Fennel-Rubbed Pork Chops for Two by Alison Roman

I just received a text from Jordan, my husband, that reads: 

“The pork tastes just as good today! I’d say this recipe should go into the rotation :)” 

In other words, well, in my words, this dish is freaking fantastic and we will eat it often. 

Look at that caramelized brown sugar crust!

Undoubtedly, these pork chops rank in my top 10 Alison recipes, for several reasons. 

1. Flavor: The key here is subtlety. Though I’m usually one to favor in-your-face food (more salt, more lemon, more tang!), these chops seemed to hold back ever so slightly. Perhaps it was the perfectly balanced ratio of brown sugar to salt with the occasionally present fennel seed bursting with anise-like notes. Or maybe it’s the way that the fennel bulb softened and tempered as it heated through with the pork juices. 

2. Ease: Talk about a simple preparation! The chops are rubbed with a toasted fennel seed and brown sugar mixture, anywhere from 30 minutes to 24 hours before cooking. I prepped my chops right after breakfast so they spent plenty of time with the rub. I can only imagine how those hours of marination helped to tenderize the meat. The cooking method is a pan sear (cast iron preferred) until the meat reaches an internal temperature of 145 degrees, which only took about 15 minutes. Part way through, a thinly sliced fennel bulb is added to the pan. It becomes golden and limp as it soaks up the pork fat and liquified brown sugar. Top the plate with herbs and lemon zest. Voilá! 

3. Satisfaction: Bone-in pork chops are substantial, especially when you follow Alison’s instructions and buy ones that are 1½ inches thick. With the fennel on the side, Jordan and I were full after splitting one chop! 

4. Leftovers: Apparently, they’re “just as good” as the stuff that’s hot-off-the-pan. 

67 recipes cooked, 158 to go.

Spicy Red Cabbage with Sweet Onion and Lime by Alison Roman

I’ll say it right out. I was disappointed with this one. Not with the recipe, per se, but with the stubborn flavor of raw red cabbage. I had hoped that Alison’s additions of lime juice, sweet onion, honey, jalapeño, red pepper flakes, and sumac would bring this cruciferous vegetable to life. The ingredients certainly helped some, but I didn’t get the same soft, thoroughly tangy effect of a good ole coleslaw that I wanted. Partially, I think it’s because red cabbage is more… difficult than green cabbage. It’s more rigid in structure and prominent in cabbage-y flavor. And unlike most coleslaws, this recipe didn’t call for anything creamy like mayonnaise to soften things up.

Alison says she hates the word ‘coleslaw’ and is adamant that this is a SALAD recipe. So you see where the tension lies. Alison delivered on a salad with a strong cabbage flavor and little resemblance to a slaw. It’s just that that’s not what I was craving. If I make this again, I’ll try it with green cabbage, and add a 1/4th cup of mayonnaise. Sorry, Alison. 

66 recipes cooked, 159 to go.

Pasta with Crispy Squid, Lemon, and Chile by Alison Roman

Jordan and I usually splurge on an appetizer when we go out to eat for special occasions. If fried calamari is on the menu, it’s almost a guarantee that Jordan will suggest it. 

Other than in its salty breaded form, I encountered squid at overnight science camp in the 6th grade. There, we snorkeled the reefs of Catalina Island, learned about oceanic tides and dissected a large squid, squealing when the ink sack let out a potent black liquid all over our gloves. 

When it came to shop for squid in this dish, I could only picture the tiny tentacles and thin, curled rings in a calamari dish. You know, the rings that look like miniature pool intertubes. I spoke with the fishmonger at the Whole Foods counter, and searched the frozen section at TJ’s, but couldn’t find the small rings. It’d been a long time since I’d peered at a full squid, and I had forgotten that their bodies look like a long white tube with tentacles coming out one end. Then, it finally dawned on me that those calamari rings were actually sliced squid bodies. If I bought these large tubes, I would just need to slice them myself! 

Before cooking the squid, I first split each tentacle grouping in half and thinly sliced each long body into quarter-inch pieces. I was slightly concerned that they looked flat, without that signature curled ridge. But I was quickly put at ease – as soon as the tubes touched the hot skillet, they shrank and their edges folded over the top. They resembled what I recognized as restaurant calamari. 

My confidence was bolstered now, and I quite enjoyed the rest of the cooking process. Ahead of any squid business, I thinly sliced a lemon, four cloves of garlic, and a fresno chile. This allowed me to move with ease once the pan was hot and ready for the ingredients to be added in a rather quick succession. First, the squid is fried until golden brown, then removed temporarily from the pan. Next, the lemons and garlic sizzle in some olive oil, followed by the chile and the cooked squid. The cooked pasta and some pasta water get added last, with a seasoning of salt and pepper. The ingredients need time to simmer as a light sauce thickens and the noodles become well acquainted with flavor. The final step is to top the dish with a load of fresh herbs -- I used cilantro and basil, but dill and mint would also work. 

The whole meal was both filling, flavorful, and not too heavy. The lemon and garlic add a good bit of acid to balance any overly fishy tones from the squid. The fresno chile packed way more heat than I expected, but in a good way. It’s spiciness is a lot brighter than that of red pepper flakes, or even jalapeno. For that reason, I would argue that Fresno chile is a must. It also added some nice pops of bright red color to the dish. For those who might be interested, I served this with Alison’s Blood Orange & Avocado Salad.

65 recipes cooked, 160 to go.

Mustardy Green Beans with Anchovyed Walnuts by Alison Roman

I’ll admit I was skeptical about anchovyed walnuts. I wasn’t in the mood for fishy nuts as I started my dinner prep. To be honest, anchovyed anything never sounds appealing to me. And yet, I thoroughly enjoy eating anchovyed foods 9 out of 10 times they’re on my plate. So, it was past experience that pushed me to follow through with Alison’s instructions, not my appetite. 

And like most of my prior experience, these anchovyed walnuts were delicious. In a pot filled with a ¼ cup of olive oil, toast a cup of coarsely chopped walnuts until fragrant and golden. Remove from heat, and swirl in anchovies and grated garlic until the anchovies have melted and disappeared. Set them aside for later, and also snack on them while you make the rest of dinner. They’re just as nice on their own, and they’re not too fishy. 

We eat oven-roasted green beans, tossed with olive oil, salt, and pepper, about every 1-2 weeks here, so preparing the beans was a simple repetition for me. Alison has you throw in some thinly sliced lemon pieces, another standard addition in my kitchen. While everything gets lightly charred in the oven, prepare a simple dressing made of whole grain mustard, white wine vinegar and olive oil. When the beans are done, they get tossed in this tangy vinaigrette. 

The last step is to plate the saucy lemon and beans and sprinkle with whatever walnuts are left, post-snacking. The whole dish is bursting with my kind of flavor palette (I LOVE anything that boasts salt and vinegar). And the toasty walnuts are a nice textural contrast to the beans and charred lemon. While I don’t think I’ll go out of my way to make beans like this all the time, I do think I’ll start to go this route more often when I’m up to the extra steps. The reward is certainly worth it.

63 recipes cooked, 162 to go.

Mom’s Trout with Herby Breadcrumbs by Alison Roman

Trout… you mean the fish that my uncles caught every summer on our family trip in the mountains? The one that smells potently fishy? The one that made my cousins giggle as they cut it open with a pocketknife to watch the guts squirt out? 

I’m not making you want to read this post, sorry. I just have trout baggage. 

If it’s not abundantly clear already, I trust Alison’s taste, even when I don’t always agree with it. Even so, her trout recipes, of which there are several, have been on my “make once and never again” list from the very beginning. I wasn’t at all excited about making her mom’s trout. I did, however, have leftover sourdough to make the herby breadcrumbs – which is how this all began. 

Using my food processor, I pulsed my last few sourdough slices into breadcrumbs. I then mixed them with melted butter, chopped parsley and thyme. Seasoned with salt and pepper, I scattered them over the trout fillets and popped them into the oven for 10 minutes, until the crumbs were bubbling from the butter and the fish was just cooked through. Trout filets are very thin, so they take no time at all. 

I found my trout at Trader Joes, though I could only find it frozen. I chose to let it thaw in the refrigerator, starting in the morning. The scent was quite fishy, just like I expected, but the fresh breadcrumbs and lemon juice did a nice job tempering the scent so it didn’t overpower the meal. 

Based on this experience, I’ll give trout another try. I won’t, however, be gutting it myself like my uncles do. No way, Jose. 

64 recipes cooked, 161 to go.

with red wine risotto