double-mushroom four-cheese penne marsala -- aka the best thing i have ever made.

Until somewhat recently, mushrooms topped the very short list of foods I refused to consume. But something wonderful happened over the past few years, and these delightful little fungi have switched from the top of the yuck list – which is no longer so much a list as it is the lone item “black olives” – to the top of the yum one.

Consequently, they’ve acquired a starring role in what is likely the awesomest recipe in my oeuvre. There’s nothing fancy about this pasta, but there is a lot yummy about it. Capers and red bell peppers, atypical Marsala ingredients, really brighten an otherwise fairly standard sauce, and the added four cheeses make things rich and lovely. I was so engrossed in devouring it that I completely forgot about the garlic bread smoldering away in the oven. We saved it just before it crossed over into crouton afterlife.

This supper was supposed to make for a low-key end to a low-key weekend (which included Rock of Ages, highly recommended for a super-fun summer flick), but two bottles of wine and a few slugs of 1800 later we wound up almost entirely neglecting the 3,000-piece jigsaw puzzle strewn all over the basement table. We’re wild like that.

messy plate,. very sorry.

double-mushroom four-cheese penne marsala

1 lb. whole wheat penne
8 oz. baby bella mushrooms, sliced
8 oz. Portobello mushrooms, sliced
1 red onion, thinly sliced
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
Three large garlic cloves, minced (I only used two, and it was not enough. B disagrees, but he is clearly wrong.)
Capers, like a handful or so
Marsala wine (a cup? Maybe? Just use enough to achieve the right consistency)
Italian four-cheese blend – ours was provolone, mozzarella, asiago and parmesan, but any blend will work
Salt & pepper
Butter (full-fat, salted, none of this margarine crap)
Flour

Melt 3-4 tablespoons of glorious, unapologetic butter over medium-low heat and caramelize the red onions. Raise heat to medium-high and add the peppers and mushrooms. Sautee for 5-10, until the mushrooms start to cook down, then add garlic and capers. Sautee for about 5 more minutes, until the garlic gets super fragrant, then salt and pepper everything. Add in 3-4 tablespoons of flour and stir well for 3-4 minutes to cook up a golden-brown roux. Stir in Marsala wine and raise heat to high. Thicken sauce, stirring constantly and adding in more wine as needed to reach the right consistency (it should be thinner than gravy but thicker than jus), then stir in servings of the four-cheese blend in quarter-cup increments until the sauce looks dangerous. Toss with pasta, top with more cheese and watch YouTube videos while singing inappropriately at the dinner table.

spicy black bean burritos

Though I might be a bit of a Tex-Mex snob, I am not above a visit to Chipotle on occasion; their barbacoa is the stuff of  legends. But now that I've drastically lessened the amount of meat in my life, I've found myself forced to stick to their black beans, which -- I'm sorry Willie Nelson, I really did love your adorably animated Chipotle commercial -- are bland, boring and nothing to write home about.

This problem is easily remedied by homemade burrito bar. With a little corner-cutting, it doesn't take nearly as long as you'd think: I had this all ready in 20 minutes with the assistance of prepared rice and guacamole.

had to use microsoft paint instead of photoshop for labels,
sorry for the kindergartenness of it...

I, like a total amateur, forgot to put cheese on mine -- there were just too many moving parts. And B, like a total amateur, ate his with a knife and a fork -- this, which borders on dealbreaker territory, is a transgression for which he must thoroughly atone. I'm fairly certain it is the eighth deadly sin.

Recipes for the beans and peppers are below; you can figure out the rest. I used Spanish rice from the box (yes, I am ashamed), 100-calorie burrito-sized whole-wheat tortillas, light sour cream, jarred salsa and pre-made guacamole (stop judging me!) Set everything out separately and frantic burrito assembly will surely ensue.

Throw in a few dishes of slow-cooked carnitas and barbacoa, some chips and queso and, of course, plenty of tequila and margaritas, and these would be the makings of a very fun dinner party.

spicy chipotle-brewed black beans
1 can organic black beans
1 small can chipotles in adobo
1 bunch chopped scallions
Chili powder
Cumin
Garlic powder (embarrassing but true, I was out of fresh garlic)
Tabasco

Mix beans with chipotles in adobo and scallions in small saucepan; use kitchen scissors to cut up chipotles in sauce. Add chili powder, cumin, garlic powder and Tabasco, stir well. Cook over medium heat for five minutes or so, then lower heat and simmer for as long as your stomach can stand it (minimum of 15 minutes, maximum of 1 hour). Serve with a slotted spoon to strain out some, but most certainly not all, of the cooking liquid.

charred peppers and onions
1 green bell pepper, sliced
1 onion, sliced
1/2 TBSP butter
salt & pepper

Melt butter in skillet over medium-high heat. Add peppers and onions and DO NOT stir. Season with salt and pepper and let cook for 4 minutes, then carefully flip over with spatula to char other side.

b's mom's mac 'n' cheese

When a man says "my mom makes the best _____," it is cause to swing into full-blown Barney Stinson mode: "Challenge accepted."

So B's mom gave me her mac 'n' cheese recipe, and I did my best to not only do it justice but to also put my own spin on it with a sprinkling of panko bread crumbs, an extra layer of cheese and a shower of ground black pepper.

queso es la vida

b's mom's mac 'n' cheese

1 lb. whole grain pasta (used shells)

1.5 lb. cheddar (used wisconsin)

1 8 oz. carton fat-free half 'n' half

panko bread crumbs

pepper mill

Preheat oven to 375; boil pasta. Mix noodles with some half 'n' half and one pound of cheese. Sprinkle top with panko bread crumbs and cover with the rest of the cheese. Bake, covered, for 45 minutes; remove foil and bake 5-10 more minutes or until cheese is browned on top.

red pepper parmesan brussels sprouts

If I could go back in time and tell 7-year-old me that grown-up me would love brussels sprouts, I am fairly certain there would be much pointing and laughing from 7-year-old me. Burgeoning adulthood has brought with it a palate that not only tolerates but actually seeks out cruciferous vegetables.

bonjour, mon ami.

Roasting these lil baby cabbages really brings out their sweetness without any of the bitter flavors or that funky sulfur smell; adding onions and red peppers to the mix lends a sweet edge, too.

red pepper parmesan brussels sprouts
quartered brussels sprouts
sliced onions
sliced red bell peppers
salt & pepper
garlic powder (or whole peeled garlic cloves)
extra virgin olive oil
parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 425. Toss first six ingredients and spread in single layer on baking sheet. Roast for 25 minutes, sprinkle with parmesan, add back to oven for three more minutes to melt cheese.

caramelized onion and cherry tomato ragout

If you're anything like me, you realize how truly rare it can be to actually finish a pint of cherry tomatoes before they pass on to a better place. So instead of throwing a third of the package down the garbage disposal at the end of the week as per usual — and because these particular tomatoes were organic, plump, firm and begging to be cooked — I got saucy.

it's amore

This is insanely simple; no bells and whistles here. It does take awhile — ragouts are to be cooked slow and low — but the long simmer time makes up for the short list of ingredients by steeping the deepest flavors of each element. I tossed it with pasta for this particular lunch, but it would be just as good on pizza...maybe even my low-cal version, perhaps...

caramelized onion and cherry tomato ragout

quartered cherry tomatoes
diced onion
minced garlic
balsamic vinegar
water
salt and pepper
crushed red pepper
extra virgin olive oil & butter
parmesan cheese

Sautee onions over lowwwww heat in a little bit of butter/olive oil mix, stirring occasionally. Add garlic and crushed red pepper after 10 minutes. After about 15 minutes, when the onions are nearly caramelized (really caramelized, not just softened), stir in tomatoes, splashes of balsamic vinegar, dashes of salt and pepper. Toss in a little water (start with 1/4 cup, add in more if mixture looks dry) and bring mixture to a boil for a very quick minute or two, stirring constantly and smushing the tomatoes in the pot. Return heat to low, cover and simmer for an hour, stirring occasionally.  Remove from heat and let stand to thicken before serving. Toss with pasta and parmesan.

lemon-pepper crusted salmon with roasted garlic broccoli

In the year 2008, I had somehow miraculously obtained the trifecta of urban stability: a rewarding career, a wonderful relationship and a beautiful apartment. Over the past four years I've experienced various incarnations of these blessings, but the one thing that's since then remained steadfast has been my friendship with my work family from that time.

My Monday mornings weren't filled with week-starting dread; rather, they launched with an excitement and anticipation to see my colleagues. We laughed so loud at times there were tears; we played Uno, shared baked goods, fabricated utterly outlandish inside jokes, ichatted, gchatted, out-loud chatted, chat-rouletted and once even threw chairs across the room when the rest of our office was out of town. I can't make this stuff up.

We've all since moved onward and upward career-wise, but still meet for a monthly dinnertime gigglefest. There are three of us: A is the brains of the operation and inventive baker, S is our moral compass and creative genius, and I'm pretty sure I am there solely for entertainment value. And for this:

joy to the fishes (that are still) in the deep blue sea...

lemon-pepper crusted salmon
salmon
panko bread crumbs
lemon-pepper seasoning
Italian dressing
butter & olive oil
salt

Preheat oven to 350. Marinate fish in Italian dressing for 25-30 minutes. Season panko crumbs with lemon pepper and salt, coat fish in crumbs. Heat skillet over medium-high heat, melt in butter & olive oil mix. Sear fish, skin side up, for 3-5 minutes or until golden brown. Transfer to baking sheet and roast in oven for 15-20 minutes or until the middle looks juicy and awesome.

roasted garlic lemon broccoli
broccoli florets
FRESH garlic
olive oil
lemons
salt

Toss broccoli florets with minced fresh garlic, olive oil and salt. Roast for 20 minutes at 350, season with lemon juice before serving.


We had salad (nothing special), bread (from the bakery) and scalloped potatoes, too, but I'm ashamed to say they were of the Bob Evans pre-made variety so there is no recipe to be posted. My sincerest apologies...

the end of a (very brief) era

My 30-day experiment came to a joyous end yesterday at a baby shower for one of my closest friends.

Meatballs were had. Chicken salad croissants were devoured. And, most importantly, multiple mimosas were downed. And afterward, I didn't get sick. (Phew.)

But despite all that, my ways remain irrevocably changed. From now on, I will only eat meat once a week. (For clarity's -- and flexibility's -- sake, I mean one day a week, not one meal a week.)

With the fourth week of this project arrived physiological changes that were simply too clear to ignore. Vegetarianism bears with it a quiet lightness of being that operates subtly on multiple levels -- physical, ethical, mental -- and my hope is that allowing just a little bit of meat back into my life will allow me to maintain this feeling while occasionally still indulging that carnivorous primal urge. After all -- I may be many things, but Texan is and will always be first and foremost.

What follows is a brief assessment of this month's not-exactly-drastic-but-still-significant results.

How I look
Pretty much exactly the same. I didn't lose a single pound or inch from anywhere. I will say, however, that my nails are looking mighty healthy (when they're not covered in semi-chipped black polish).

How I feel
I know, now, what Mick Jagger meant when he sang about satisfaction: He must have been going vegetarian. Up until yesterday, I hadn't been full -- that busting at the seams, unbuttoning-jeans, need-to-pass-out-now type of full -- throughout the month. But I learned to adjust my expectation level from being full to simply no longer being hungry.


Weeks one and two were grumpy. Lots of jonesing, lots of craving, LOTS of smoking -- yikes. My desire began to subside in week three. And by week four, I barely wanted or thought about it at all.


I shaved 30 seconds off my average speed on my standard six-mile run, and that's only so far; I continue to PR every few runs. Last week's nine-miler came in at 1:15:41 -- definitely no Jeremy Wariner, but pretty quick for my long-distance norm and especially for a smoker of Marlboro Reds...kicking those is absolutely next up on the deprivation agenda. It's only a matter of when.

I also cut the time it takes to peruse a menu; for someone like my former self, who'd eat anything and everything available (so long as there were no olives in the mix), there's something to be said for only being allowed 20 percent of a restaurant's repertoire. Maybe, sometimes, less choice does equal more freedom.

And you know what? The whole thing was actually kind of nice. I was more productive, more focused and much less ethically compromised by the idea of consuming another mammal. It was a previously unbeknownst conviction, a guilt that I was completely unaware existed because it'd been so deeply ingrained in my lifestyle from such a young age.

I won't try to pretend that some thick veil has vanished, that I'm a whole new woman, that the heaviest of weights has been lifted from my soul. I will just say that I am different. Not dramatically different, maybe not even noticeably different, but most definitely not the same.

And now, a recipe, just in time for summer:

There was an abundance of tomatoes left over from the shower. I bought three one-pound containers of Camparis to make mini chicken salad croissants, clearly underestimating just how mini the croissants would turn out to be. So when I got home, after a five-miler fueled primarily by cakeballs and peach champagne (bad idea), I threw together this nice summery salad:

should have added red onion. was tired of chopping.

Yeah, I know -- it's not summer yet. But we live in D.C., and it's already insanely hot. (Probably because of all the sinners).

cucumber
tomato (I used Camparis, but romas or even grapes would be a good choice)
red onion (I was too lazy to put them in. don't be like me.)
reduced-fat Feta
olive oil
red wine vinegar
honey (just a little bit, hey baby, just a little bit...)
garlic powder
Italian seasoning (I used Penzey's Italian dressing base)
lots of salt and pepper

Whisk olive oil, honey, vinegar, garlic powder and Italian seasoning together. Cut up vegetables, toss with dressing and feta, season with salt and pepper to taste.