Roasted Vegetable Salad with Fish Sauce Vinaigrette

When I lived in Chicago, I had access to a great rooftop deck where we grilled on a regular basis; well, at least the few months out of the year that were actually warm enough to grill. Now that I've relocated to DC, the weather is consistently better, but unfortunately I no longer have access to that great rooftop deck, or room in my less than spacious (800-square foot) apartment to store a grill, or, more importantly, access to a grill (the one from Chicago didn't make the move).  After a year of moaning about a lack of outdoor space, I decided to try out a cast iron grill pan for my stove top.  Although a bit skeptical at first, I plunked down my money nonetheless.  And, I must say, this pan works really well, better than expected; not quite a substitute for the a grill, but not a bad alternative for city dwellers living in tight spaces.

Excited about my new find, I started with an assortment of grilled vegetables -- corn, zucchini, squash, green beans, okra, eggplant, peppers.  Hmm, what other veggies can I grill?  Even leafy greens, like kale, grill up nicely.  As you can see from the photos, you can achieve a nice char and grill marks right in your own kitchen.  As an added bonus, it only takes about 5 minutes for the pan to get sizzling hot.

Now that I have a nice assortment of veggies grilled up, assembling this salad is a snap. Prepared wild rice for the base of my salad, toasted up a medley of mixed nuts in a dry skillet for a nice added crunch, and whipped together a quick fish sauce vinaigrette.

Fish sauce (or nam pla) is an essential ingredient in Southeast Asian cooking.  If you're not familiar with it, don't be put off by its pungent odor (it's made from fermented anchovies after all).  However, once you whisk all the vinaigrette ingredients together, the flavor of the fish sauce is much less pronounced.  The flavor from the fish sauce is evident in the vinaigrette, though balanced out by with the other ingredients. The vinaigrette is at once sweet, sour, and spicy (depending on the amount of Thai chiles you add) -- and highly addictive.

Love this time of year -- an assortment of (mild-to-medium heat) peppers and sweet corn, waiting to be grilled...

Thai basil, a member of the anise family, brings strong licorice flavors (if you can't find Thai basil, substitute with the more commonly available green sweet basil)...

Long, slender Japanese eggplant, summer squash, zucchini, okra....

A few toasted pecans, walnuts, and slivered almonds provide a nice crunch. And, sauteed a few garlic scapes and added them to the wild rice...

Turkish Tomato and Pepper Salad

Tomatoes, tomatoes, tomatoes...it's that time of year.  Beautiful, juicy, locally-grown, ripened on the vine, and bursting with flavor tomatoes.  Patiently await their arrival for the greater part of the year; and when they arrive in all their glorious colors, I can't get enough of them.  Whether roughly chopped as part of a Greek salad (better known as horiatiki salata or village salad in Greece), used as the foundation for a simple salsa fresca, or pureed for a cooling summer gazpacho -- all regulars in my repertoire -- a good tomato can be savored in a seemingly limitless number of preparations.  If you're looking for something just a tiny bit different, this salad, inspired by a recent day-trip to Turkey, is a nice alternative -- strikes me as a cross between fresh salsa and gazpacho.  

Acili Ezme is a Turkish vegetable salad -- a mixture of finely diced tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, scallions, fresh herbs, and spices, and is typically served with crisp pita chips. Ezme translates to squash/mash/crush in Turkish; a few pulses in the food processor results in a smooth yet still chunky consistency.

Brush some pita or lavash lightly with olive oil, sprinkle with desired spices (such as smoked paprika) and coarse sea salt, and toast in the oven until crispy -- an ideal vehicle for scooping up the salad. Simple and refreshing, and a perfect snack or meze on a warm summer's day.

A nice assortment of spices at the market in the Turkish coastal city of Izmir...

Whole Roast Chicken

I have a new love in my life -- whole roast chicken. Roasting a chicken is as basic as it gets, and it doesn't get much better than this. It looks elegant enough to serve at a dinner party and easy enough to prepare any day of the week.

Simple, simple, simple but oh so tasty, tasty, tasty. All I did was pre-salt/preseason the chicken 24 to 36 hours in advance (more on this in a bit),  placed the chicken on a bed of thinly sliced lemons, along with potatoes [tossed in extra virgin olive oil, sea salt, black pepper, and plenty of fresh rosemary], and a substantial number of whole garlic cloves. Then, popped it in the oven to roast (45 minutes for this 3-pounder). That's it.

The result...one super moist and juicy bird -- no dry, chalky meat here. The lemon slices get nice and crispy and caramelized when roasted in the oven. And, when their juices mingle with the rosemary and juices of the chicken and smoked paprika...you get an irresistible pan sauce (no extra work required). And the smell...intoxicating.

That being said, starting with a good quality chicken makes all the difference. Look for one at your local farmers' market, preferably from a farmer you know and trust. Got mine here, but there are a plethora of farmers doing great stuff across the country. Make friends with at least one.

Why and how to pre-salt [from Molly Stevens, author of All About Roasting]?
Pre-salting, or dry salting, [as compared to wet salting -- aka brining] enhances the texture of poultry. But why is this, you ponder? Well, it has to due with chemical processes and osmosis, but I won't bore you with the minute details. Instead, this is probably what you want to know -- although, initially a dry-salted piece of meat loses a little moisture, it loses much less moisture during the cooking process. In fact, the slight loss of initial moisture actually deepens the flavor of the chicken. Also, presalting results in crispier skin (and who doesn't like crispy skin?). So, to sum things up, presalting results in a more flavorful, juicier chicken, with crispier skin.

Next, the how? 24 to 36 hours in advance, salt the chicken all over (including the cavity) with 1/2 to a scant 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt per pound of chicken (the amount of salt, depending on taste, how far ahead you presalt, and the size of the bird). You'll also want to preseason the chicken (with herbs and spices) at this point as well. Then in the refrigerator until you're ready to roast.

How much to presalt (measurements based on using kosher salt) as little or a much as 8 to 48 hours in advance (but preferably 24 to 36 hours):

3-pound chicken: 1 1/2 to 2 teaspoons

3 1/2-pound chicken: 1 3/4  to 2 1/2 teaspoons

4-pound chicken: 2 teaspoons to 2 3/4 teaspoons

4 1/2-pound chicken: 2 1/4 to 3 1/2 teaspoons

*amount of salt will vary on the length of time, size of the bird, and personal preference

I also roasted some okra in the oven. Simply tossed in olive oil, garlic powder, salt and pepper, and then roasted for 20 minutes at 400 degrees (as recommended by one of the farmers at my local farmers' market). Go for the smaller okra if you can find some; I find them to be much more tender.

Spiced Yellow Split Peas

Dried yellow split peas on their own won't knock your socks off with flavor. They need a good amount of spice, fresh herbs, and chiles to bring them to life. There's a simple and traditional Greek version I've had many times called fava -- ironically, made with yellow split peas (not fava beans), along with raw onion, parsley, olive oil and lemon juice.

This is a spiced-up version and one of my weekday staples -- easy, homey, and consistently satisfying. When I'm feeling lazy or fresh out of ideas, I rely on this tried and true preparation. Just need a few ingredients, most of which I usually have on hand. A little chopping and then the split peas just need to cook down for about an hour until they become thick and creamy. You can prepare this dish ahead of time and reheat when ready to serve. In fact, it tastes even better after sitting a day or two (in the refrigerator), as the flavors meld and develop.

For this preparation I included turmeric, mostly for color ( it doesn't have much flavor); sumac, which adds a nice lemony flavor; cumin; fresh thyme; cilantro; chives; and habanero chili pepper, which adds a nice fruitiness and a bit of heat (but is not overpowering; just added half of one habanero). You can jazz this dish up with fresh cheese, such as feta, yogurt, or maybe even a few grilled squid tentacles (if you're feeling adventurous). Pair with a salad or sauteed greens and you have yourself an easy, healthy, and inexpensive meal.

Pan Bagnat

I was listening to an interview the other day with Melissa Clark [food writer for the New York Times] and she was asked what she likes to bring on a picnic. Clark proceeded to recount childhood vacations with her family in the south of France. Clark's  mother would prepare pan bagnat [a sandwich comprised of thick country bread, anchovies, tuna, hard-boiled eggs, capers, olives, cucumbers, tomatoes, onions, olive oil, etc.], all stacked on top of one other. In order to flatten the sandwiches so they were more manageable to eat, Clark's mother would have her [7-years-old at the time] and her sister sit on them before heading to the beach. As a result, the capers would burst, the anchovies would get crushed, and the olive oil and tuna would soak into the bread.

Hearing Clark tell this story made me reminisce about my childhood. Instead of the crystal clear, turquoise waters of the Mediterranean, picture the murky waters of the Jersey Shore, and swap the pan bagnat for peanut butter and jelly on white bread (otherwise, almost identical). When I was younger, I most definitely would have run the other way if offered a sandwich of anchovies and capers; although I can't imagine my mom ever preparing such a thing. Luckily, my taste buds have changed since those days and traveling has introduced me to previously unknown foods. In recent years, have grown to truly love briny, salty notes. In fact, when I travel, I usually come home with a suitcase full of various jars of capers and anchovies, bottarga, and tinned fishes (hopefully, not in violation of any Dept. of Agriculture regulations).

After hearing about this sandwich, I had to have one. It's like a souped-up version of a tuna fish sandwich.  And since it's not made with mayo or aioli, it's perfect for a picnic, along with being really, really tasty!

Have grown to really appreciate anchovies. Like to sneak them into red pasta sauce or a vinaigrette. When mixed in with other ingredients, they're much more subtle, but you still get just enough of that saltiness/brininess.

Soft Shell Crab with Summer Vegetable Salad

I'm in Maryland (okay, technically Washington, D.C. at the moment), the home of the Chesapeake Bay blue crab. It's summer, and in Maryland that means it's crab season, wahoo!!  Love blue crabs -- soft shell, hard shell, crab cakes, crab soup...love it all.

While I grew up in Maryland, have spent the past ten years in Chicago (land of pork belly; which is equally good but in a much different way). Even after all these years, my affinity for blue crabs remains stronger than ever. They're just as good as what I remember. Eating [hard shell] crabs is an afternoon affair in this part of the country. You start with a bushel of crabs, lots of Old Bay, crack them open one at a time -- sustaining a few puncture wounds while scavenging for every last morsel of crab meat -- and washing it all down with a glass or two of Dogfish Head beer. Oh, how I've missed you.

In a world where you can get anything you want, anytime you want it, the blue crab doesn't abide by this rule. You must patiently await its arrival -- beginning in May and throughout the summer, the blue crab abandons its shell and starts to form a new one. The shell remains soft for only a few hours after the crab has molted (hence the name soft shell crab). If you can get your hands on some, they are sweet, briny, and delicious.

Went really simple with the preparation. Just dredged the crab in flour and sprinkled with a little sea salt and black pepper. Then, pan-fried in extra-virgin olive oil until golden brown and crispy. I don't like a lot of breading, just want to taste nothin' but crab.

Prepared a summer salad to accompany the soft shell crabs. An assortment of vegetables, including sweet summer corn, squash, favas, peppery arugula, onion, basil, and sun gold tomatoes from my local farmers' market. Used a a simple dressing -- French tarragon, shallot, lime juice, olive oil, salt and pepper -- to tie it all together. I particularly like the boldness of the tarragon, which imparts an anise-like flavor and pairs nicely with the crab.
 

Toasted a few slices of baguette in olive oil and then rubbed them with a clove of garlic and sprinkled with some course sea salt.

Melitzanosalata: Smoky Eggplant Dip

I'm back. Spent the past month traveling. Started in Florence, Italy (work-related, but still managed to get in some good eating and site seeing), followed by a few very relaxing weeks in Greece. Spent tens days on the island of Crete and another ten days on the sleepy island of Chios (best known, perhaps, for its production of mastic -- a tree resin used to make gum, medicine, digestifs, lotions, soaps, etc.). Part of the Northern Eastern Aegean Islands, Chios is a stone's throw from Turkey. Accordingly, we embarked upon a one-day trip to the coastal city of Izmir. This brief excursion exponentially piqued my interest in Turkey; am eager to return and explore more of the country (of note, the USD is strong against the Turkish Lira such that traveling in Turkey is less expensive compared to Europe).

Of course, one cannot travel without experiencing the indigenous cuisine. Greek and Turkish cuisine share many similarities. Both are tied tightly to the seasons, the mountains, and the sea. Dishes are simply prepared with the freshest of ingredients (as long as you stay far away from the tourist traps). It's not uncommon for the chef to have caught the fish or seafood (octopus, calamari, or sepia), raised the livestock (goat, lamb, or rabbit), pressed the olive oil, or crushed the grapes for the wine (or raki or souma) him or herself. A typical, leisurely meal on most days consisted of grilled sardines, octopus, or calamari, horta (boiled greens), salad (or the vegetable of the day), and wine (which went down way too easy), followed by a day of swimming and reading on the beach. Life doesn't get much better than that.

 
Besides platefuls of grilled octopus, which I could never seem to get enough of, Melitzanosalata, or eggplant dip, was a dish I sampled several times throughout my travels. The preparation that I especially enjoyed had a nice amount of smokiness, along with the addition of chopped walnuts. So, as a welcome home dish in honor of my Greek travels, I've prepared a smoky version of this dish. In order to get that nice smokiness, you either need to grill the eggplant on a charcoal grill or opt for plan B. Since, I don't have a grill, I devised a method to achieve that smoky flavor indoors. I used my small stovetop smoker and smoked the eggplant in batches (with a combination of hickory and cherry wood) before roasting them in the oven. This worked perfectly and produced just the right amount of smokiness. If you don't have a smoker, you can rig one with a wok as described here. Then, you just pound all the ingredients by hand in a mortar and pestle, and serve with slices of a crispy baguette (lightly fried in olive oil).

Kali Orexi ("good appetite" in Greek)!

Melitzanosalata

2 pounds eggplant (used the slender dark purple Japanese varietal, but you can use any variety you like)

2 large garlic cloves

1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil plus more for drizzling over top

1 1/2 tablespoons white wine vinegar

Sea salt to taste

1/4 cup plus two tablespoons chopped walnuts

Large pinch of smoked hot paprika

Parsley for garnish

Whole wheat country baguette

Olive oil for frying bread

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Pierce the eggplant all over with a fork. Lightly oil the eggplant. Using a stovetop smoker, smoke the eggplant in batches over medium heat for 15 minutes. Place the eggplant on a baking sheet and roast in the oven for about 45 minutes or until very tender. Remove from the oven. While the eggplant is still hot, cut off the stem and peel the skin. Coarsely chop the eggplant pulp.

Using a mortar and pestle, pound the garlic with a little salt. Add the eggplant pulp and continue to pound. Slowly add the olive oil and vinegar and continue mashing. Add salt to taste, smoked paprika, and walnuts, and continue to mash. Place in a serving bowl. Drizzle with some good quality extra-virgin olive oil and garnish with chopped parsley. 

Slice the baguette on a bias, about 1-inch thick. Heat a tablespoon or two of olive oil in a small skillet. When hot, add the baguette slices, a few at a time, and fry until golden brown, flip and repeat on the second side, until golden brown. Place on a paper towel to drain. Repeat with the remaining slices.

Note: Alternatively, you can grill the eggplant over charcoal, rotating every 5 minutes or so, until the skin is charred and the eggplant are very tender, about 30 minutes.

A few photos from the trip (Crete, Chios, Athens, and Izmir)...