Savory Barley Porridge with Parmesan and Soy by Alison Roman

Jordan and I spent our first two years of marriage living in Berkeley, CA. We rented an apartment that was approximately 400 square feet, which we lovingly called “the shoebox.” It should have been a studio, but in classic Bay Area fashion, they put a wall in the middle so they could call it a one-bedroom and charge more rent. The kitchen had a small stove and oven with one rack that couldn’t fit standard-sized baking sheets. Cooking took longer with less oven space to work with, but we made do. We shared one tiny closet, had no heating or air conditioning, and still, loved living there. 

Most Saturday mornings, Jordan could be found at his desk (it took up a third of our living room) studying. These were some of my favorite mornings because I could spend them any way I liked. Sometimes I’d go to the farmer’s market, sometimes Philz Coffee, but more often than not, I walked over to Acme Bread. Acme is primarily a bakery with a constantly long line of people waiting to purchase bread, no matter the day of the week. They converted a small room off the side of the bakery into a coffee bar where you can order from a very short, locally-sourced food and drink menu. Most weekends, I ordered coffee and sweet porridge, a blend of various grains, cooked in whole milk with housemade jam and shaved almonds on top. I ate it slowly and read a book or people-watched after the many characters that came to stand in the bakery line. 

a polaroid of me at Acme Bread

Acme also served a savory porridge, but I never had the guts to try it. I just couldn’t get behind eating salty grains for breakfast. Which is why it took me eleven months to finally cook Alison’s savory porridge. Of course, I’m going to say that (surprise) it’s actually really good, and I wouldn’t mind making it again. But you knew that was coming. To me, savory porridge is the right breakfast for mornings when you don’t want to eat right away, but you have the energy and the time to stand by the stove for a while. Personally speaking, I don’t have many mornings like that, so porridge will have to be a rarer occasion. 

Alison provides us with many topping options for this porridge, most of which I followed to great contentment. While the barley and millet cooked, I assembled the toppings. I had leftover mushrooms on hand from Alison’s Chicken Soup, which I sauteed. I had an extra leaf of swiss chard from re-making Alison’s Harissa-Rubbed Pork (a true winner). I tossed in some leftover scallions and some briefly toasted buckwheat groats. I tried to poach an egg, to great failure. I salvaged the yolk, but most of the egg whites were scattered about in the water. Someday I’ll figure out how to properly poach an egg, but this day was not that day. 

Parmesan and soy sauce are what make this porridge from a flavor standpoint. I even found myself adding more soy sauce than is called for to my bowl. All in all, it was a delightful breakfast, not to mention a filling one. I felt very “Bay Area” while eating it. 

Pro tip: If porridge leftovers aren’t exactly something you want to eat, then I recommend dividing the recipe by the exact amount of people who will eat it. I.e. If you’re going to eat this by yourself, I think it’s safe to make a fourth recipe. 

195 recipes cooked, 30 to go.

Salmon with Soy and Citrusy Charred Scallions by Alison Roman

What can I tell you about this salmon? First, I can say that it took me 3 weeks to write this -- I made it that long ago. Second, I can tell you that I spent most of this morning avoiding writing by dancing in my living room and reading emails and attempting to pickle some turnips that were about to go bad in my fridge. Third, I can say that salmon is a nostalgic food for me because I associate it with my Oma. 

Oma means grandmother in Dutch (& Korean, too, coincidentally). My Oma and Opa (grandfather) immigrated to the United States in 1964, with four young children, and a fifth on the way. Their fifth child was my mother. They moved to Southern California, where a large Dutch immigrant community lives, to start their “American Dream.”

Being a lover of plants, my Opa started a business selling flower seeds after arriving in the States. (Fun fact: Vis Seed Company still exists today and is run by my Uncles.) My Oma raised 5 children, and taught them how to laugh in the face of struggle (she loves to laugh) and be resilient. My Aunts, Uncles and mother have a particular inner toughness that I really admire. 

My Opa passed away before I was born, and my Oma has lived on her own ever since. She cooks her own meals and tends to her beautiful backyard garden in the afternoons. She is one of the strongest, most inspiring women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, much less being related to. She has 15 grandchildren and already 16 great grandchildren. Her heart is big. 

My Oma likes to make salmon every week. She’ll make a large portion and then eat it over several days. Whenever I make salmon, I think of her. 

This salmon, while it doesn’t beat Alison’s “best salmon ever” aka Slow Salmon with Citrus and Herbs, the final result was still flavorful, tender fish. Admittedly it is more fussy than the “best salmon ever” too, but not without cause. 

The fish is cooked in the oven with 2 Tbsp. of olive oil, which is not enough to cover it. Once again, the fish took longer than directed (10-12 minutes), but this time I was prepared for that to happen. While the salmon bakes, several scallions are charred in a cast iron skillet and then chopped. Mix them with a bowl of chopped raw scallions, orange and lemon juice, soy sauce, spices, and more olive oil. This sauce becomes the flavoring of the salmon that is then drizzled over the fish just before serving. 

The scallions, while a nice touch, didn’t feel necessary to me, and added an additional pan for washing. I would have been just as satisfied with only the juices and soy sauce to add flavor. The marinade/sauce can be used for roasting veggies (broccoli!), or drizzled on rice, which I served with the salmon. I’ll definitely make this one again, but will likely skip the scallions. 

39 recipes cooked, 186 to go.

Soy-Brined Halibut with Mustard Greens, Sesame, and Lime by Alison Roman

I like seafood. I never crave it. Some seafood is more appealing to me: salmon, calamari, mahi mahi. Other seafood makes me squirmy: clams, mussels, sardines. I’ve made salmon and shrimp before, but nothing else. 

Of course, there are a total of 30 seafood recipes between Alison’s two cookbooks, and this project will force me to cook all the seafood out there (including a whole branzino)! I had to start somewhere, right? Why not make it halibut. 

In the Midwest, halibut is not readily available in a regular grocery store, but I was able to track some down at Whole Foods. Halibut is also a bit pricey here, so I chose to cut this recipe in half and just make two filets (not four). 

Halibut is a thicker, mild white fish. Its meaty flesh is very impressionable. It easily absorbs the flavors it’s next to. In this recipe, soy sauce is the leader of the flavor pack. The fish is brined in it, along with a bit of rice vinegar and water, for 1-2 hours before showtime. This brine is primarily motivated by flavor, not so much for maintaining moisture like a turkey brine. 

If cooking fish were always this fast and easy, then I would have no reason to be so intimidated. Cooking this halibut was as simple as placing the fish in a saute pan in a pool of soy sauce, sesame oil and water over a light simmer. Cover the pan and let it cook through for 7 minutes. The steam cooks the fish through without drying it out, and creates a nice steaming liquid to braise the mustard greens. Mustard greens were a fun, tangy pairing for this somewhat bland fish. And a good amount of fresh lime juice and toasted sesame seeds brought it all together. 

I followed Alison’s suggestion and served this with Crispy Potatoes with Onions and Parsley. But I think this could just as easily go over a bowl of coconut rice.  

I didn’t expect to like this dish as much as I did. I’m looking forward to trying it in the summer, eating it on our deck with a glass of chilled white wine in hand. 

21 recipes cooked, 204 to go.

Soy-Braised Brisket with Caramelized Honey and Garlic by Alison Roman

This recipe reminded me a lot of a New York Times recipe by Sarah Digregorio that I make at least once a month, Honey-Soy Braised Pork with Ginger and Lime. They are similar in ingredients, flavor and cooking method. So I wasn’t at all surprised that we loved it. The biggest (obvious) difference between them was using beef brisket, which I had never cooked before. Partially because it’s expensive, partially because I found it intimidating. This project is forcing me to go out of my comfort zone all the time though, so now was as good a time as any to jump into brisket. 

The meat spends a total of 3 and a half hours on the stove over a low simmer, which means you spend 3 and a half hours smelling your dinner. It’s like having a fresh chocolate chip cookie dangled in front of your face for multiple hours. Annoying, but wow, what a delicious-looking cookie. 

A 3.5 lb. hunk of brisket is one big piece of meat. I practically needed two sets of tongs to lift it in and out of my Dutch oven. Before the clock starts on smelling your dinner, the beef is seared until deeply browned on all sides. Then the honey gets her time at the bottom of the Dutch oven to caramelize and become thinner so that it can coat heads of garlic, quartered onions, and spices. Once the onions are softened, the meat is nestled back in the pot, along with beef broth (or chicken broth), soy sauce, wine vinegar and fish sauce. Then the timer begins. 

210 minutes later, the fall-apart tender brisket is ready to be cut. By now the onions have become very soft memories of their former selves and pair perfectly with the meat in each bite, as do the confit garlic cloves. The braising liquid should be spooned over the top to keep everything moist and full of umami.

The closing statement to this dish is lots and lots of herbs. Alison calls for 4 cups of herbs (cilantro, mint, & basil) to be sprinkled over the top of the meat. It’s a veritable salad. And while J was worried they would get in the way of the meat, I found they were the perfect companion. I’ve never before had a salad made entirely of herbs, but this dish changed that and I am beginning to think of herbs more as standalone essentials and less as inconsequential flourishes. That’s one concept I know Alison believes in. 

12 recipes cooked, 213 recipes to go.