Olive-Oil Roasted Vegetables by Alison Roman

​​Life is often a lot like making roasted tomatoes. You cannot decide you want it an hour beforehand. You must plan ahead. In the morning, you turn on the oven and set it to preheat. On a snowy day, this is a welcome action. The summer is a different matter. It’s true that your feelings change depending on the season you’re in. Don’t let that inconsistency throw you, let seasons be seasons.

To prepare the tomatoes, you first must cut them in half. Expose their insides, full of juices and seeds, membranes and pith. You place them in a deep, wide pan, putting all of your fruits in one proverbial basket. Their cut-sides look up, revealing their nearly identical designs. Fresh tomato faces, all in a row, giving you their full attention. You take it in. You choose to notice their beauty. To really look is always a choice. You’re tempted to bask in their fixation, but you know you must move on.

You reach for the large bottle of olive oil and pour it generously over the tomato faces. It is generous because olive oil is costly, and you can’t avoid the fact of expense, even when it comes to tomato sauce. A sprinkle of salt, a toss of thyme sprigs and garlic, and they’re ready for the oven.

Like many worthy endeavors, waiting is most of the effort. Active preparation took only a modicum of time. Now the world watches for your self control. The world of your apartment kitchen, that is. The scents of garlic and thyme perfume your apartment, making it hard not to salivate every time you pass the oven on your way to the sink. You drink way more water than normal. And just when you think you can’t wait any longer, the timer buzzes.

The shriveled, tender tomatoes keep sizzling in the golden glow of olive oil as you take out the pan. With great care, you spoon a tomato onto a piece of sourdough toast. The final touch, flaky sea salt. Some people might think you’re crazy for waiting three hours for this meal. But you know the truth. Waiting makes it all the more delicious.

124 recipes cooked, 101 to go.

Citrus Chicken Rested in Herbs by Alison Roman

Talk about a summer meal! This bright juicy chicken begs for a summer bbq. It’s also a great oven-friendly chicken for days when you want to pretend you’re in summer. The bottom line is summer. 

The first step in this recipe tripped me up. Cutting a chicken completely in half, between the breasts and through the backbone. Can my knife really… do that? The answer is, yes, your knife (if you have a good chef’s knife) really can cut through a backbone if you apply enough pressure. Alison claims a cleaver is the best tool for the job, but honestly, who casually owns a cleaver? And why not spatchcock it? Alison says it “eliminates the air space in the cavity of the bird, which means it will cook much faster.” I don’t know. My gut tells me spatchcocking would have worked just as well, since I made mine in the oven. I can see why cutting it in two pieces would be useful for grilling (ease of flipping), but if I make this again, I may try spatchcocking. 

Both chicken halves are marinated in fresh lime juice (or lemon juice), fresh orange juice, soy sauce, garlic and yuzu kosho. What is yuzu kosho, you ask? It’s a Japanese condiment made from fresh green chiles. It’s the consistency of curry paste and comes in a similarly shaped jar. I searched multiple grocery stores for this little condiment, to no avail. Alison utilizes this ingredient in multiple recipes, so I took the plunge and ordered some on Amazon. Here’s a fun article about it from Bon Appetit if you want to learn more. 

The chicken needs at least 30 minutes in the marinade (or up to 24 hours) to soak in the flavor. Then it’s oven-roasted for 35-45 minutes until the skin is impossibly golden and crispy looking. Plate the halves on top of thinly sliced citrus and a boat load of herbs, and drizzle reserved marinade on top. 

Crispy skin and powerful flavor are what make this chicken special. I can see why yuzu kosho is a popular “secret weapon” -- it adds heat, but heat that’s also tangy instead of a pure heat like gochujang. In other words, yuzu kosho is the Cholula to Sriracha. While Alison says you can substitute the yuzu kosho here for sambal or a jalapeno, I’d encourage you to go the extra mile (or internet search) to find this special chile paste instead. 

62 recipes cooked, 163 to go.

Sticky Roasted Carrots with Citrus and Tahini by Alison Roman

I had a realization the other day about Alison’s use of the word “sticky.” At least when it comes to use in a recipe title, both these sticky carrots and her sticky walnuts use maple syrup, a naturally sticky substance, as a sweetening agent in the roasting process. But oddly enough, both the carrots and walnuts didn’t turn out to be very sticky. That’s about as far as that realization went. Anyways…

Regardless of the lack of stickiness, this carrot dish is rather inventive in its flavor pairing, and in true Alison fashion, is unapologetically bold. I’ve said before that Alison commits wholeheartedly to flavor, and this recipe is no exception. There’s nothing subtle about it. 

The elements at play here are the subtle sweetness of the carrots. I prefer smaller carrots like the multicolored Le Petite bag from Trader Joes. They’re pre-peeled and trimmed so the preparation is simpler. The quartered carrots are tossed with maple syrup, thinly sliced citrus (I used a navel orange), red pepper flakes, and salt and pepper. The other element present is half a red onion, sliced into .5 inch chunks and lightly pickled in lemon juice a few minutes before roasting. The combination of these spicy, acidic and sweet flavors and textures make this not your average veggie side. 

As if this needed another dimension, a simple tahini sauce coats the serving platter before placing the carrots and onions on top. I’m not always in the mood for a strong sesame seed presence. However, I found myself reaching to dip some of my carrots into the sauce throughout the meal. The tahini’s nutty flavor and smooth texture added another welcome complexity. 

All in all, I found Alison’s signature boldness a perfect strategy for cooking this mild vegetable. There will be more of these carrots in my future.

53 recipes cooked, 172 to go.

Roasted Broccolini and Lemon with Crispy Parmesan by Alison Roman

There are recipes I feel jazzed to write about. There are recipes about which I have not much to say. This is one of the latter. 

I didn’t begin to love vegetables as an adult until I learned how to oven roast them. I learned the vegetable to oil and salt ratio, a general oven temperature range, a sense for how to time it, and I haven’t looked back. Here is a great example of one vegetable to roast and how to pair it with other flavors. Broccolini roasted with lemon and some parmesan that gets all crispy. Everything you need to know is in the title.

My pal Margaret, who I reference often, encouraged me to keep it real here. I think I’ve done that thus far, but it’s a post like this that tempts me to embellish more than is necessary. So for brevity and clarity sake, I’ll bring this to a close. If you like roasted broccolini, and you think pairing it with lemon or parmesan sounds nice, then you my friend, should make some. 

44 recipes cooked, 181 to go.

Raw and Roasted Carrots and Fennel with Feta and Pistachios by Alison Roman

I’m not the kind of person who can casually snack on carrots without a dip. Something about a mouthful of raw carrot makes me contemplate gagging. I have to actively fight that reflux, and search for a glass of water

I don’t remember when I first had a roasted carrot, but I know it was a game changing experience. I’ve been known to roast a whole bag of carrots for lunch and eat any leftovers for dinner. Something about the softened, charred texture of a roasted carrot, with oily spices soaked into the carrot’s flesh. Sometimes I sprinkle crumbled feta cheese over them, or some lime juice. 

The genius of this admittedly simple recipe is carrots in TWO ways. Roasted, warm, tender carrots with ribbons of their raw selves - fresh and crunchy. Feta, cilantro, and lemon juice tie this all together. Oh, and scallions two ways, too. Some raw and sliced, and a few roasted with the carrots. It’s really that uncomplicated. 

The recipe calls for a fennel bulb to be roasted along with the carrots. I planned to do this, but when I reached for my fennel, I found that it had gone rancid. So I skipped the fennel, and actually didn’t miss it. Pistachios are also called for here, but I didn’t feel like shelling out for more nuts when I already have lots of perfectly good pepitas on hand. I toasted about a quarter cup of pepitas in a skillet to top this dish. It added just enough nutty crunch to contrast the brighter crunch of the raw carrots.  

This dish will go well with most anything, and it’s season agnostic. So go on, get yourself a bag of carrots and eat them two ways!

35 recipes cooked, 190 to go.