Celery Salad with Cilantro and Sesame by Alison Roman

I put off a celery salad for as long as I could. I just couldn’t imagine an entire salad made of celery -- a vegetable I don’t dare eat on its own. Its flavor is too strong for me. Eating it requires too much chewing. I don’t mind celery mixed into things like soup, but a base of celery? Never. 

I started a new full-time job in September and have made some new coworker pals. One evening after work, I was standing on the train platform, waiting for my ride back home to the city. I stood waiting with one such pal and told her about this project. “Oh Alison Roman! I love her recipes! My favorite is her celery salad with cilantro.” I did a double take. Of ALL the tasty recipes she could choose from, her favorite is a celery salad?! I was stumped. 

Of course, I now see a bit more of what she meant. No, this recipe isn’t my top 20 of the 225 recipes I’ve (almost) cooked. But it’s certainly in the top half of Alison salads and it’s something I’d make again. I followed Alison’s suggestion and prepared this recipe alongside her Soy-Braised Brisket (which was even better than I remembered it). The salad’s combination of sesame oil and fish sauce really complement the soy and honey flavors of the meat. Beyond the brisket, this salad would work really well with main dishes like pho, bulgogi, or chicken teriyaki.  

While the title suggests that the bulk of the salad consists of celery, I found it to be proportionately balanced with scallions, jalapeño, and cilantro as well. Tossed together with fish sauce, sesame oil, lime juice, and toasted sesame seeds — this celery salad is a wild card front runner I never saw coming.

210 recipes cooked, 15 to go.

Seeded Breadsticks with Parmesan by Alison Roman

I don’t think I’ve ever fully bought into the idea of the breadstick. What about the shape of a stick makes bread any better? Though a thinner cylinder of bread may be easier to bite into than a loaf, will you at least grant me the point that a bread stick dries out much faster than a round or rectangular loaf of bread? I like bread crust as a general matter, but will you not concede that the inner parts of bread, aka everything but the crust, is the best, softest, loveliest part of bread? And do you not also see that breadsticks, given their shape, inherently require a higher crust to inner bread ratio? Thus, making breadsticks inherently inferior to a normal oval loaf of bread? I don’t mean to be aggressive, but I can’t help but question the philosophy of going out of one’s way to make breadsticks, when clearly a loaf is better AND less work. 

To all the Olive Garden lovers who rave about their bottomless breadsticks, I tell you now, that OG is just not that good. The food is subpar and the restaurant lacks any charm. If the only thing you can love about it are their breadsticks, then there must be something wrong with the restaurant to begin with because breadsticks are also not very good. May I suggest, instead, Panera? If you’re going for a chain restaurant that specializes in carbohydrates, why not go to one that at least has fantastic loaves of sourdough, wheat, and just about every other kind of bread on tap. Plus, at Panera, you can order a cup of their tomato soup, which is my favorite. But that’s besides the point. 

Clearly Alison’s breadsticks did little to sway me. I appreciated her additions of sesame seeds, poppy seeds, and parmesan, which made them a little like everything-bagel breadsticks. But sadly, they dried out after just an hour and a half of sitting on the table during dinner. This was a product of the sticks being so thin -- she instructs you to cut the dough into 1/4th inch thick strips. Also, because they’re so thin, the breadsticks completely forfeited one of the most important functions of bread with dinner: dipping. There was simple not enough surface space to soak up and absorb the short rib juices (the main course). 

Sadly, this side is one of those that I made for the project, but don’t see the point in making again. I think I’ll stick with my bread loaves for dinner. 

166 recipes cooked, 59 to go.

Seared Short Ribs with Quick Kimchi and Sesame Salt by Alison Roman

“Short rib” is a misnomer. Imagine a rack of beef ribs. A string of bones connected by sinews with a thin layer of chewy meat on top. Now think of short ribs. Tender meat stands tall atop a long line of bones, with layers of fat interrupting the surface. In other words, short ribs are not shorter at all! Hence my confusion whilst shopping for short ribs. Do not be fooled, dear friends, by the height of the meat. A butcher’s vocabulary will always remain a partial mystery. 

Near our new apartment is a meat shop called Wild Fork. I’ve never lived so close to a meat shop before, and let me tell you, it’s a real treat! Wild Fork only sells frozen meat, so I had to let my short rib thaw in the fridge for two days before it was ready. On the day of cooking, Jordan took the meat out an hour or so beforehand to let it come closer to room temperature, then covered it with salt and brown sugar. By the time they were ready to sear, the brown sugar had turned liquidy and showed the color of molasses over the surface of the ribs. 

I’ll admit, I was nervous about attempting to sear a new cut of meat. Short ribs just look intimidating, there’s no way around it. With mild trepidation, I nestled the ribs meat-side down in my skillet and let the sugar form a dark crust while the meat cooked. Alison recommends 6-8 minutes per side, not counting the bone side. However, after the instructed amount of searing, my thermometer read 99 degrees in both ribs, which is far more rare than I’m comfortable with. If the cookbook picture of this recipe tells us anything, it’s that Alison doesn’t mind a bloody piece of beef. But sadly, I cannot wrap my head around that one. So I ended up turning the temperature to medium-low, covering the skillet with a lid, and cooking it until 125 degrees. While it was edible, I can’t say I loved the fattiness or the rareness. Our dinner guests said they enjoyed it, but I wasn’t thrilled. 

As per usual, Alison nails the condiments here. Quick kimchi, cucumbers, cilantro, flaky salt, and sesame oil are the perfect accompaniments. I made Melissa Clark’s Coconut Rice from Dinner, which paired well, but I missed having meat juices or a type of sauce to drizzle on the rice. 

Given the price of short rib, and my preference for less fattier meat, I don’t plan to invest in short rib again. I want more meat for my money. Next time I’ll try the sides in this recipe with a flavorful, less fatty beef or pork. 

143 recipes cooked, 82 to go.

Creamy Sesame Turmeric Dip by Alison Roman

The creamiest dip that I ever did eat, in fact. This largely simple spread includes three creamy ingredients: cream cheese, sour cream, and tahini. Not only that, but we’re instructed to combine them in a food processor, which gives a dense whipped cream effect. 

The other step involves heating olive oil and sesame seeds in a skillet until toasted and fragrant. Once removed from heat, add ground turmeric and swirl to combine. Pour the mixture onto the fluffy creamy goodness that awaits in a serving bowl.  

I served the dip alongside almond crackers, pita crackers, and sugar snap peas. Next time I’ll also throw in radishes and carrots. The dip practically begged me for a wider veggie display. (For those of you wondering, TJ’s now sells vegan cream cheese and sour cream. Which means everyone can eat this dip!)

133 recipes cooked, 92 to go.

Sour Cherry and Sesame Galette by Alison Roman

I was legitimately nervous about making this galette, for the sole reason that the pictures of it in nothing fancy are gorgeous. The top crust looks so delicate and precise – there’s no way my galette could even closely resemble what Alison made.  

Well, guess what. About half-way through the baking process, I decided not to care! I let my tendency to compare and harshly judge my own work go by the wayside. I was at my in-laws home with a lovely afternoon breeze passing through the screen door. My brother- and sister-in-law were in town, and I love their company. To let my petty pie crust fears get in the way of a lovely afternoon would simply violate all logical cost-benefit analysis. And if you’re a Varberg, cost-benefit analysis reigns supreme. 

So I went to town on two pie crust rounds, utilizing King Arthur’s Gluten Free pie crust recipe. I’ve now made five of these crusts now, and the recipe continues to hold up well. While the dough chilled, I focused on pitting 2.5 lbs of cherries. That’s a LOT of cherries! It was a divine moment when I discovered that Michelle owned a cherry pitter… I didn’t even know that existed! Instead of halving each cherry and digging the pit out with my thumb, I just punctured each cherry with the pitter, which spit out the pit into a tiny bowl. But even with this modern contraption, the task took about 30 minutes to finish. I tossed the cherries with lime zest and sugar before setting them aside to roll out the dough. 

Rolling pie dough takes patience and a willingness to stick it back in the fridge at a moment's notice. As soon as the dough starts to feel slightly too warm, it really needs to get cold again before trying to coax it along. I’m learning that pies are not something I can count on being finished in a certain window of time. They take the time they take, and so many external conditions affect that. 

Once the first disk was ready, I spread a third-cup of tahini paste over the dough, leaving a sizeable border along the edges. The cherries followed suit. I cut out holes in the other dough as instructed, though I confess that I didn’t plan the spacing out very well. To be honest, I was quite distracted by the fantastic conversation I was having with Heidi, my new sis. She’s delightful. Even more delightful than pie. I placed the holey dough on top and folded the edges. The final touches include an egg wash for browning, sugar, and sesame seeds. The galette spends about a half hour at a higher temp, and 20 minutes at a lower temp. By the end, the crust should be a light golden brown. 

I love cherries, so I enjoyed this one. The combination with tahini works, but it wasn’t my favorite. I wish everything was a little sweeter; the sourness of the cherries and saltiness of the sesame paste dominated the flavor. Even though some of the crust broke on top, I’m still proud of how this turned out. I’m growing, friends. And that feels really good. 

121 recipes cooked, 104 to go.