Spicy, Giant Crunchy Corn by Alison Roman

I truly can’t believe I’m writing this. The final recipe. 

There were days when I wished time would speed up so I could arrive here. There have been far more days when I wished time would slow down to delay things a little longer. I wish I could go back and taste certain dishes for the first time, feel the rush of those small victories all over again. I wish I could relive all of the conversations and community shared around those meals. 

For a whole year, my social life has primarily revolved around a cooking project. For a whole year, I’ve filled moments of solitude, of dreaming about the future, of rest, of worry, of exhaustion - with cooking and writing. It would be impossible to count the hours spent on this project, but there’s really no need to do that. I would do it all over again. 

It feels sort of odd to end such a journey with a recipe as simple as spiced corn nuts. Somehow this one slipped through the cracks till the very end. Yet, after what’s felt like a marathon of the past month, perhaps it’s fitting to end with a snack that only requires baking corn nuts in oil, then tossing them in nutritional yeast and aleppo pepper. What results are highly addictive and oddly irresistible toasty corn kernels - perfect for a party or sharing with coworkers the next day. A dish meant to be shared. (I couldn’t for the life of me find quicos, so I used the Love Corn brand of corn nuts, which are less salty).

This project started out of a desire to reincorporate my artist-self back into my daily life. After years of studying theater and making art all the time, the years since have felt drier, lacking. This project changed that by providing an outlet for self-expression and personal growth all in one. I don’t want to go back to my old way of being. I’m ready to keep going. 

This is not the end. I believe it’s only the beginning.

225 recipes cooked, 0 to go. Goal: Complete.

Sweet and Salty Cream Cheese Tart by Alison Roman

Wow, the final dessert. It’s hard to wrap my head around it all. My first dessert of the project was Alison’s Cocoa Banana Bread. I chose it because it sounded familiar and safe. Obviously, Alison wouldn’t include an ordinary banana bread in her cookbook; it had plenty of flare like crystallized Demerara sugar and mascarpone. It was delicious and I felt really proud of crossing it off the list. 

33 desserts later and I’ve felt great moments of pride — like when my upside-down apricot tart held perfectly together when I flipped it onto a plate, or when my salted-butter chocolate chip cookies looked just like the picture in the book. I’ve failed too — my coconut banana pudding took multiple tries to become pudding and I was certainly too hasty about the task of cutting out circles of dough for the top of my cherry and sesame galette. I am still nowhere near any sort of expert-level baker, but I’m more confident than before. 

The cream cheese tart is as close as I’ve ever been to baking a cheesecake (which I know little to nothing about). It starts with assembling and baking the crust. Given the option of Nilla Wafers and Ritz Crackers, I went with the Ritz. My reason being that I assumed that the filling would lean more heavily on the “sweet” than the “salty,” and I was really craving a 50/50 split. 

I chose to break up the crackers by hand instead of with a food processor, but it didn’t turn out as well as I’d hoped. I got the crumbs down to a small size just fine, but some of them were just a bit too big — like the size of a pea — and it was difficult to break them down further. These slightly larger crumbs didn’t absorb the melted butter as easily, which meant the crust resisted staying together in some places. If you can tolerate the task of washing your food processor bowl and blade, then take it from me — use it with gusto. (But not too much gusto; you don’t want the crackers to become a powder either.) 

As the crust baked in the oven, I prepared the filling with my food processor by blending cream cheese, Greek yogurt, and sugar. Going against instructions, I chose almond milk cream cheese instead of full-fat, and frankly didn’t notice a possible difference in richness or quality. Then I added the eggs and grapefruit juice, forgoing the pinch of salt because I was starting to catch onto the fact that the filling might already taste saltier than I anticipated. 

I poured the filling into the crust and very slowly transferred it to the oven. After my first key lime pie experience, I knew to let the “jiggle test” not completely determine when the tart is ready to leave the oven. There’s liquid in the middle. Of course it’s going to have the slightest jiggle when you rattle it. But if it just barely moves when you give the tart tin a solid tap, then it’s ready to go. I followed Alison’s advice, turned off the oven and opened the door a bit in order to cool the tart more slowly. The point is to avoid any cracks forming on the filling’s surface. I’d never heard of this technique before. I bet it works if you are in a more temperature controlled environment than a Chicago apartment kitchen in the dead of winter. Cracks showed up sure enough — especially after the first 5 minutes passed. I’m not sure how else to avoid this. 

Once my tart was fully cooled and ready to eat, I sprinkled it with a bit of flaky salt and a slice of grapefruit (really just for the pictures, to be honest). The tart sure is tasty, but more of a 60/40 salt to sugar ratio. If I make this again, I’ll definitely go for Nilla wafers, or even a mix of Ritz and Nilla in the crust. The texture of the filling was so smooth and the structure held pretty well. Overall, I was pleased with the outcome. 

Soon I’ll post a ranking of my favorite Alison desserts — the ones I’ve dreamt about since eating then.

224 recipes cooked, 1 to go.

Celery & Fennel Salad, Cantaloupe & Arugula Salad, and a Baked Potato Bar by Alison Roman

“IT’S THE FI-NAL SAL-LAAAAADS!” (And some baked potatoes!) 

The ones I waited longest to enjoy. Eating these two salads revealed two new discoveries: 1) Hard blue cheese actually isn’t so bad. 2) Black olives are the most inferior kind of olive. Those two ingredients are the sole reasons I waited so long to make these salads. They also confirmed one fact that I already knew by heart: 1) olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper are all you need to dress a fantastic salad. 

I just spent the last few days celebrating a dear college friend who’s getting married soon. A small group of us drove or flew to Sawyer, Michigan where several inches of snow and a cozy cabin by Lake Michigan awaited. Weekends like these remind me just how blessed by community I am. I’ve been gifted friendships with some of the most authentic, kind, goofy, thoughtful women. Perhaps what’s most impressive about them is that they are the same kind of people in friendship as they are in the world every day, towards friends and strangers alike. We don’t see one another more than maybe once a year, which makes our time together all the richer. 

Those who flew, came in through Chicago airports, so they needed a ride to the cabin and back. We had some time to spend before their flights home, so I decided to involve them in making three of my final six recipes for a fancier-than-usual lunch. 

We gathered around my kitchen island and assumed our positions…

Megan: She owns Dining In, and thus has cooked a good number of Alison’s recipes herself. So she took charge of making Alison’s Skillet Chicken with Crushed Olives and Sumac. We’ve both made this several times in the last year because it’s that good. (It’s also the recipe used for the cover of the book). 

Molly: Standing at the corner of the counter, she expertly sliced and seeded a cantaloupe into half-inch thick rounds, then removed the outer skin. Alison says nothing about removing the rind, but we figured it’d be easier to eat that way (duh). Molly also took charge of thinly slicing the celery stalks — like a boss. 

Anne: Standing in the middle, Anne eagerly volunteered to stab the russet potatoes all over with a fork to prep them for the oven. Post-oil, she sprinkled them with salt and pepper. She helped Molly remove the cantaloupe rinds. She coarsely chopped the walnuts and pistachios. She tossed the cantaloupe and arugula together and squeezed a whole lemon all over it. She topped the bowl with the chopped black olives and a handful of chopped chives. 

Caroline: God bless her. At the far end of the counter, she oiled the potatoes by hand. After, she expertly sliced a fennel bulb into thin strips and a shallot into thin rings. She tossed the celery, fennel, lemon juice, shallot, toasted nuts, salt, pepper, and olive oil together. She crumbled the hard blue cheese on top and sprinkled the bowl with celery leaves. Anne and Molly helped with the celery leaves too. She finely chopped the black olives (I used a tiny can of pitted ones from Whole Foods.) 

Yours truly: I played quarterback -- giving each teammate instructions at regular intervals. My few tasks included toasting the nuts in a skillet (I didn’t have enough walnuts to fill half a cup so I added pistachio meats into the mix— a great call), testing each dish and adding salt and pepper to taste, and setting out the baked potato toppings - sour cream, Greek yogurt, butter, flaky salt, pepper, and chopped chives. 

This meal obviously consisted of dishes chosen by necessity. I didn’t consider a cantaloupe and black olive salad to be the first choice pairing for a baked potato bar. But much to my surprise, all four dishes felt surprisingly cohesive as a meal, with the celery and fennel salad as the strongest outlier.

Someone recently asked me what my favorite part has been about this project. My answer? The people I enjoyed the meals with. Every dish created an opportunity to invite people into my home, or bring the food to them, and commune together. Share an experience, talk about what we’re eating, the flavors we’re tasting. A chance to encourage and nourish the people I love. Yes, that is what brings me the most joy. 

221, 222, and 223 recipes cooked, 2 to go.

Quick Weeknight Fish Stew with Olives by Alison Roman

“Are there any recipes you’re really not looking forward to making?” - at least 100 people 

“Yeah, there’s this fish stew recipe with olives.” - me 

(360 days later)

“Really, you’re gonna let a stew stand between you and accomplishing your goal? Suck it up.” - this project 
“........................................... Fine.” - me 

---

the makings of a good broth

If I sound like a broken record, I’m sorry. But I have to tell the truth! Once again, this stew was surprisingly better than I thought it would be. Will I make it again? Probably not. But at least I didn’t suffer while eating it. (If you’re new to the blog, please know that if you love seafood stew, you’ll probably love this — seafood stew just ain’t my thing.) 

What I liked most was the tomato-based broth. I chose to use a ripe, medium-sized tomato instead of a can of diced tomatoes (Alison gives us the option). Fresh tomato was definitely the way to go. It gave a subtler tomato taste and color to the stew than canned would have, which I found to be just enough to brighten things up. The broth also contains toasted shallot rings and garlic slices, reduced white wine, chili flakes, bay leaves, and water. Just reading that ingredient list tells you it’s got to be a solid broth base. 

The seafood part, now that’s where I falter. The recipe calls for cod (which we’ve established tastes too fishy), mussels (my first time buying my own mussels!), and shrimp (yes, more shrimp). Mussels are cooked first using the same method as you’d use with clams — nestling them in hot liquid and covering your pot with a lid to create steam. Within five or so minutes, those babies were opened. Cod and shrimp also need time to cook in the broth with the lid on, which took only another six minutes. 

The olives and herbs really brought everything together. I opted for crushed Castelvetrano olives over black olives for their obviously superior flavor. Finely chopped parsley and dill added an element of freshness and vibrant color that really helped with appetite appeal. I made a half-recipe and ate about a fourth of it. Jordan had a few bites too, but we got no where near to finishing it. 

As far as the recipe title goes, this recipe is relatively “quick” when it comes to stews, but it still takes a good bit of ingredient preparation and comes together in about 45 minutes. I guess it all depends on your definition of “quick.” 

Thank God that’s over with. 

220 recipes cooked, 5 to go.

Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb with Spicy Fennel and Sumac By Alison Roman

This past Monday I cooked a whole leg of lamb for 8 people. I’d been nervously anticipating this meal for months. From my first spin through Nothing Fancy, the sight of this recipe — Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb, totally intimidated me. I knew I’d have to save it for last, figuring I’d need at least a year’s worth of cooking practice before I could safely attempt to deal with the entire leg of a large animal...

I was right and I was wrong.

I was wrong because even with a year of intentional cooking under my belt, I still messed up. Alison gives two sets of instructions in the recipe for roasting and braising. I went the braising route because she says it’s less scary and more foolproof. I covered the lamb and its baking dish with aluminum foil and stuck it in the oven at 300 degrees for the minimum time listed: 3 hours. But I don’t think the foil stayed tightly wrapped the whole time, and thus, too much steam escaped, allowing the meat to dry out some.

I should have checked it part way through, as an insurance policy. But part of me felt like checking on meat before it’s supposed to be done was “the old Annie.” The old Annie who doubted herself and the process. In her many meat recipes, Alison routinely says things like “resist the temptation to peak” or “don’t even bother peaking until the timer goes off - it won’t be ready before then, I promise”. I tried to actually followed her advice for once. (I’m not blaming her for the fail, but you get the point.) To be clear, the lamb wasn’t ruined — the flavor rocked, and the meat was still tender. But did it fall apart at the touch the way Alison describes? Definitely not.

I was also right that this recipe should be saved for the end because after a year’s worth of intentional cooking, I’ve seen great improvement in my ability to get something wrong and not feel ashamed about it.

A year ago, I would have been mortified the moment I cut into the lamb and realized what had happened. I can just picture the way my cheeks would have reddened and my heart started to pound. And to be sure, that was a temptation for me last Monday. But only for a moment. Instead, I paused and thought, “That’s what this whole process is about, right? Learning — getting it wrong so you can eventually get it right. Your friends are here to join you in that project, not to consume something perfect.”

As my friends sat around the table, I stood to give an introduction to the meal. At the end, I explained that the lamb didn’t turn out the way I had hoped. It wasn’t tough, but it was dry. But then I said, mostly for myself, that I was grateful that they agreed to participate in my project — a project that emphasized learning over perfection. And I sat down, unashamed.

If you know me personally, you know that this kind of moment is a huge marker of growth. 

The lamb is served atop a bed of thinly sliced fennel and herbs marinated in red pepper flakes and lemon juice - and truly, it was exactly what the lamb needed to balance its saltiness. Alison doesn’t mention this, but after 3 hours of braising, the sliced fennel bulb that cooks underneath the lamb in the braising liquid is soft and infused with all of the lamb’s spices - fennel seed and cumin seed. I scooped them out of the baking dish and tossed them with the fresh fennel slices before laying the slices of lamb on top. It added even more flavor and substance to the dish. I served the lamb, sprinkled with sumac, alongside a bowl of sour cream. 

And thus marked my second to last All-Out-Alison meal of the project: 

• Yogurt-Marinated Leg of Lamb

• Sour Cream Flatbreads (for dipping into the fennel juices and leftover limey sour cream from the beets)

• Vinegar-Roasted Beets with Spring Onions

• Chicories with Yogurt, Preserved Lemon, and Mint

219 recipes cooked, 6 to go.