Black Bass with Salty, Spicy Celery by Alison Roman

Besides all of Alison’s salmon recipes, her black bass recipe is Jordan’s favorite seafood dish from this project, by a long shot. Reasons being threefold: tenderness, flavor, and ease. 

Tenderness: Alison instructs us to cook the fish filets in a foil packet with lots of olive oil, which allows for plenty of fatty steam to cook the fish through without letting it dry out. I’m a big parchment/foil packet fan when it comes to making fish. So quick, easy, and practically foolproof.

Flavor: This recipe includes an X factor ingredient – lime pickle. An indian condiment made of pickled lime. I confess that I didn’t use it here. I searched, but could not find it. So I improvised, and used a combination of salt, lime juice, and harissa to resemble the flavor. And though I can’t officially confirm how similar the flavors are, I personally loved how it turned out! The spicy, saltiness of my spices paired well with the fishiness of the bass, while not drowning out the fish’s flavor altogether. I used this combination with the celery and scallion salad too, and *chef’s kiss* my pals. What a fresh, fun, kick of a dish! 

Ease: The entire recipe took about 10 minutes of prep and 15 minutes in the oven. Half of the prep happened while the fish was in the oven. I also included a packet of frozen brown rice from TJ’s, mixed with a bit of harissa and sea salt to complete the dish. 

I will certainly make this one again. And then, probably, again.

174 recipes cooked, 51 to go.

Butter Beans, Tangy Mushrooms, Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Cheese, and Margaret

This is a Margaret Winchell Appreciation Post. 

Margaret is one of the dearest friends I have ever known. She’s one of the few people I can talk on the phone with for hours and forget how long it’s been. Her phone calls are like menthol when you have a bad cold. They clear your head, open up your chest, and lead you to hope that you’ll feel better very soon. 

Margaret is brilliant. Not in a tongue and cheek way. She’s actually brilliant, especially when it comes to music, teaching, cooking, baking, musical theater, leadership, and multi-tasking. Her brilliance can sometimes intimidate others when they first meet her. But after spending time with Margaret, you realize she uses her brilliance to draw others in. 

Margaret, as I just mentioned, is a phenomenal, intuition-driven cook, with instincts so sharp, they could pierce a stale loaf of bread like a tip of a Global knife. It’s her passion for food and hospitality that turned me on to cooking as well. We became real friends after college, right at the time that I was learning to cook myself. She showed me the way. She took me under her wing and had me cook alongside her in preparation for our weekly dinners with Amy, and then usually at some point over the weekends, too. We did a lot of cooking together those days. Margaret also introduced me to New York Times Cooking, which revolutionized what I cook. 

Margaret visited me last weekend, along with her grad school pal, Evan. A most delightful duo. I went into my suburban office on Friday for work, and took the 4:57pm train home. I walked through the door to find my dearest friend Margaret already through two of Alison’s recipes, and half way through a third. This spoke volumes to me. I could almost cry. When this project felt close to impossible, far out of reach from my energy coffers, Margaret stood in the gap, and darn well filled it. 

I can claim essentially no credit for cooking these three recipes, and that’s okay. I’ll let my friend serve me in this way. I did, however, eat all three dishes, and talked to Margaret at length about their preparation. So in lieu of describing a cooking process, I’ll offer here just a few thoughts and takeaways about each one: 

Vinegar-Marinated Butter Beans: 

• Something was UP with these beans. I had on hand a can of Eden Organic Butter Beans that had not expired, and were, you know, supposedly organic. But the best word to describe the final dish is “bitter.” We mused over this conundrum. Vinegar is acidic, but it shouldn’t taste bitter. Garlic can be bitter if you leave the green tips that sometimes sprout out the tops, but Margaret didn’t do this. What we’re left with are the beans. Something must be wrong with the beans. This dish has potential if you don’t have weird beans. It even keeps leftovers for up to two weeks, which I would normally do. But alas, we tossed our bitter beans. 

Tangy-Roasted Mushrooms: 

• Mushrooms, a good variety of them, are expensive, but worth it, IMO. 

• Mushrooms don’t shrink much when you roast them. They just get silkier in texture. 

• Thinly sliced onions add some fun bits of crunch here. 

• I would serve this at many a gathering. 

Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Too Much Cheese:

• Alison absolutely nails the flavor here. Perfect balance of salty, sour (from the artichokes) and creamy (from all that cheese). Pro tip: the flavor gets a glow-up when you add a few tangy-roasted mushrooms on the side. 

• We are floored that Alison doesn’t mention any options for ready-to-bake noodles. This feels like an obvious miss for the many people who don’t want to deal with the labor of parboiling noodles before assembling the dish. We simply refused to parboil, and so put our ready-to-bake noodles straight into the casserole. The top layer of noodles sure stayed tough and became like noodle chips. Not the worst outcome, but certainly not the most optimal. 

• In our humble, yet knowledgeable opinions, we don’t love the lasagna noodle choice. We believe in using a penne or rigatoni. We want to avoid the noodle chip effect.

171, 172, 173 recipes cooked, 52 to go.

Chicken and Mushroom Skillet Pie with Greens and Tarragon by Alison Roman

What a ride this pie was. How buttery, how delicious, how messy. 

It all started with a single disc of gluten-free pie crust (yes, the King Arthur one). I prepared the dough to chill at about noon, and once again felt like this disc is the best one I’ve made yet. My pie crust skills improve every time I attempt the task. It’s been personally satisfying to watch myself improve in this way over the course of the project. Of course, there’s always a mess with pie crust. Powdery flour that escapes from the saran wrap. Bits of butter that stick to the counter when rolling it out. But this doesn’t at all compare to the mess of the pie filling. 

Alison instructs us to brown and cook bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts and thighs in a large skillet. Cue the splatters of hot oil dotting the floor, counters, stove, and occasionally, my arms. The oil flies as the skin crisps and browns. It’s really a shame though, because after it cooks, Alison has you remove the meat and discard all bones, sinews, and skin. All that crispy goodness gone. The meat, though, is tender and juicy. 

Next, in the same skillet with all the chicken fat, garlic and leeks join to become soft and vibrantly green. I then added a pound of fresh mushrooms with salt and pepper, never minding the few little mushroom bits that always flop out of the skillet when I cook mushrooms. A few of them escaped and fell next to the flames underneath the skillet – don’t ask me how. 

Once the mushrooms softened, I mixed in a pat of butter and a quarter cup of gluten-free flour, which quickly thickens up the filling mixture. The next step calls for chicken broth, and I want to mention here, in case I haven’t already said this on the blog, my newfound love for Better than Bouillon. Margaret exposed me to this brand of chicken broth flavoring in goop form, and it’s changed my pantry for the better. Instead of buying (and wasting) so many cardboard boxes of chicken broth, and also needing to find places to store said broth boxes, I now have a jar of flavoring sitting in my refrigerator door, waiting to make batches upon batches of chicken broth, right when I need them. All it takes is one teaspoon of flavoring for each boiling cup of water, stirred in to make it a nicely flavored, not too salty bit of broth. I just bought my second jar at Costco today, which will last me for many months. Everyone should buy this product! 

Before turning down the heat, I streamed in heavy cream and a tablespoon or two of creme fraiche that I had leftover from The Greatest Creamed Greens. I then tossed in the separated chicken, chopped tarragon, and kale pieces. And here’s where I mention that Alison does NOT give instructions on the size of skillet to use. Which is problematic. By the time I added all of my ingredients, my 10-inch cast iron skillet was filled to its very brim. Any sudden movements, and the mixture would spill right over the edge. If you have a 12-inch ovenproof skillet, definitely use it here. 

Feeling precarious and cautious, I still chose to top the skillet in its very full state with the rolled out pie dough and stick it in the oven to bake. Which I realize now, was a mistake, but couldn’t know it then. Alison says nothing about how full the skillet should be or how to crimp the edges of the dough around the skillet rim to secure the filling. There’s a real lack of information in the book so allow me to fill in the gaps: 

1. It would be best to let the filling come up about a fourth of an inch from the top of the skillet. That way, when you lay the dough, it sort of falls into the pie and acts as a pseudo lid. Also, when the filling starts to bubble up, you will hopefully avoid it seeping over and making a huge, smoky mess in the oven as it burns on the bottom. (Yes, this happened to me.)

2. Trim off any straggling pieces of dough that drape far down the sides of the skillet. I tried to do this, but didn’t do it enough. Within a few minutes, several pieces of dough fell from the sides and burned at the bottom of the oven. 

3. Beware that the pie crust may turn golden faster than you think, so be ready to cover it with foil if it browns too quickly. I, thankfully, thought to check this and caught mine in time. 

4. Finally, though you make sizeable slits in the dough’s surface to allow steam to escape, beware that they could close up as the butter melts and tries to seal the surface again. Be ready to reinforce the slits with a sharp knife, as necessary. 

If you’re reading between the obvious lines, you’ll see that this was clearly a chaotic cooking/baking process. I learned a lot. I also honestly enjoyed eating the fruits of my very thorough labor. This pie is delightfully tangy, salty, and filling. Perfect for a cold night with a glass of red wine. It also made fantastic leftovers. I don’t know how soon I’ll make this again – I’m exhausted just thinking about it. But I know I’ll crave it again this winter. Perhaps I’ll make a “Skillet Pie Revisited” post to report back on how my suggested adjustments work. To be determined! 

170 recipes cooked, 55 to go.

Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Hot Honey Butter and Beets with Buttermilk and Walnuts

“A Working Woman Makes Sides”

This is the story of a working woman who also has a slowly budding social life in a new city. Said woman has been invited with her husband to dinner at a friend's house. She was asked to bring one side dish, so naturally she opted to bring two of them. She chose Roasted Sweet Potatoes with Hot Honey Butter and Beets with Buttermilk and Walnuts by Alison Roman. 

Of course, this presents complications. With the dinner on a Friday in the city and her work out in the suburbs, she knew she’d have but 20 minutes to assemble the sides when she got home before travelling to dinner. The commute would take its toll once again. So she had to get creative. 

She chose to roast her beets in vinegar the night before. She let the little guys ooze their juices and soften while spending an hour in the oven. This, she thought, would put her in a good position for the next evening. 

The next evening arrived in the blink of an eye. Earlier that day, she asked her husband to put the sweet potatoes in the oven so they would be piping hot when she got home. He did this, kind man, but just as the working woman suspected, the oven turned into a big hot mess. This is no fault of the husband. He followed instructions to a tee. The issue stems from the woman not trusting her instincts. You see, the woman read a recipe that told her to put the sweet potatoes, poked by a fork all over, directly on the oven rack to roast. But in her heart she knew that the sugars from the potatoes would ooze out and burn, sticking to the oven with gusto. And she was right, and the oven became one hot mess, and it created many smoky problems for her the next day… but that’s another story for another time. 

The clock was now ticking to get things ready and whisked off to her friend's house. In a matter of minutes, she frantically completed the following tasks (though she’d like you to think she did this calmly and coolly with an heir of sophistication): 

• Toast walnuts on a baking sheet for ten minutes 

• Peel and slice the beets

• Measure buttermilk, yogurt and lemon juice in a bowl, stir and add salt and pepper

• Thinly slice a red onion and lightly pickle the slices in lemon juice and sumac 

• Melt butter and spices, adding vinegar and honey too

• Scrape out the meats of very hot sweet potatoes into a bowl, practically burning her fingertips in the process

• Place the beets in the bowl with buttermilk and sprinkle the onions over them

• Chop the toasted walnuts and sprinkle them over the beets too 

• Drizzle the butter mixture over the sweet potatoes and give them a good stir

• Add cumin seeds to the top of the bowl of beets and cover with saran wrap

• Cover the bowl of potatoes with foil and pack a half a lemon in a bag, along with flaky salt

• Decide she’ll worry about cleaning the oven later 

• Tell husband it’s time to go 

All these things she did in mere minutes. She feels some loss at the fact that these tasks bring her real joy and life, but she couldn’t find that joy because of the need to rush. She needed to rush because she works far away. And she wonders how to balance that work and that joy. Can the two meet, coexist? All this, she knew, would be figured out over time. For now, she chose to focus on the six friends in front of her and enjoy those slightly spicy, salty, sweet potatoes. She savored the night she had left. 

168 and 169 recipes cooked, 56 to go.

Spiced and Braised Short Ribs with Creamy Potatoes by Alison Roman

It’s officially snowing here in Chicago, which means it’s officially braised short rib season! Tender beef, falling apart in its own juices, with soft, vinegary golden potatoes nestled on the sides. Now that’s what I call snowy weather food! I thoroughly enjoyed cooking and eating this meal. Despite the number of steps involved, anyone can make this if they’re willing to read instructions. Oh, and you’ll need a lot of time. This one takes at least 4 hours to make (though just over 3 of those hours are inactive). 

The first 45 minutes are dedicated to the following: Searing the meat until “deeply golden on all sides.” There’s a lot of leftover fat at the end of this process (short ribs just have a lot of fat!) so be ready with an old pickle jar or something to drain the excess fat, reserving some for the potatoes. The potatoes, cut in half, spend time in the fat to get a crispy edge to them while the meat stands to the side. Once the potatoes are done, they join the meat so the onion and garlic can take their turns. The onions get a toasty brown color before an onslaught of seeds rain down on the pot: coriander, fennel, cumin, red pepper flakes, and some cinnamon. Bring on those seeds and let ‘em toast! Next, tomato paste (I’d include one more tablespoon than what’s called for next time) plop in to caramelize, followed by vinegar (this makes the potatoes taste as great as they do!), broth, and lemon. Once the liquid is back at a simmer, the meat and potatoes get tightly nestled in the pot before hopping into the oven. 

The next 2 hours and 45 minutes are spent smelling the increasingly strong and delicious scents of dinner wafting through your apartment. That’s a long time to smell a good smell! 

For the final 30 minutes, the oven temperature gets a big boost and the lid to the pot is removed so the contents can thicken up. Alison says it’ll become a “rich sauce” but mine was more like a “rich liquid.” I just didn’t have the patience to wait for it to thicken, I guess. The meat was falling off the bone, and the potatoes were impossibly soft, which is all I truly cared about. 

This dish was delicious. My only tweaks would be to add more tomato paste, and possibly more lemon (maybe squeezing out a bit of its juice) to give it a stronger acidic quality. And of course, flaky sea salt is a MUST. 

167 recipes cooked, 58 to go.