Just-Cooked Cabbage with Anchovy and Lemon by Alison Roman

Every Monday morning, I lead a quick check-in meeting with my team at work. We all stand up in the conference room and say something about our weekend. Then we each share one thing we need to accomplish that week. A pseudo-scrum meeting, if you will. This week, as I sat on the train to work, I considered what question I’d ask the team to answer about their weekend. I landed on “tell us one yummy thing you ate or drank” and “tell us a color that best represents your weekend.” 

We went around the table and people shared about gimlets, chocolate tortes, and pizza. When it was my turn, I said the best thing I ate was a seared cabbage with anchovies and lemon. Everyone stared. A what? I went on to explain this recipe and what made it so tasty, but they remained largely skeptical. And I don’t blame them. 

This is one of those recipes I didn’t look forward to making and put it off to the end. I can tolerate cabbage when it’s mixed with other things (soup), or when it’s fermented (kimchi, sauerkraut). But a regular, cooked cabbage? That did not sound appetizing. It seems that Alison knew it was a stretch, too. She said this recipe barely made it in the book, but at the final hour, she decided it was too good to exclude. I think she knew just-cooked cabbage could be a hard sell for many cooks. 

I chose to cook a small, sweet cabbage, knowing Jordan and I couldn’t finish off an entire large bulb on our own. I quartered the cabbage and seared it in my cast iron skillet, roughly 6 minutes per side on medium-high heat. Alison says to salt and pepper the cabbage beforehand, but the salt just rolled right off onto the cutting board. I recommend waiting until it's cooked to season it. I melted the butter until foamy and slightly browned, then added the anchovies and let them shrink into tiny bits. I poured the buttery, salty liquid over the cabbage, squeezed half a lemon over the plate, and added flaky sea salt. 

I guess it’s hard to dislike melted butter with anchovies, no matter what you drizzle it over. Even a softened cabbage. And the lemon really takes it to another level. 

187 recipes cooked, 38 to go.

Raw Broccoli and Basil Salad with Shallots and Peanuts by Alison Roman

I’m a huge fan of The Office. If you are too, then you also probably think of this show whenever someone mentions raw broccoli. I’m thinking of the scene where the office is gathered in the conference room, and Michael is trying to persuade everyone why they need to live more healthy lifestyles. Kevin admits that he hates vegetables, especially broccoli. So Michael decides then and there to change that. He hands Kevin a massive raw broccoli tree and tells him to eat it in front of everyone. Of course, Kevin sticks the top of the tree straight in his mouth and begins to choke on the dry greens before spitting it all back out. It’s gross, but also hilarious. And since that scene, I’ve avoided raw broccoli in veggie trays ever since. 

Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to this recipe. Hence why I made it towards the end of this endeavor. 

But boy, was I pleasantly surprised. Instead of feeling like Kevin, repulsed by the dry mealiness of raw broccoli, I couldn’t stop myself from snacking on the broccoli before I served dinner! 

The key was using flowering broccoli (aka broccolini) instead of the stalky, bushy kind you see on a veggie tray. Flowering broccoli is a more physically flexible vegetable with bendy and tender stems and less densely populated treetops. (Sounds funny, but you know what I mean, right?) Once massaged in lime juice and fish sauce (yes, fish sauce) the greens are bursting with flavor and even more tender. I did decide to follow Alison’s tip and further slice the broccoli lengthwise into smaller strips. 

The lime juice/fish sauce combo and other toppings MAKE this salad what it is. Topping 1: frizzled shallots. Mine took twice as long to become golden like Alison instructs. Perhaps the pot I used was too small. Chopped peanuts add a nice crunch and nutty undertone. And basil, well, I’m sure it’d taste great! Sadly, mine spoiled in the fridge and I didn’t realize it until I pulled it out to use. 

My mom and sister expressed surprise at how much they also enjoyed the salad, both admitting that they were skeptical when I first told them the recipe name. Between the three of us, we finished off the whole bowl of broccoli along with Alison’s Tiny Creamy Pasta and glasses of red wine. 

If you, too, feel a hesitancy toward this salad — don’t. I think you’ll love it.

186 recipes cooked, 39 to go.

Tiny Creamy Pasta with Black Pepper and Pecorino by Alison Roman

I really enjoy tiny kitchen things. Tiny forks for eating grapes, tiny spoons for eating ice cream, tiny knives for cutting fancy cheese, tiny cups for juice, tiny plates for biscuits, and tiny bowls for everything! (I have four of them and affectionately call them my ‘mini bowls’ in a very particular voice intonation). 

So of course I was giddy when I saw a recipe for tiny pasta! Now, GF tiny pasta is hard to find. The best I could do were these tiny pasta shells by Jovial, which let me say, were delicious. I couldn’t tell they were GF - they held their structure, toasted nicely in the pot at the beginning, and their texture was like authentic pasta, no mushiness or mealiness to be found. 

I made this warm, wintery meal for my mother and sister who came to visit me in Chicago. It was a perfect weekend together, full of Christmas-y activities, including wearing matching pajamas. After spending much of the day walking around in the cold, our final evening consisted of this tiny pasta in my apartment with the heater on blast. 

It’s a simple and surprisingly creamy endeavor. In my Dutch oven, I toasted sliced garlic (from two extraordinarily large cloves!). Soon after, the pasta joins and the goal is to toast the shells in the garlicky oil so they develop a slightly nutty flavor. Once I could smell the toasting pasta, I added salt, lots of black pepper, a cup of finely grated Parmesan (this works if you don’t have pecorino) and several cups of water. The water needs to simmer for about 22 minutes, until fully absorbed and reduced to a creamy, cheesy sauce. Alison instructs us to stir frequently, which encourages the pasta to release its starch, thickening up the sauce and turning the water an opaque white. 

I plated (or should I say bowled?) the pasta and topped it with chopped chives and more black pepper. On most days, I would have chosen to add the raw egg yolk like Alison, but on this day, I just wasn’t in the mood. I served the pasta alongside Alison’s Raw Broccoli Salad with Shallots and Peanuts — a vegetable dish that completely surprised me. That one’s coming up next. 

This pasta is like a sophisticated, slightly more complicated mac and cheese, and it still only takes 25 minutes. Let’s just say I won’t be making regular mac and cheese again any time soon.

185 recipes cooked, 40 to go.

Cumin-Roasted Lamb Chops with Scallions and Peanuts by Alison Roman

I have an extraordinarily hard time doing nothing. I’m alone in my apartment for the first time in weeks, and instead of just watching the sun move across my furniture like I should, I feel compelled to immediately produce something, write something, be useful for goodness sake. I live in a constant state of urgency to accomplish more, maximize time. I wonder how many other people feel this level of pressure to be productive. Do they fight it and close their laptops to be still? Do they give into that hunger for checking a box and write about lamb chops instead? 

I choose to write about lamb chops. Who knows, perhaps I’ll choose stillness tomorrow… 

This was my first time ever cooking lamb chops. Given the priciness of this cut of meat, I chose to make a half-recipe just for Jordan and I. I bought the lamb at Whole Foods, unfrenched. (To save someone else the task of googling “frenched vs. unfrenched lamb chops,” I’ll just summarize the results for you: Frenching is the process of scraping the fat and meat off of one end of a bone to make it easier to hold. Unfrenched chops have less room for a good grip on the bottom, but then you get to have more meat.)

I ground up some cumin seeds, peppercorns (I used regular black ones, Szechuan sets my mouth on fire in a bad way), and pepper flakes with my mortar and pestle, then added salt to the mix. After rubbing the spices on all sides of each chop, I cooked them in my cast iron skillet, about 5 minutes per side, until 140 in the center, knowing they would rise to 145 as they sat. I then seared the scallions in all that lamby, fatty goodness, and tossed in the chopped peanuts and rice vinegar. The whole process took about 25 minutes - yes, that’s it! 

I served the lamb chops with Alison’s Persimmon & Pear Salad with Spicy Pecans and Blue Cheese salad - a strong combination bursting with flavor. I’ve eaten a good bit of tough lamb over the course of this project, but these chops were anything but. The meat was tender, not too chewy, and full of flavor. I savored every bite. 

The sun is still setting and my living room still feels safe and quiet. Maybe I can accomplish some writing and resting in the same afternoon? (There I go saying rest is something to accomplish…) 

184 recipes cooked, 41 to go.

Persimmon Salads Two Ways: ft. Apples, Cheddar, Spicy Pecans and Blue Cheese by Alison Roman

Until these salads, I’m not sure I understood the purpose of the persimmon. They’re like a slightly sweet, mostly flavorless person at a party that always looks put together with their bright orange outfits and pretty little leafy bows on top, but when you talk to them, you realize that meaningful, deep conversation isn’t their strong suit. Perfectly pleasant persimmon, but does it really make the party a richer event? Alison sure thinks so. In fact, it’s the persimmon’s subtlety she praises. Perhaps I get what she means. 

When it comes to standard vegetable salads, there’s a wealth of virtually flavorless leafy options to populate most of the bowl: romaine, kale, iceberg, spinach, butter lettuce, the list goes on. The leaves give us something to dress, something to pair toppings with. When it comes to fruit salads, what options do we have? Very few fruits don’t make a statement. In fact, I can only think of the persimmon. 

There, that’s it! Persimmons can be the romaine of our fruit salads, at least for the two months a year when they’re in season! To take advantage of their limited seasonality, Alison provided us with two somewhat similar, but truly tasty salad recipes. Even Jordan said both salads top his list for the project. 

< Quick interjection about Alison’s salad recipes -- I think I accidentally chose to make the salads I’d like the least at the beginning. For the first few months, it felt like most every salad I made struck out. It wasn’t so much the recipes themselves, I can see merit to them and why they were included in the book. The flavors just didn’t do it for me. They were usually more acidic and less balanced with salty and sweet. I didn’t want to save the leftovers. But in the last two months or so, every salad has been a hit. > 

Both persimmon salads are lovely, I think I prefer the Persimmon and Pear one a bit more - I love the combination of sweet/spicy nuts and strong, salty cheese with crisp fruit. 

A few notes about Persimmon and Pear Salad with Spicy Pecans and Blue Cheese: 

• Be sure to buy Bosc pears like Alison suggests. They’re typically a firmer pear that keeps its shape - perfect for plating in a salad. They’re also perfectly sweet and tangy. 

• I’ve never liked blue cheese. The smell is too potent and the taste too funky. Alison calls for a firm blue cheese so I bought the smallest block I could find. Much to my surprise, I could tolerate, and even slightly enjoy, the thin shavings of this hard cheese. If you also have a hard time with blue cheese, maybe the stiffer kind will be better? (The smell is still awful though, be forewarned.)

• The pecans were easily the best part, and so easy to make. Saute pecans in maple syrup and Aleppo pepper until bubbling and sort of “fuzzy” in appearance (Alison’s term, not mine, but it’s true!). Remove from heat and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Chop once cooled. 

A few notes about Vinegared Apples with Persimmon and White Cheddar: 

• Not much different from the first salad, except no nuts, and less strong of a choice of cheese. If you’re super, super opposed to blue cheese, I recommend making the other salad and swapping blue cheese for sharp white cheddar. Now you’ll have the best of both worlds!

Both salads are doused with white wine vinegar and drizzled with olive oil, salt, and pepper, which, together, unify the other ingredients. 

182 and 183 recipes cooked, 42 to go.