Whole Roasted Snapper with Harissa and Sun Gold Tomatoes by Alison Roman

Rule #1: Don’t forget to ask the seafood counter person to gut and scale your fish for you. 

Rule #2: If you forget to ask, don’t be afraid to take the fish back to the store and ask the seafood counter person to gut and scale your fish for you. 

Rule #3: Gutting a fish is really gross. 

You’ve probably surmised my fish journey by this point. Yes, I assumed the seafood counter person had gutted and scaled my fish. They only scaled it. Turns out seafood counter people agree that gutting a fish is gross and they won’t do it without being asked. Can I blame them? No. But learn from my mistakes. And yes, you can bring your fish back to the store and they’ll gut it if you ask. 

Before Jordan, my dear husband, started his new job last week, he had time on his hands. As I was commuting home from my own new job, I thought to put his free time to good use. Why not have him drive a fish to Whole Foods to be gutted, and have him make Alison’s whole roasted snapper recipe for me? So that’s exactly what he did. 

He tells me the whole preparation and cooking process was easy. “Are all of Alison’s recipes this simple?” All he had to do was combine garlic and harissa with some olive oil, and use that mixture to coat the fish and cherry tomatoes. He stuck them all in the oven, and voila! Meal ready. We served the fish with salad and brown rice. 

We both decided that snapper isn’t our favorite fish. The flavor is too… fishy. The texture, a little too game-y. We far prefer branzino or salmon. Jordan found this especially disappointing because he wants to be able to say “I love eating snapper.” “That’s a cool thing to say, isn’t it?” We’ll have to score our cool points elsewhere. 

139 recipes cooked, 86 to go.

check out those jammy tomatoes

Slow-Roasted Oregano Chicken with Buttered Tomatoes by Alison Roman

There are a lot of reasons why this dish is featured on the cover of Alison’s second book, nothing fancy. It’s crazy delicious. It’s easy to make: virtually no cooking skill required beyond assembly and sticking it in the oven. Finally, it seems like a blatant oxymoron. How can a dish that fancy, for lack of a better term, be not fancy? Makes you want to open the book to find out, doesn’t it? (I see what you did there, Alison & her book publishers.) 

Important note, by cooking this recipe right off the bat, I was clued into what I think Alison means by the book title, nothing fancy. The food in it sure looks fancy, and definitely tastes fancy. But that doesn’t mean that only advanced cooks can make this food. The skill levels required, and the amount of steps in each recipe, are far less than what you might think. Example A, see Slow-Roasted Oregano Chicken on Page 189-190. 

The recipe calls for a whole chicken, 3.5-4 lbs. I bought a whole chicken only a handful of times in the past, as I found it intimidating to both cook and carve a whole bird. (And the bones, bones always spooked me out.) I usually shop at Trader Joes, so that’s where I went to buy this chicken. 

Note on whole chickens at Trader Joes, to give you a lay of the land if you need one. In my recently frequent experience in this section of the store, I’ve learned there are three types of chickens to choose from. There’s the standard chicken: non-organic, large birds in the 5-8 lb. range and a less expensive option. There’s the heirloom chicken: smaller birds in the 2-3.5 lb. range, in a non-organic but all the disclaimers like vegetarian-fed and antibiotic-free, etc., and just as expensive per pound as organic. Then there’s a standard organic chicken but their smallest bird is no less than 5.5 lbs. 

I first made this recipe for Jordan and I, so a 3.5 lb. heirloom chicken seemed best for feeding 2 and having leftovers the next day. I was right. 

The dish was so killer that I had to make it for a larger audience. My in-laws came over a few days later and I reprised it. There were 5 of us total, so I opted for a larger, organic bird of 5.5 lbs, and there were no leftovers to be found. If you’re going to serve this to guests, don’t expect leftovers, both due to the amount of chicken and sheer irresistibility.

Step 1 of the recipe tells you to cover the chicken in salt and pepper. Alison says this can be done right before cooking, but tells you in parentheses that if you have time to do it earlier in the day, do! Consider it a “casual brine.” If there’s one thing I know about cooking meat, it’s that meat always tastes better if it’s had a salt bath first. I’m all in for that casual brine. 

When you’re about 3 hours from meal time, it’s time to assemble your dish. When it comes to the chicken itself, the ingredients are simple and few (not fancy). Fennel seeds, salt, pepper, olive oil, and of course, fresh oregano. I followed her quantities to a tee, and proportionately scaled them up with the 5.5 lb bird. 

The seasoned chicken is nestled in a nest of halved garlic heads and vine-ripened tomatoes, and more fresh oregano. Very little chopping involved, and you don’t even have to remove the paper around the garlic. Throw in some butter and pop her into the oven at a low temperature for 2.5-3 hrs. 

Note about fresh oregano. My Trader Joes doesn’t carry it, so I had to go to Whole Foods to buy it. This isn’t one of those times where you can swap in the dried version and alter the quantity accordingly. It’s gotta be the fresh version. 

At this point, the recipe only tells you when to take the dish out of the oven. My dear friend who gifted me nothing fancy, and whose favorite dish is also this dish, told me to drizzle olive oil over the bird every 30 minutes during the cooking process. Why not keep the chicken as moist and shiny as possible? A wonderful recommendation to follow, if you ask me. But hey, if you need this to be a totally hands-off roast, I get it! Skip the extra olive oil, and I’m sure the chicken will turn out great anyway. In Alison, we trust. 

We’re almost at the point where the dish is ready to be served. Once you remove her from the oven (look for that golden brown skin and jammy tomatoes), you get to spoon some red wine vinegar over the tomatoes and let it sink in for 10 minutes. Then, she’s ready to be carved and served.

Alison wisely recommends serving it with fresh bread. I happen to be on a sourdough baking kick, so I was eager to oblige with homemade bread. But I know that fresh bread from a grocery store, preferably one with a nice soft middle, and crispy crust, will do just fine. Fun tip, the garlic will have been confit-ted, aka turned into a spreadable, caramel-colored clove that I highly recommend spreading over your bread like butter. 

Like I said, this dish is a true winner. One I will return to again and again for hosting and casual weeknight dinners alike. It’s the whole package. Tangy, jammy tomatoes, perfectly moist chicken meat with a golden crispy crust with chopped fennel that gives it a slightly crunchy bite, and spreadable, golden garlic over fresh bread. Serve it with a simple green salad, and you will be thanking yourself, and dear Alison, for days to come. 

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I made this recipe another time for a family that is very near to my heart. The Hammitt/Self family lives out a grace-centered, actively service-oriented type of love for one another that is contagious. This chicken was the backdrop to a meaningful evening with them. Rachel graciously offered to take these photos for my blog — I was just about to launch it then, though I’m just posting these now. Thank you, Rachel. I love you!

56 recipes cooked, 169 to go.

Photography credit goes to my brilliant friend, Rachel Hammitt @ Hammitt Design: https://hammittdesign.com/

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.

Roasted Tomato and Anchovy Bucatini by Alison Roman

My goodness, this tomato sauce made me swoon. It’s worth every hour it takes to make. This recipe is NOT Alison’s Shallot/Anchovy pasta which went absolutely viral in 2020. That pasta is really good, but I liked this one better. Mostly because I’m in love with tomatoes.** And this sauce still has that lovely umami flavor that only anchovies can bring. (No, you absolutely may not skip the anchovies. Don’t ask that.)

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My cooking timeline. 

2:40pm - I slice and arrange the tomatoes in their baking dishes with some smashed garlic cloves and fresh thyme. Into the oven they go.

3:26pm - I’m sitting on my living room floor and writing the Hard-Roasted Cauliflower entry. My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the smell of roasted tomatoes. Heaven. 

4:10pm - I turn on the oven light so I can spy on the tomatoes. 

5:30pm - I sneakily spoon a few of the smaller tomatoes out of the baking dish and snack on them with some flaky sea salt. I’m pretty sure I could just eat all the tomatoes for my meal and feel totally satisfied.

5:48pm -  Tomatoes will be ready soon, so I slice and sauté the red onion. I add the anchovies, watching them melt and disappear before plopping in some tomato paste. 

5:59pm - I start bringing my pasta water to a boil. 

6:05pm - I take the tomatoes out of the oven, the sizzling olive oil makes crackling sounds as the roasting pan sits on top of my stove. I spoon the tomatoes into the pot with the onions and stir. The smell is incredible. 

6:10pm - I cook my pasta. I used yellow lentil & brown rice spaghetti noodles from TJ’s, and quite frankly, I couldn’t tell the difference between regular wheat pasta. (I’m GF by necessity, not by choice, believe me. So no bucatini, but something close enough.)

6:12pm - I watch the tomatoes slowly break down and the sauce thicken in the pot. 

6:18pm - I add the cooked pasta to my sauce pot with some cooking water and swirl it all until the sauce sticks to the noodles. I plate the pasta with a simple kale salad with lemon. Dinnertime magic. J confirms that this is the only tomato sauce I should ever make in the future. 

6:45pm - I do the dishes, and remember to reserve the leftover olive oil from the tomato dish. I’ll use it on a roast chicken for a dinner party with my in-laws tomorrow.  

I eat the pasta leftovers for my lunch the next day and feel zero bitterness about eating leftovers for lunch. 

8 recipes cooked, 217 recipes to go.

**Below are several anecdotal memories I have of tomatoes, because I’m trying to write about my experience with food as much as the recipes themselves. 

1. My first memory of tomatoes is eating my mom’s spaghetti with “red sauce.” I grew up on a limited rotation of dependable dinners like ground beef tacos, chicken and broccoli casserole, and spaghetti. The best nights were always spaghetti nights, not because of the pasta, but because of the tangy jarred marinara sauce. 

2. I’ve lived about 40% of my life in the Chicagoland area which is known for its deep dish pizza. And since you (didn’t) ask, I will declare that the best pizza in all of Chicago is from Lou Malnati’s for the sole reason that their pizzas are sauce-forward. Their sauce is made from a balanced blend of tomato chunks and pureed tomato, and it’s perfectly salty and infused with garlic. I always ask for an extra bowl of sauce to dip my pizza into, because it’s that good. 

3. In 2019, my husband and I lived our best lives in Italy. We took a 3 week trip there to celebrate his grad school graduation. We hiked by the ocean, looked at countless pieces of art and architecture, and Vespa’ed through wine country. If I could really live anywhere, I’d pick the quiet hillside town of Assisi. Since most of our days were filled with nonstop carbo-loading (and cheap wine drinking), we figured we better eat at least one meal on the “healthier” side each day. So every few days, we’d find a local food market and buy butter, a carton of eggs, and a box of fresh cherry tomatoes to cook our own breakfast (before later going to a cafe to buy fresh croissants). I don’t know if it was the lack of pesticides, or the climate, or the novelty of being in Italy, or some combination, but those cherry tomatoes really were the most juicy and flavorful tomatoes I’ve ever had. No cherry tomatoes, even in California, have matched them since.  

Me living my best life in Italy by the sea.