Ensalada suroeste picante (spicy southwest salad)

Ah, salad. Few foods in the American diet share its level of ubiquity. One could even argue that it’s experiencing a sudden upsurge, considering the exponential growth of dedicated salad joints like Chopt, Mixt, Sweetgreen and whatever other obnoxiously named cafés I’m omitting.

Though it’s an easy way to introduce a hefty serving of veggies into one’s diet, eating what can sometimes taste like a bowl of grass for lunch every day gets pretty old.

salsa + ranch = <3

Enter homemade dressing. Using whatever ingredients are at one’s disposal to create new salad sauces helps dispel the monotony surrounding a daily dish of greens. In this particular salad, spicy salsa contrasts, and also carries farther the calorie count, of cool, creamy ranch, while hot peppers and onions offset crisp chilled lettuce and other veggies.

Other good ingredients to keep on-hand for homemade dressings are mustard (Dijon, regular, horseradish, whatever), honey, vinegar, lemons, limes, oranges, avocados, scallions, chiles, cilantro, basil, garlic, ketchup (haaaahahaha), Worcestershire, soy sauce, ginger…all it takes is a little imagination and a lot of quality olive oil.

Ensalada suroeste picante (spicy southwest salad)

onions and peppers (sautéed in olive oil, garlic and splashes of Worcestershire and tabasco)

black bean burger, cooked and diced

lettuce

carrots

red cabbage

pepper jack cheese

avocado

banana peppers

diced cherry tomatoes

salsa mixed with ranch dressing

vegetarian chili mac

There exist in this world three core belief systems with which every Texan must make peace at some point in his or her life. The first is God. The second is guns.

The third is chili.

Chili is the official state dish of Texas. According to Wikipedia (the modern be-all end-all of American history – Encyclopædia Britannica, your number's up), chili arrived with frontier settlers and spread throughout the southwestern United States as a result of San Antonio’s tourism industry.

proceed with caution

But, at the risk of eternally losing my Texas card, the following recipe violates state chili standards in three critical ways:

1) Its usage of beans. An old and quite common state saying goes something like “If you know beans about chili, you know chili ain’t got no beans.” But I can’t forgo them in my recipe. Absent beans, chili lacks the heartiness that so characterizes the dish.

2) Its substitution of veggie crumbles for ground beef. This will be considered sacrilege by many, and I hereby accept the subsequent Facebook defriendings that surely will ensue. But after it’s stewed for hours upon hours, I’m confident that this could survive a taste test among even the most insistent of carnivores.

3) Its mixing of macaroni. Texans serve chili with lots of crackers, lots of cheese and lots, lots, lots of hot sauce; pasta is rarely, if ever, included.

Perhaps from this recipe I’ve learned one thing – just like this chili, my particular brand of Texan may be composed of atypical traits. But sometimes a different batch of ingredients can still create something just as good as the real thing.

vegetarian chili

package veggie crumbles

black beans

canned diced tomatoes with chipotle (if you can’t find these then just add a can of chipotles in adobo)

Shiner Bock

onion

bell pepper

garlic

worcestershire

chili powder

cumin

paprika

oregano

tabasco (or chalula, whatever)

sriracha

crushed red pepper

salt & pepper

1 box whole-wheat elbow noodle (rotini would be good too)

 Slow-cook all ingredients except pasta on high for three to four hours. Cook pasta, toss with chili, top with cheddar cheese and serve with cold beer.

salted-caramel apple pie

Pertinent factoid: I do not bake.

Usually, if I bake something for you, I am either a) trying to poison you or b) apologizing for something I have done wrong.

Many wise women have said that the key to baking is precision. This requires an exceptional amount of patience, a trait of which I have decidedly little. I believe that in the kitchen one should be wild, experimental, instinctive, creative, not measuring and sifting and pinching and dashing.

That being said – I’m all about trying new things. So when a girlfriend of mine described preparing a peanut butter pie for her beloved, and his subsequent goddess-like worship of her, I figured there just might be something to getting all old-school domestic and making a pie.

Since neither B nor I are big peanut butter people (haha, picturing people made out of peanut butter, the funnies) I went with apple instead, with a drizzle of homemade salted caramel for good measure. And since B and I are both big bourbon fans, I went with a big hearty splash of Jack Daniels in the filling. Aaaand maybe a wee bit in my coffee, too…

3.14159265359

salted-caramel apple pie

1 double-crust pie crust recipe (I used the Trader Joe’s premade crust, don’t judge…)

6 green apples, thinly sliced

2 TBSP flour

½ cup sugar

1 TBSP cinnamon

1 TBSP lemon juice

1 cup salted caramel (click for recipe, big thanks to brown-eyed baker for step-by-step recipe with pictures)

Pinch salt

Pinch nutmeg

Big splash of bourbon

Preheat oven to 425. Mix all ingredients. Put in crust-lined pan, top with other crust, poke slits in top to vent. Bake for 45 minutes, let cool at least two hours before slicing, serving with vanilla ice cream and drizzling plate with extra salted caramel.

barbecue tofu broccoli cheddar pizza

Sounds weird, doesn't it? But sometimes weird can be good. Just look at Salvador Dali, chicken and waffles, Pink Floyd, prosthetic limbs...sometimes things that initially seem bizarre become actualized as masterpieces.

Masterpiece this was not, but it was strangely, surprisingly good. An extra hour at work and a tighter-than-normal budget combined forces to condemn me to a 30-minute cooking window using mostly on-hand ingredients, and thus was born this patchwork Frankensteinesque pie.

The broccoli edges toasted up all nice and crispy in the oven; sharp cheddar cut right through the sweet, smoky barbecue sauce, while sauteed onions and garlic lent depth and fragrance. And tofu, because protein.

B initially sounded skeptical when I suggested a barbecue-sauced pizza, but two glasses of wine and four slices later I think he’d begrudgingly accepted its existence. If begrudging acceptance is exemplified by taking leftovers to work the next day.  

barbecue tofu broccoli cheddar pizza

storebought pizza crust (Pillsbury cuz I’m simple like that)

barbecue sauce (Stubbs cuz I’m Texan)

broccoli, tossed with olive oil, salt & pepper 

tofu bites (recipe below)

extra sharp cheddar

onions

garlic

olive oil

salt and pepper

While pizza crust is pre-baking, sautee onions with garlic in olive oil, season with salt and pepper. Spread barbecue sauce on crust and sprinkle with toppings. Bake for 10-15 minutes or until pizza has reached desired crispitude.

crispy tofu bites

1 block extra-firm tofu

worcestershire sauce

honey

Whisk honey into Worcestershire sauce. Squeeze excess water out of tofu until it’s as dry as possible, dice into ½-inch cubes. Marinate cubes in Worcestershire-honey mixture for an hour. Bake for 30 minutes, turning once, at 400 degrees. Pop under broiler for a few minutes at end of baketime.

easy egg and avocado salad with tomatoes and banana peppers

Confession time: I am not an avocado fan.

This statement is not to be misread as “I am not a guacamole fan,” because let’s be honest: who ISN’T a guacamole fan? Maybe Hitler, because he’s German and dead, but that is probably about it. The additions of lime juice and spicy pico are in my opinion what turn bland, crayonlike alien green mush into creamy, tart chip heaven. Plain avocados merely pale in comparison.

But alas -- they’re good for you. Like, really good for you. So there I was this morning, bound and determined to somehow incorporate those wrinkly little suckers into my diet, thinking “how can I make this work?”

ready for my close-up

What resulted was the product of a sort-of kitchen-sink mentality: throw things together and see how it goes. And it went oh so very well. Spicy, tart banana peppers cut through the creaminess of the avocado and add the crunch that would have been present had I actually thought to stock celery in the refrigerator.  

And a little tip for you carni/omnivores out there: Adding crumbled bacon would send this salad off the charts.

omg hi

easy egg and avocado salad with tomatoes and banana peppers

4 eggs, hard-boiled and diced

1 avocado, diced

banana peppers, minced

grape tomatoes, quartered

mustard (I used regular but whole-grain would be much amazings)

garlic powder

tabasco

salt and pepper

Mix everything together sloppily in a bowl while racing the clock to make it to work on time. Slather on toast with veggies, try not to spill all over self during commute.

10 tips for surviving Bikram

The Bikram yoga bandwagon has brainwashed its latest rider.

Though I’ve long looked to running for its unique capacity to clear my mind, free my spirit, strengthen my body and burn major calories all in one fell swoop, it's beginning to weather these achey old joints of mine.

Enter hot yoga. With Bikram, I get all of those benefits wrapped up in a low-impact (albeit high-cost) package: a full 90 minutes of stretchy misery in 104 sticky degrees. It alleviates daily stressors in a number of ways, perhaps the most evident of these being that it forces you to so unwaveringly focus on staying alive that your mind has no energy — or sweat — left for the small stuff.

It is not a task to be undertaken lightly. Class can prove more of an exercise in patience than in fitness when it comes to battling sweaty yuppies for mat space; balancing precariously on the toes of one foot with pretzel-twisted limbs akimbo is often a labor of pain as much as it is one of love.

What follows are mainly nuggets of wisdom (if you can call it that) I wish someone would’ve offered me before I went into the experience. I may still be a Bikram rookie, but can only hope that a few of the things I’ve learned so far along this journey will keep you from spending your first class passed out in a puddle of your own vomit.

1. Raid the web for coupons before signing up — Groupon, Living Social, Google Offers, Amazon Local…dig and dig and dig for a deal before you settle on paying full price for a class. Hot yoga is mad expensive, but you can find bargains hiding among the annals of the ’net with a little patience, some perseverance and moderate interwebbing skills.

2. Skip the bra — Let the ladies breath. Trust me, they’ll need it. You won’t be moving quickly or abruptly enough to necessitate the support of one, anyway. If you want to stash one in your car to weather the speed bumps on the drive home, then so be it, but you’ll be much better off either without one or with a wireless cotton style that isn't too tight. Wear the lightest, loosest-fitting tank top you can find. Yes, it may look a little obscene, but the people around you are worried far more about the black spots they’re seeing in front of their eyes than what’s protruding from beneath your shirt.

3. No Bikram on squat/lower body days — Depending on your conditioning schedule, it’s better to do the class on upper-body workout days. The postures are heavily focused on hips, knees, glutes and quads, with lots of balancing, stabilizing and flexing leg muscles. Doing squats in the morning and Bikram at night can be overkill on your stems.

4. Get a good yoga towel — This doesn’t seem like something that would make a big difference, but good gracious does it ever. Standing on one locked knee with both elbows contorted in some warped fashion is difficult enough, but when the surface below is uneven twisted terry cloth, what should just be a minor annoyance can ruin a perfect pose. Get a long, flat yoga towel. In fact, get three or four. Laundry less often — that’s my motto.

5. Only fill your water bottle halfway — If your bottle is completely full at the start of class, the bottom half of it will be hot by the time the end rolls around. And after 90 minutes of hot yoga, the last thing you’ll want to drink is hot water. If you only fill it up halfway, you’ll have drained it halfway through class and can refill your bottle with nice, cold water. If you don't want to interrupt your zen session to refill then just jam your bottle with ice before class.

6. No big meals or difficult foods on yoga day — Eat small, light meals, and avoid foods that are prone to give you gas. Indigestion can ruin the whole experience…for everyone.

7. Don’t just hydrate; preserve your hydration — It’s not enough to just drink water all day leading up to yoga. Also avoid ingesting any high-sodium foods within three hours before class (or just in general, in life, at all. Except pickles and kimchi. ’Cuz yum.)

8. Do not wear pants — I love yoga pants as much as the next person, but they will feel like suffocation instead of freedom during Bikram.

9. Avoid the 6 p.m. weekday session — It may work best with your schedule, but there’s a reason for that — it works best with everyone else’s, too. Bikram requires an exceptional amount of concentration, and the more crowded the class is, the harder it is to focus on not dying everywhere all over everybody. Hold out for the 8 p.m. instead, or even get up for the morning class if you can summon the energy.

10. Wait 10 minutes after class to drive — Driving on a yoga high is not advised. Cool off in the AC for a few before attempting to operate heavy machinery…neighborhood pedestrians will thank you (since they’ll be alive to do so.)

11. BONUS TIP — Eat blueberry Greek yogurt afterward. Not only is it the perfect post-Bikram snack to cool down with its tart creaminess, it’s loaded with good protein and carbs for recovery while still being light on calories.

lemon-rosemary swordfish

A little more than a month ago, the D.C. metro area was swept by a storm to end all storms. A storm that felled 100-year-old trees, a storm that blew lounge chairs into pools – a storm that robbed my apartment complex of power for almost two days.

Fortunately for me, a good friend nearby – who used his wizardry to somehow emerge from the wreckage as the only Arlingtonian to retain electricity – hosted a barbecue for those less fortunate. And at said barbecue, another friend prepared a fish I’d never before enjoyed off the grill – swordfish.

Cue all-out obsession. There was Facebooking, tweeting, gchatting, somnambulating…I quickly became a woman possessed by the idea of making a swordfish to rival his.

i'm not as juicy as i look

Unfortunately, last night’s effort fell far short of such a goal. It was good, to be sure, but the mere 10 minutes under the broiler proved about three too many and the fish, alas, emerged almost dry.

In my defense, it is predominantly the fault of one Pentagon City Harris Teeter that did not carry swordfish, forcing me over to the local Giant, which only sold the frozen variety. I therefore had no choice but to forgo my best-laid marinate-and-pan-sear plan for a haphazard baste-and-broil method (since the marinating half-hour became a thawing half-hour). This, in turn, led to less moisture for the fish, which led to less flavor in the meat, which led to a nearly parched piece of swordfish landing on my plate. Just one more example of the wide-ranging implications of the butterfly effect.

lemon-rosemary swordfish (next time: marinate for an hour to right my wrongs.)

lemon juice

chopped rosemary

honey

olive oil

butter

swordfish

garlic

salt & pepper

lemon pepper

Whisk together lemon juice, chopped rosemary, honey, garlic and olive oil. Marinate swordfish in mixture for an hour. Preheat a greased broiler pan, add swordfish, season with salt, pepper and lemon pepper. Broil one inch from flame for seven minutes. Serve with quinoa and salad.

broccoli quinoa

quinoa

butter

chopped broccoli

chives

veggie broth

salt & pepper

Cook quinoa in veggie broth according to package directions. While quinoa is cooking, sautee broccoli and chives in a little butter, season with salt and pepper. Stir into cooked quinoa.