I lived in Italy for six months when I was 23 years old, because, well, Italy. I was out of college with not that many employable skills (having majored in English), and I basically decided that Italy was as good a place as any to plunk down and think about the rest of my life. I taught English in middle schools, evening classes, and corporate offices. I was in love with the country, the language, the Mediterranean sunshine, and the mountains. But of course, what I most loved was the food. I basically ate my way through Italy. I never met a pizza or a pasta I didn’t immediately scarf down. I hunted down regional specialties with eagle-eyed precision, sampling pesto in Genoa, bolognese in Bologna, granita in Sicily, and prosciutto in Parma. Probably every other day, I treated myself to a gelato – pistachio and strawberry (fragola) were my go-to’s. I dunked Mulino Bianco cookies in cappuccinos for breakfast and bought focaccia studded with salty olives and sweet onions for lunch. I discovered buffalo mozzarella and new food trends that tickled me to the core with delight – apparently, the Sicilians started the trend of eating brioche con gelato (which is basically a brioche bun stuffed with gelato) for breakfast, and I never wanted anything else with my cappuccino.

The food is ridiculous in Italy. Honestly, every trip to the supermarket felt like a culinary adventure. I would buy the pre-made, prepackaged Barilla brand raviolis in the refrigerated section, and they would taste better than any of the pastas I could remember eating in the States. Sometimes I went to people’s houses for English lessons, and sometimes they would offer me lunch – I still remember a pasta dish with soft, wilted zucchini and charred potatoes that was so simple, yet so addictive. The last time I was in Italy was probably over 10 years ago, and I am way overdue for a food tour.

The thing I love about Italian cooking is that it often focuses on only a few ingredients, and prizes quality of those ingredients above elaborate preparation or technique. What this translates to is straightforward, simple weeknight cooking! I really love this spaghetti carbonara because it is easy, yet creamy, rich, and delicious. It’s also fairly foolproof – the worse that will happen is that you might cook the eggs instead of coating the pasta with them, but apparently scrambled eggs and pasta are also a thing in Italy, and it sounds delicious to me, so I don’t think I would even mind if this happened. So go ahead – find the most gourmet pancetta, cheese, and butter you can, pour some wine, and get an Italian feast together in under 30 minutes.

We personally ate this with sautéed leeks and roasted brussels sprouts, and one of James’s old fashioneds. Time to dinner, including all sides: about 45 minutes.

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Spaghetti Carbonara

Source: BBC Good Food

Ingredients

• 4 ounces pancetta
• 3 large eggs
• 1 3/4 ounces grated pecorino cheese (about 1/2 packed cup)
• 1 3/4 ounces grated parmesan cheese (about 1/2 packed cup)
• 12 ounces spaghetti
• 1/4 cup unsalted butter (sometimes I use half butter, half olive oil to make the dish a bit lighter)
• 4 cloves garlic, peeled and smashed
• Salt and lots of freshly grated black pepper

Instructions

• Put a large pot of water on to boil. If the pancetta isn’t chopped already, remove any rind and chop into small cubes about 1/4-inch across. Beat the eggs in a medium bowl. Add the two cheeses to the eggs, season with lots of freshly grated black pepper, and stir to combine. Set aside.
  
• Salt the pasta water liberally. When the water has boiled, add the spaghetti and stir so that the noodles don’t stick together. Cook for about 10 minutes, or until done.
• While the pasta is cooking, start the pancetta. Melt the butter in a large skillet over medium heat, and add the pancetta and garlic. Cook on medium heat for about 5 minutes, stirring often, until the pancetta is golden and crisp. You can now discard the garlic, or, if you’re like me and enjoy eating large garlic cloves drenched in butter, feel free to leave them in. (I sometimes chop the garlic coarsely, and then just leave the pieces in. The butter really mellows their flavor, and they become quite flavorful)
• After the pancetta has browned, turn the heat to low. Drain the pasta when it’s cooked, but reserve 1 cup or so of the pasta water. Add the pasta to the pancetta in the skillet. Alternatively, you can transfer the pasta straight from the pot to the skillet with a pasta fork or tongs. Either way, don’t worry if pasta water drops in the pan as well (you want this to happen).
• Remove the skillet of spaghetti and pancetta from the heat. Pour in the egg and cheese mixture, and, moving quickly, use tongs or a long fork to toss the spaghetti and pancetta with the egg mixture. You’ll want to move and toss the pasta around quickly so that the egg mixture doesn’t cook and scramble. Add some splashes of the pasta water to thin out the cheese sauce to your desired consistency. I would start with about 1/4 cup and add more if needed – I usually end up using about 1/2 cup. The pasta should look silky, smooth, and glossy, and the noodles should slide about fairly freely. If the dish looks dry and stiff, just add more pasta water and mix. Season with a little salt, if needed, and lots of freshly grated black pepper. Toss until everything is combined.
• Serve immediately (in warmed bowls, if you're being fancy; spaghetti carbonara cools quite rapidly), topped with more freshly grated black pepper and grated cheese, if you prefer.

I’m back!! Sorry for the extended absence, August was a flurry of vacations, friends, and animal sightings! James and I had our one-year anniversary of marital bliss (bliss sometimes; general tolerance the rest of the time), and celebrated by going back to Boston, where we met, and traipsing with some friends to Cape Cod, where we first vacationed. Then we went hiking, camping, and swimming in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park (side note – did you know that the Smokies is THE TOP MOST visited national park in the U.S.? I was floored – I thought for sure it would be Yellowstone or Yosemite! #westcoastbias). The trips were great. Unfortunately, there was a not insignificant amount of rain in both places, but we made do. The Cape was stunning, as usual, and the Smokies were woody, forested peaks threaded through with rocky streams. Very picturesque, but definitely lacking the grandeur and scale of the West Coast national parks (#westcoastbias). James and I have a halfhearted goal of visiting all of the national parks, though, so that was a big one off the list! We also saw four black bears, which was really cool! All of the sightings were in very touristy locations, however, where we saw the crowds of people with cameras before we saw the bears, so it wasn’t too scary. It did prompt us to buy this amazing book, Bear in the Backseat, which I highly recommend, and which has taught me a wealth of information about bear behavior.

Also, FOOOOOOODDDD. Except when we were camping, James and I have eaten our way through the fried chicken restaurants of Tennessee. One place in particular, the Old Mill Restaurant in Pigeon Forge, TN, was AMAZING – James and I both got the fried chicken dinner, which consisted of six fried chicken legs, a side salad, corn chowder, corn fritters, green beans, mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, and choice of dessert, all for $18.99 each! We ate ourselves silly, then took home leftovers for lunch the next day, which we lugged up to Andrews Bald for a sun-splattered, dozy picnic. We also sampled moonshine in Gatlinburg, TN, which tastes probably about how you’d imagine. There are a lot of different flavors, of which we got to taste 12, ranging from apple pie to strawberry mango margarita to seasonal peach. The tasting made us a bit more tiddly than expected, and we had to park our butts on some rocking chairs to take advantage of the free outdoor bluegrass concert before driving on to dinner! Gatlinburg, located right on the doorstep of the Smokies, is a thing of wonder – think the Las Vegas of Tennessee!

After we got back from the Smokies, we then immediately sauntered off to St. Paul, where my good friend Kate had graciously scheduled her baby shower to be at the same time at the Minnesota State Fair, which she loves. We went to the fair with her, and saw the most beautiful farm animals – baby donkeys, sleek horses, impressive cows, the state’s biggest boar, and tiny little 4-hour old piglets. We also ate a Scotch egg on a stick, the sweetest corn I’d ever tasted, and a bucket of ice cream. All in all, a very successful trip to Minnesota.

Okay, onto the recipe of this week. This recipe is a bit of a cheat, because I think probably 90% of my readers (read, friends) already know about it. However, IF YOU DO NOT, YOU SHOULD. It is an amazingly easy, no frills, set-it-and-forget-it pasta sauce that nevertheless tastes luxurious, rich, velvety, flavorful, and so much better than just the sum of its parts. We made it after coming back from the Smokies, when we were craving homemade (and not fried) food, but with hardly anything in the fridge and little time to go grocery shopping. With just five ingredients (canned tomatoes, onion, butter, pasta, zucchini), plus some olive oil, salt, and pepper, you can have a vegetable-forward, healthy, delicious dinner on the table with very minimal effort.

Marcella Hazan is widely considered to be the Julia Child of Italian cooking. Her cookbook, Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, is fantastic, with recipes ranging from the foolproof (like this popular recipe) to the elaborate. I’ve made several things from it, and they have always been great. This sauce is not only easy, but also endlessly customizable. Feel free to toss in herbs, vegetables, even a little crumbled sausage. You can also do what my friend Kristin does, and make this sauce to go with some pre-made, fancy fresh pasta or ravioli, thus elevating your weeknight dinner game even more. The only limiting factor is your imagination!

Final Notes – this sauce gets better the more it’s simmered. The recipe tells you to simmer for 45 minutes, which is kind of a pain, but you don’t do anything while simmering, except give it a stir every now and then. So I’ve still classified this recipe as Fuss Factor 1, but just note it won’t be super quick. Also, Marcella tells you to throw the onion away at the end, but I don’t know why you would – it’s delicious, so I normally quarter the onion, then just serve the pieces with the pasta. Top with some Parmesan, and you have a pasta fit to be served in any trattoria off the coast of Italy!

We topped the pasta with freshly grated Parmesan cheese, and served it with a mountain of roasted zucchini, and it was just what we wanted after a week of fried chicken. Total time to dinner, including sides: 50 minutes

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Marcella Hazan's Tomato Sauce

Source: Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, by Marcella Hazan

Also available on the New York Times

Ingredients

• 1 (28-ounce) can whole peeled tomatoes, no salt or herbs added
• 5 tablespoons butter
• 1 onion, peeled and cut in half or quarters
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper and Parmesan cheese (optional)

Instructions

• Combine the tomatoes, their juices, butter and onion in a saucepan. Add a pinch or two of salt.
• Place over medium heat and bring to a simmer. Cook, uncovered, for about 45 minutes. Stir occasionally, mashing any large tomato pieces with a spoon. Taste, and season with more salt if needed.
• Toss the sauce with pasta, discarding the onion before tossing if you wish. Top with freshly ground black pepper and freshly grated Parmesan cheese, if desired. This recipe makes enough sauce for a pound of pasta.

The other day my friend Nick asked me if my blog was good for the “extreme-budget-conscious” (he’s a tiny bit prone to hyperbole). I exclaimed, “Yes! Of cou—” and then remembered that I had just spent $45 on one pound of canned crab meat (canned, no less), because I became obsessed with this recipe from the New York Times (not from Melissa Clark – shocker!). Coming from Boston to Chicago, one of the things I miss most are the summers filled with fresh, abundant seafood. Friends and I would drive to the beach on the weekends, always stopping along the way for fried clams, lobster rolls, and juicy, garlicky shrimp. There are no seafood shacks in Chicago, but I did find a nice (expensive) fishmonger at Dirk’s Fish, where I procured the aforementioned crab. Which immediately compelled James to joke that if the apocalypse arrived, we would be sitting pretty with our canned crab meat supply (not technically true – it says very specifically on the label that this canned fish is to be refrigerated at all times).

Anyway, I’m obsessed with this recipe because I love crab, and crab plays a prominent, unmistakable role in this dish. My (overpriced) tinned crab was fine, but I swoon to think how you could elevate this dish with fresh, sweet, just plucked-from-the-sea crab meat. If you live on the East Coast, get your hands on fresh crab meat. This dish doesn’t have a lot of ingredients or strong flavors, so quality ingredients is really key here. Besides that, though, this dish is just so darn easy. Cooking the pasta actually takes the longest time, and the sauce literally just involves chopping a bunch of herbs and warming up the crème fraîche. This recipe should be almost a Fuss Factor 0, it’s so breathlessly easy.

Fun Facts Time: Crème fraîche is French for “fresh cream.” Despite the name, however, it isn’t really fresh at all! Instead, it is a thick, soured cream traditionally produced by simply leaving fresh cow’s cream at room temperature. The naturally occurring bacterial cultures not only prevent it from spoiling, but also work to thicken and acidify the cream. Today, European regulations do not allow any ingredients in crème fraîche other than cream and bacterial culture. However, in the U.S. where all dairy is pasteurized (if not ultra-pasteurized), the cream is instead fermented with the addition of buttermilk or yogurt. Crème fraîche may be difficult to find, or can be expensive, but remarkably, it is shockingly easy to make your own! Just mix together heavy cream and buttermilk, let sit at room temperature for half a day, and WATCH SCIENCE HAPPEN! In a pinch, or if you don’t like science, you can substitute sour cream, although crème fraîche is thicker, less tangy, and has a higher fat content and richer flavor than sour cream. If substituting sour cream, take care to just warm the cream, and do not let it simmer, as sour cream can easily curdle over high heat.

Other Things to Note:

• I bumped up the flavors because I wanted to avoid just creamy crab pasta. I left all the pith and seeds of the serrano pepper in because I wanted more heat, and I increased all the herbs.
• Based on other reader comments, I also added a shower of fresh lemon juice at the end, which also helps to cut the creaminess and brighten up the dish.
• Feel free to vary the herbs according to your preferences or stockpiles. According to the New York Times, mint, dill, or chervil would all work well here.

So, Nick, no, this particular recipe is not for the extreme budget conscious. It’s probably for those who chase down (overpriced) fishmongers to have crab on a Wednesday, and who probably sip tea with their pinkies in the air.

We served this with some roasted asparagus. Total time to dinner, including sides: like, 30 minutes.

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Spicy Crab Linguine with Mustard, Crème Fraîche and Herbs

Source: The New York Times

Ingredients

• 1 pound linguine
• 1 cup crème fraîche
• 1 serrano or jalapeño pepper, finely chopped
• 3 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• 1/4 teaspoon cayenne
• Salt and pepper
• 1 pound cooked crab meat, lump if possible
• 1/4 cup finely chopped chives
• 8 scallions, thinly sliced on an angle
• 2 tablespoons tarragon leaves, roughly chopped
• 1 tablespoon basil, roughly chopped
• Freshly squeezed lemon juice

Instructions

• Put a large pot of heavily salted water on to boil. Add the linguine, and cook until al dente.
• While the pasta cooks, warm the crème fraîche over medium heat in a wide skillet. Stir in serrano or jalapeño pepper, mustard, and cayenne and season with salt and pepper. Add crab meat, stir to coat, and heat through, about 2 minutes.
• Drain pasta and add to skillet with a few tablespoons (up to about 1/4 cup) of pasta water. Add the chives, scallions, tarragon, and basil. Toss gently to combine all the ingredients and coat pasta with the sauce. Squeeze fresh lemon juice over the pasta and toss once more. Transfer to a warm serving dish and garnish with additional herbs, if desired.

Happy belated summer solstice! I love love love these long, balmy summer nights in Chicago where it stays light out forever, and you feel completely justified in going for a digestive walk after dinner only to end up at the ole’ ice cream shoppe. Every time September rolls around, I host an internal debate where I try to decide what I’m dreading the most – the cold, the snow, or the dark. The cold usually wins in the end, but it’s a pretty fair fight between the three.

Anyway. Even though it’s summer, I still love a good comfort pasta! Not to worry – this is not heavy hibernation food that knocks you out, but it isn’t altogether light and summery either. It’s an earthy, hearty pasta perfect for after you’ve had an excellent workout or for when you’re tired of salads. Reader comments on the recipe cite eastern European roots, probably due to the massive amount of cabbage it uses. I am a big cabbage fan (and so is Melissa Clark). I love plain cabbage sauteed with garlic, ginger, and salt and pepper. And did you know that cabbage is actually insanely healthy?? I felt incredibly vindicated after I learned that, because I had always felt slightly ashamed of my love of this humble vegetable, but no more! Bring on all of the cabbage stir-fries.

However, cabbage and pasta I had never considered before. Nevertheless, I am a true convert – this recipe has become a great staple in our weeknight dinners, and honestly, the first time I had it, I thought it was definitely something you could get out at a nice restaurant! The flavors are so unique – the savoriness of anchovies, sage, and pecorino, combined with the sweet and tender caramelized cabbage, and all laced with buttery breadcrumbs. It does take a bit of time to make, but I’m so invested in this recipe that I’m planning on experimenting with some time-saving and fuss-saving tips next time, and I’ll let you know. Also, if it helps, much of the time is spent waiting for the cabbage to cook, with absolutely minimal prep otherwise, so you can definitely use that time to prepare some dinner sides, clean up, leaf through People Magazine, feed the cat,… whatever.

Some Notes:

• Where there are ranges in the ingredient quantities, the lower quantity represents the original amount specified in the New York Times recipe. The higher quantity represents what I used. I upped the cabbage because I love cabbage – see above. Besides, the cabbage reduces down so much after cooking that you really have tons of flexibility in how much you use. I also dramatically increased the anchovy content because I had 10 fillets in my tin and what the heck. The additional anchovies definitely gave the final dish a distinct (but not overpowering) anchovy taste, but I liked it – anchovies are the bacon of the sea and all! If you don’t like the flavor of anchovies, stick with the 4 fillets, but do add them – they will add umami, depth, and flavor with no fishiness, I promise.
• I also added capers in the dish after reading the reader comments, since I love capers. They definitely added a salty, zingy bite though, so salt sparingly otherwise.
• About cutting the cabbage – I found it easiest to quarter the cabbage first, and just slice it thinly. Don’t worry if the strands are super long – they’ll cook and break down.
• After cooking this myself a few times, and after reading the reader comments, it really does seem like a whole host of factors can determine how quickly your cabbage caramelizes. Be patient – it took me about 40 minutes this time, from first addition of cabbage to final mixing of ingredients. Some readers have suggested cooking the cabbage over the stove for 10 minutes to release moisture, then roasting the cabbage in the oven at 350°F, checking on it and stirring every 15 minutes or so. I haven’t tried this, but it seems like it would be less fuss, so I’ll update if I do.
• You also have some flexibility in how deeply you caramelize the cabbage. I only cooked it until it was just starting to brown. In hindsight, looking at my pictures, I probably could have cooked it a bit longer. Still, it was sweet, tender, and flavorful. Feel free to taste and cook to your preference, although I would probably stop cooking it before it loses all structural integrity, so that it stays intact against the pasta.

We served this with some roasted asparagus one night, then with roasted brussels sprouts the next night. Total time to dinner, including sides: about 1 hour – 1 hour 15 minutes.

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Pasta With Caramelized Cabbage, Anchovies, and Bread Crumbs

Source: New York Times Cooking

Ingredients

• 1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil
• 6 garlic cloves, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon red chile flakes
• 8 - 14 cups shredded cabbage (About 2 - 3 pounds)
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 4 - 10 anchovy fillets
• 1/2 cup Panko bread crumbs
• 1 - 2 tablespoons finely chopped fresh sage
• 2 tablespoons capers (optional)
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper, plus more to taste
• 1 pound dry penne
• 2/3 cup grated pecorino or Parmesan cheese

Instructions

• Place a large pot of heavily salted water on the stove to boil. If it boils before you're ready to cook the pasta, just turn the heat off and cover the pot. This will keep your water piping hot and ensure that it starts boiling almost immediately after you turn the heat back on.
• Heat the oil in a very large skillet or Dutch oven over medium-low heat. Add about half of the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add the chile flakes and cook for about 30 seconds more. Stir in the cabbage and the salt - it will feel like too much cabbage, but it will cook down, don't worry. Cover and cook for about 10 minutes over medium-low heat, stirring occasionally. Uncover and turn the heat up to medium-high. Cook until the cabbage caramelizes. Stir occasionally at first, then more frequently once the cabbage starts caramelizing to prevent burning. Don't worry if cabbage pieces start sticking to the pan - just keep scraping the bottom of the pan and tossing the mixture around. Depending on a whole host of factors (how much cabbage you use, how wide your pot is, how much water was in the cabbage when you started), the caramelization process will take anywhere from 10 - 30 minutes after uncovering the pot. Be patient, and let color and taste be your guide. The cabbage should take on a light golden brown color, and be sweet and flavorful. It will be completely softened, and will have reduced dramatically in volume.
• While you're waiting for the cabbage, melt the butter in a separate small skillet over medium heat. Add the anchovies and cook, mashing with a spatula, until they dissolve into the butter. Stir in the remaining garlic and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in the bread crumbs, sage, and capers, if using, and cook until the mixture is brown and crispy, about 2 minutes. Season with black pepper and set aside.
• When the cabbage is just starting to turn brown at the edges, add the pasta to the boiling pot of water and cook according to package instructions until barely al dente. Drain.
• Add the pasta and bread-crumb mixture into the cabbage mixture and combine, heating everything through. Remove the pan from heat, add in the cheese and toss to combine. Season with salt and lots of freshly cracked black pepper, if desired.

On Friday, June 8, 2018, America was again rocked by the apparent suicide of Anthony Bourdain, following so close on the heels of Kate Spade’s death. It seems inappropriate to let this moment pass without comment, but I must admit, I don’t actually know that much about Anthony Bourdain. I’ve seen a couple of episodes of his show “No Reservations,” but I’ve never read his books and I didn’t follow his new show “Parts Unknown.” But, I did know undoubtedly of him. Friends who were similarly obsessed with good food and travel referenced him constantly, especially when discussing new foods and new restaurants in new places. I always nodded along, telling myself that when I got back home, I’d watch the episode they mentioned, I’d read his original “Kitchen Confidential” book, I’d get to know this man who, for all intents and purposes, seemed to embody the same open-hearted, adventurous, curious attitude I strive for toward food, travel, and life.

And so, it was with regret that I processed the news about his death – regret that I didn’t get to know this man before he passed (as much as you can know someone by reading their books and watching them on television), regret that I’ll no longer be able to follow along on his journey in real time, only looking backward with a retrospective lens. I’m clearly not the only person who feels this way, as sales of his books have skyrocketed on Amazon after his death. This development isn’t necessarily that surprising, but I like to think that Mr. Bourdain would find it a little amusing, a little sad, and a little hopeful – that his untimely death, as heartbreaking as it was, may yet still lead to fuller lives for so many more people, may lead people to discover him, to know him, and maybe finally to do what he has always advocated – to see, to experience, to engage, to eat, to share, to move.

I didn’t set out to pair this recipe with the news of Anthony Bourdain’s passing, but it seems fitting. This fried zucchini pasta is by Yotam Ottolenghi, an Israeli-British chef born in Jerusalem. I visited Israel in 2010 with my friend Priya, and I was awed by the bright salt tang of Tel Aviv, the deep, rich history behind the white stone walls of Jerusalem, and the endless markets with baskets piled high with ruby spices, dried rose hips, and fragrant plump bread. We ate the most flavorful falafel I’d ever tasted, we floated in the Dead Sea, and we spoke about religion, faith, and belonging. It seems appropriate that I honor Anthony Bourdain’s passing with these memories. It also seems fitting that a recipe evoking the summery liveliness of the Mediterranean is a good reminder of the joy and inspiration that Anthony Bourdain has brought to so many lives.

Now – Ottolenghi – his recipes, while looking delicious, are usually far too daunting and intimidating for a weeknight meal. This pasta is different. Yes, you have to fry the zucchini, but it doesn’t actually take all that long (as I’ve already mentioned, I crowd most things whenever I can, and zucchini is no different), and you can perch yourself on a high chair the whole time you do it. After the zucchini is fried, the rest of the meal comes together rather quickly, and then you have on your hands a flavorful, bright summer pasta that should be eaten outdoors, on a patio, with a dry glass of white wine while you marvel at the beauty, sunset, and life all around you.

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Fried Zucchini and Pasta Salad

Source: Smitten Kitchen, originally from Plenty, by Yotam Ottolenghi

Ingredients

• 5 medium zucchini, cut into 1/4-inch thick slices
• 2 1/2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• 1 1/4 cups frozen edamame or fresh or frozen peas
• 3 cups basil leaves, coarsely chopped
• 1/2 cup parsley leaves
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 1 pound penne or other short tubular pasta (I used casarecce)
• Zest of 1 1/2 lemons
• 2 1/2 tablespoons capers
• 10 ounces buffalo or ordinary mozzarella, torn into chunks
• 2/3 cup canola, vegetable, or sunflower oil, for frying
• Salt and black pepper

Instructions

• Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil for the pasta.
• In a skillet or cast iron pan, heat oil over medium-high heat. Fry zucchini slices in batches for about 3-4 minutes, flipping once, until golden brown on both sides. Transfer to a plate lined with paper towels to drain, and sprinkle salt and black pepper over each batch. Once cool enough to handle, transfer zucchini to your final serving bowl. Once all the zucchini are fried, pour vinegar on top of zucchini and toss gently.
• In the hot water, cook edamame or frozen peas for 3-4 minutes, or fresh peas for 2 minutes. Fish the edamame or peas out of the boiling water (I do this with a metal sieve), and set aside to dry. Keep boiling water in pot, and cook the pasta until al dente in it. 
• In a food processor, combine half the basil and all the parsley and olive oil. Season with salt and pepper and process until smooth.
• Once the pasta is done, drain and add to the bowl with the zucchini. Also add the edamame / peas, basil sauce, lemon zest, capers, and mozzarella. Mix everything together gently, then taste and season with more salt and pepper if necessary. Just before serving, stir in the remaining basil. 

Notes

I, being me, scaled up the recipe roughly 1.5 times to have enough for leftovers, and also to use the entire 1-pound box of pasta I bought. If you want to make four servings, follow the quantities listed on the Smitten Kitchen website; the instructions remain for the most part unchanged.

Sometimes we eat like toddlers.

Okay. Okay. Now you’re going to yell at me, because fussy meatballs, plus a load of ingredients for a separate sauce, plus maybe another vegetable to get your greens in, is not a weeknight dinner! And… I would have nothing to say back to you. You’re right. Deb from Smitten Kitchen (in case you couldn’t tell, my other fangirl cooking crush in addition to Melissa Clark) has an easier, quicker “Everyday Meatball” recipe, which doesn’t require you to brown the meat and is, in fact, a much likelier candidate for true weeknight dinners. I’ve also made this, and those meatballs are also delicious.

HOWEVER. I love the char you get from browned meat and can’t bear to give it up. So, to compromise, I squish as many meatballs as I can in my skillet, turn up the heat, and fry them for less time. You’ve already seen how I crowd my vegetables; now you know I also crowd my meatballs. The last time I made this, I ended up with 24 meatballs, which, annoyingly, necessitated a third batch of browning to brown a puny 3 meatballs. So next time, I would try to aim for 20-21 meatballs, and squish them all together in my 12-inch skillet to brown in two batches. Anyway, even with three batches, the browning, to me, is worth it for the resulting flavor. I also swap out fresh breadcrumbs for Panko here for ease and convenience. The meatballs are still delicious.

Also, I feel like the other point that I must make in my defense is that this recipe makes a mound of food, like enough for 6-8 servings (24 meatballs, about 3 meatballs per meal = almost 8 meals of meatballs!). James and I (eventually) eat all of it – because meatballs and sauce reheat so well, and I could never tire of carbs, oniony sauce, and tender beefy meatballs even if I have to eat it for four meals throughout the week. Also, I swear that it tastes even better the next day, and the next. So if you feel inspired on a slow Monday (is there ever such a thing?!), or even a Sunday, this humble, filling, hearty dish is for you!

We served this with a side of steamed broccoli, and it took me about 2 hours total, from opening my fridge door to sitting down at the table to eat. And now, wine!

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Meatballs and Spaghetti

Adapted from Smitten Kitchen (where it was adapted from Ina Garten)

Ingredients

For the meatballs:

• 1 pound ground beef
• 1/2 pound ground pork
• 1/2 pound ground veal (You can substitute another ½ pound pork here, but I find the addition of the veal scrumptious)
• 3/4 cup Panko breadcrumbs
• 3 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (or a small heap)
• 1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 teaspoons sea salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, or more to taste
• 1 teaspoon onion powder
• 1 large egg, beaten
• Vegetable oil
• Olive oil

For the sauce:

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1 cup chopped yellow onion (from 1 onion)
• 3-4 cloves garlic, minced
• Pinch of red pepper flakes
• 1/2 cup good red wine (I omit this about half the time for less fuss, and the sauce still tastes totally delicious)
• 1 (14-ounce) can pureed tomatoes
• 1 (28-ounce) can chopped or diced tomatoes
• 3 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (or a small heap)
• 1 1/2 teaspoons sea salt
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

For serving:

• 1 pound dried spaghetti, cooked according to package instructions
• Freshly grated parmesan

Instructions

• For the meatballs: Place the ground meats, bread crumbs, parsley, Parmesan, salt, pepper, onion powder, egg, and 3/4 cup warm water in a bowl. Mix very gently with a fork or your fingers until just combined. You don’t want to overmix the meat (if you look closely, full pieces of ground meat should still be visible), as that will result in dense, tough meatballs and bland flavor. Using your hands, lightly form the mixture into 2-inch meatballs. I always end up with about 21-24 meatballs, but you can make yours smaller or bigger as you wish.
• Pour equal amounts of vegetable oil and olive oil into a large skillet (mine was a 12-inch, 3-quart pan and was a bit too small for all of the meatballs and sauce) to a depth of about 1/4-inch. Heat the oil over medium heat. Working in batches, place the meatballs in the oil and brown them well on all sides, turning carefully with tongs or a fork, taking about 5 minutes per batch. Remove the meatballs to a plate covered with paper towels to drain. Pour out the excess oil but don’t clean the pan - all of those stuck, charred meat bits will flavor the sauce.
• For the sauce: Heat the olive oil in the same pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until translucent and softened, about 7 minutes. Add the garlic and red pepper flakes, and cook for 1 more minute. Add the wine and cook on high heat, scraping up all the brown bits in the pan, until almost all the liquid has evaporated, about 3 minutes. Stir in the tomatoes, parsley, salt, and pepper.
• Return the meatballs to the sauce, cover, and gently simmer for 25 to 30 minutes, until the meatballs are cooked through. I usually just poke a meatball open and look inside - the meat in the middle should be brown and juices should run clear. Meatballs are also hard to overcook since they’re basically just braising in liquid, which I also like for a weeknight meal.
• Serve: hot on cooked spaghetti and top with more grated Parmesan, if desired.

Sausage Kale Pasta was going to be the name of my blog. When I first started thinking about starting a blog, I was sure I’d hit upon the perfect domain name! Sausage kale pasta is definitely the dinner that James and I make the most frequently, and this little three-word combination is bandied around our kitchen like a tennis ball whenever we’re at a loss for dinner ideas. It is the epitome of a nonfussy, forgiving, foolproof weeknight dinner. You can add more or less of each ingredient you like, you can add other ingredients, it being endlessly customizable, it is a one-pot meal that allows you to incorporate oh so many fresh vegetables, and it can be on the table in 30 minutes, max. Plus, it is DELICIOUS! Come on, friends, go to sausagekalepasta.com for all your weeknight dinner needs!

Then James pointed out some flaws with this plan. Sausage kale pasta doesn’t exactly represent the whole diversity of the weeknight dinners I make (and that diversity is incredible, yeah? Yeah?). Would I tag my Instagram pictures #sausagekalepasta? What if it’s a picture of a fried chicken drumstick? What about the desserts that I love to make? Well, maybe I can abbreviate my Instagram tag to #skp, I suggested. No such luck – inconceivably, #skp already exists and I think it has to do with hair dye. What about #skpkitchen? A bit wordy, and also, maybe a bit too similar to #smittenkitchen, which I adore and dare not cross.

And so, sausagekalepasta.com was abandoned, and the hunt for a new name was on. I wanted the name to be creative, and not tooo on-the-nose (Weeknight Cooking was out. It was probably already taken). Some usual suspects (The Fearless Chef) were already taken; other names that I thought were more unique (Recipe Obsessed) turned out to be not that unique, as they were also snatched up. Some names that I thought were clever were rejected by James (Dine and Dusted – “is that a pun? What’s it a pun on?”; Very Food Motivated – “what does that even mean?”). In the end, James was rooting for The Trials of a Chef – because I try out lots of recipes, but I also undergo quite a trial trying to get dinner on the table when James gets home from his long commute and he can’t think about anything other than how huuuuuunnnngrrryyyyyyyyy he is. I liked the name, but I still thought it was a bit too wordy and maybe a bit too literal? Also, can I call myself a chef?? The next morning, however, I woke up, yelled out “Trial by Fryer!” to James eating breakfast in the kitchen while I was still in bed, and this little project was born.

But even though sausage kale pasta, the domain name, may be retired, sausage kale pasta, the dinner, will never be. Guys – it is so easy. It’s literally sausage, kale, and pasta. Plus some garlic, crushed red pepper, and good olive oil. In the pictures, we’ve added mushrooms, but you don’t have to. If you want it to be more flavorful and interesting, add any of the additions I suggest at the end, or come up with your own! But trust that it will be delicious even if you don’t add anything other than the original ingredients. Feel free to treat this recipe as more of a technique, one that you can modify to your own tastes and really make your own.

And so, I give you – my favorite weeknight dinner, the secret weapon in my arsenal, something I never need a recipe for anymore and neither will you, after you make it once – the humble, the magical, the uplifting, sausage kale pasta.

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Sausage Kale Pasta

Ingredients

• 4-6 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 pound Italian sausage, without the casings
• 1-2 bunches kale (This really depends on how you like your pasta. The dish will accommodate 2 bunches for a more vegetable-forward pasta, and 1 bunch for a more sausage-forward pasta)
• 1 pound pasta (I like to use the funnest shapes I can find in the pasta aisle, like campanelle, cellentani, or gemelli)
• Olive oil
• Salt and freshly cracked black pepper
• Crushed red pepper flakes

Instructions

• Put a big pot of water on to boil, and salt water liberally. When water is boiling, cook the pasta according to directions. Drain, but reserve some pasta cooking water in case the dish is too dry at the end.
• While waiting for the water the boil and the pasta to cook, prep and cook the rest of the dish. Wash the kale, rinsing under cold running water. Remove tough stems and tear or cut the kale into chunks about half the size of your palm.
• Heat 1-2 tablespoons of olive oil in a very large skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the sausage and break it apart into bite-size pieces with chopsticks or a wooden spatula. Add crushed red pepper flakes and continue cooking until sausage is browned and mostly cooked through, with just a tiny hint of pink in the middle. This will take 5-7 minutes.
• Add the kale into the skillet and season with a few dashes of salt and generous black pepper. Cook, stirring, until the kale wilts, about 5 minutes. If you have way too much kale for your pan, as I always do, don’t fret. Just pile in as much as you can, and continue stirring and rotating. When the kale in the pan starts to cook down, add the rest of the kale and continue stirring to distribute.
• When the kale is wilted and soft, and the sausage is completely cooked through, add the cooked and drained pasta, stirring in some pasta water if the dish looks too dry. Toss everything together, cooking for about another minute or two.

Notes

Optional Add-Ins:

Protein:

Pancetta - Cook together with the sausage, or substitute pancetta for sausage. Pancetta is fattier and saltier than sausage, so I usually use about 8 ounces of pancetta if I’m substituting entirely.

Chicken - This dish really works best with sausage, because that’s what provides most of the fat and flavor. However, I have made it with chicken before. In this case, dice up 1 pound of chicken breast or chicken thighs, and cook in place of the sausage. While cooking, season liberally with salt, pepper, and whatever spices you have in your cabinet. I like using cumin, chili powder, coriander, onion powder, and white pepper. Add some generous splashes of these spices while you’re cooking the chicken, and be liberal with the olive oil!

Vegetables:

Onion - I almost always add an onion now, although when I started this recipe I never used to. I think it adds a depth of flavor and is an incredibly easy step. Chop one onion and add it to the olive oil with the garlic. Cook until the onion starts becoming translucent, about 3, then add the sausage meat.

Mushrooms - You can see in the pictures we've added mushrooms here. I use about 8 ounces of sliced mushrooms (use your favorite variety; this dish can also accommodate more if you really like mushrooms). Add the mushrooms to the cooking sausage after the sausage is just starting to brown, after about 3 minutes.

Spinach - Add a few handfuls of spinach along with the kale. Alternatively, you can substitute spinach for kale.

Aromatics:

Garlic powder, chili powder, white pepper - Add them to the cooking meat, the cooking kale, or the final product!

Herbs: parsley, oregano - Add at the end when you’re tossing the dish together.

Sauces - Stir in some tomato sauce or fresh cream when tossing all the ingredients together.

 

James first made some garlicky, buttery shrimp about a few months ago, just to go with some leftovers we had, and my first thought was, why don’t we eat this all the time?? And why don’t we eat this on a huge mound of pasta, with some bright green spinach to welcome spring and brightness and sunshine and feeling like we’re on the coast of Spain even though we’re stuck in Chicago, where spring is still sort of playing hard to get in MAY, and all of my anticipatory summer clothes sit collecting dust in my closet…

Luckily, James and I are going to Bermuda next week, which is a good substitute for a Spanish coast I think (bring on the rompers!), and so in preparation, I brought out the bright spring shrimp scampi! I used a recipe from the New York Times (yes, Melissa Clark. I promise I don’t get all my recipes from Melissa Clark, but – come on – just look at her pics!) Shrimp scampi is so easy, but after reading the readers’ comments and doing some additional research, I added a fussier step of simmering the shrimp shells in wine for about 5 minutes for more flavor.

And – you guys – I couldn’t believe how easy shrimp stock was to make. I’ve never done it before, so I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, as you can see from the pictures and the note at the bottom. But basically, you just simmer the shells in wine for five minutes, and you’re left with a fragrant, rich, undeniably seafood-y wine. Not good for drinking, but great for seafood dishes!

Anyway, I also upped all the sauce ingredients because some people complained of not enough sauce, and nobody wants that. We served it with linguine (I bet it’s also amazing with crusty French bread), and I added some pasta water at the end to thicken and bind the sauce to the pasta even more.

We had this with that bright green spinach, sipping the leftover wine, and dreaming of sunny days and balmy nights. Bermuda can’t come soon enough!

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Shrimp Scampi with Linguine

Source: The New York Times

Ingredients

• 3 tablespoons butter
• 3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 8 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 cup dry white wine or broth
• ¾ teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
• ¼ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, or to taste
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 2 pounds large or extra-large shrimp, preserving the shells if desired
• ⅓ cup chopped parsley, or more to taste
• Freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon
• ¼ – ½ cup cooked pasta water (if serving with pasta)
• Accompaniments: Spaghetti or linguine, or crusty bread

Instructions

• Optional but recommended: Rinse the shrimp shells under cold running water. Heat a saucepan over medium heat and add a drizzle of olive oil. When oil is hot, add the shrimp SHELLS (not the shrimp!) and toss for 30 seconds in the hot oil. Add the wine or broth and bring to a boil. Lower the heat and simmer for 5 minutes. After five minutes, strain the wine or broth for use. I had about 7/8 of the cup of liquid left after simmering.
• In a large skillet with a lid, melt the butter with olive oil over medium heat. Add the garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the wine or broth, salt, red pepper flakes, and lots of black pepper and bring to a simmer. Let wine or broth reduce by half, about 3-4 minutes.
• Add the shrimp into the liquid and spread them out in an even layer, then cover the pan. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the shrimp just turn pink and have curled up into a loose "C" shape ("C" stands for "cooked," "O" stands for "overcooked"), 2 to 4 minutes depending upon their size. Stir in the parsley and lemon juice. Toss with pasta or serve with crusty bread.
• A slightly fussier step for serving with pasta: Try the following and you'll have silkier, thicker sauce.

  First, DON'T add the parsley and lemon juice yet - cooked lemon juice can get a bit weird.

  About a minute before both the shrimp and the pasta are done, ladle the pasta water into the sauce. Add the pasta and toss, continuing to cook everything over medium-low heat, about 1-2 minutes, until everything is combined and the sauce has thickened. Add parsley and lemon juice and toss to combine.

Notes:

I clearly didn’t need to simmer all my shrimp shells! Ha! You only need about a cup or so. Freeze the rest for later use or discard.

If making the shrimp wine / stock – to skim or not to skim? That is the eternal question. I did not skim, and did not notice any off flavors.

If you’ve added some pasta water, tossed everything over the heat, and your sauce still looks watery, you might not have simmered off enough wine, or you may have more dilute pasta water (I tend to cook my pasta in as small a pot and as little water as possible). I would suggest you stop cooking, as if you keep going, you’ll overcook the shrimp and that would be sad. Sauce with starch in it also tends to thicken a bit more as it cools, so try to let it rest for a few minutes and it should get thicker.

I cooked one pound of linguine for the above quantity of scampi, and think it was a bit too much. In the future I would probably serve this with about 3/4 of a pound of dried pasta. I also should have added more parsley!

“A minute before the shrimp and the pasta are done”??! How on earth am I supposed to make this happen at the same time?? Yes, I know. The best food is often slightly annoying to make, but that doesn’t mean we should strive for mediocrity! You’ll see in my pictures that my shrimp are a bit overcooked – oops. I try to buy large or jumbo sized shrimp – they usually have a bit more wiggle room when you overcook them. But ultimately, if you want to serve shrimp scampi with pasta, the best way to get all that delicious liquid to adhere to the pasta (and why would you waste even a drop of that magical, buttery, garlicky goodness?) is to toss the hot pasta with the hot sauce immediately, so you’ll have to do some brain calculations to try to finish cooking both at the same time. But in the end – just do the best you can – it will be okay if one or the other is a tad bit overcooked, and nobody is judging you on a weeknight. I would recommend you err on the side of finishing the pasta first – you can drain it, keep it on the side, reserve some pasta water, and wait for the shrimp to be juuuuust about done, then toss everything together. It will be great!

Or, you can just serve the scampi with crusty bread.

Made this? Have some feedback? Let me know! Leave a comment below, or tag #trialbyfryer on Instagram!

Can I tell you a secret? I am shocked by how many variations of pan-seared or baked salmon there are out there – salmon is so easy to cook. Who are these people who are like, let’s make it harder by adding a mustard white wine sauce, a honey glaze, a pecan maple crust? I kid, somewhat – I know these enhancements are likely delicious, but when I think salmon, I think dinner-on-the-table-in-20 minutes. James and I eat bare, unadorned seared salmon, seasoned with only salt and pepper, sometimes with a splash of lemon, probably twice a month or so. We don’t even buy any special salmon – just whatever is in the seafood counter at our local supermarket, and after sizzling in some olive oil, it is absolutely delicious.

As a side note, I know some people get nervous about cooking fish, but I find searing salmon much more relaxing than steak (one minute too long = tough!! unchewable! Ahh!!) or chicken (too little fat = more likely to stick and burn). I buy regular farm-raised salmon, and – environmental and ethical quandaries of aquaculture aside (ugh, why can’t we have nice things…) – it is really quite a forgiving fish due to its high fat content. Even if you overcook it a bit, it still has good flavor and won’t get tough and chewy like steak tends to. If you remain unconvinced, however, here is more information than I can ever provide on searing salmon. One important tip is to get salmon with the skin on – it will insulate the fish while it’s cooking so the meat doesn’t get tough, and is also just delicious (like the texture of crispy chicken skin) when seared properly. Yum!

In the same vein, I’d also like to extol the virtues of storebought pesto. No, it will not be better than the homemade variety with fresh basil. But it also doesn’t take 20 minutes and / or a food processor to make, and it will still be delicious for a weeknight dinner! Especially if you splurge out and can buy fresh pasta – you won’t even notice you’re using store pesto. I always have dried pasta in my pantry, and whenever I’m looking for an easy carb side, I pick up some pesto. I try to look for one that has basil as the primary ingredient, as opposed to canola or sunflower oil. You can also always punch up the flavor by adding some chopped fresh basil.

And, because no dinner is complete without vegetables (one of my dinner MUSTS. I NEED vegetables), nothing beats simple sautéed kale. This time, James tossed in some GINGER in addition to the garlic we normally use. Not lying – I was doubtful, and afraid that the ginger would overpower the kale. However, the sweetness of the kale played off the ginger beautifully, and the ginger really elevated the dish from boring kale to absolutely transcendent, transformed kale! I have a feeling I’m going to do a post dedicated to ginger and all the things we’ve been adding it to…

So there you have it. Easy salmon + easy pasta + easy vegetable = filling, nutritious, healthy dinner. Why make life harder than it has to be?

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Pan-Seared Salmon with Pesto Pasta and Gingery Sautéed Kale

Ingredients

For the Salmon

• Salmon fillets with skin that are about 6-8 ounces each (however many servings you want, just make sure they are all about the same size)
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• Olive oil

For easy storebought pesto pasta

• Pasta, either dried or fresh
• Storebought pesto

For gingery sautéed kale

• 2-3 cloves garlic, peeled and coarsely chopped
• 1 tablespoon coarsely chopped ginger
• 1 bunch kale
• Salt and black pepper
• Olive or canola oil

Instructions

• Put a large pot of water on to boil for the pasta. Salt water liberally - at least a tablespoon or more of salt.

  For dried pasta: most dried varieties cook in about 10-13 minutes, so I recommend you wait for the water to boil and put the pasta in to cook just before you start cooking the salmon. Make sure you give the pasta a stir every once in a while, though, especially at the beginning of cooking, so that it doesn’t all stick together.

  For fresh pasta: this cooks much quicker, so if using fresh pasta, I actually recommend you finish cooking the salmon and the kale before cooking the pasta. The salmon will be fine resting a bit, and the kale will still stay warm through the quick pasta cooking time.
• Food Prep. Prep the kale, washing the leaves and discarding the tough, hardy stems. Tear leaves with your fingers into large pieces about the size of your palm, or roughly chop with a knife. Cut salmon into equally-sized fillets of about 6-8 ounces each, if necessary. Pat salmon fillets dry with a paper towel – dry salmon sears better than wet salmon, and is also less prone to sticking to the pan. Season with salt and black pepper on the side without skin.
• When pasta water has boiled, add pasta. Continue to boil the pasta, stirring occasionally so the pasta doesn't stick.
• Cook the salmon. Heat about 1 tablespoon of oil in a 12-inch skillet over medium-high heat. When the oil is hot and shimmering, put in the salmon fillets, skin side down. Try not to crowd them to get a good sear. Cook for 6-7 minutes. Don’t move the salmon once you’ve put it down! Pushing it about risks tearing the flesh and interfering with that nice sear you want. The salmon will be ready to flip once the flesh on the side turns from a fleshy pink to a lighter, opaque white about ¾ of the way up the sides of the thickest part of the fillet.
• Cook the kale. While the salmon is cooking, cook the kale. Heat 1-2 tablespoons of olive or canola oil over medium-high heat in a large saucepan or wok. When oil is hot, add garlic and ginger and cook for about 1 minute, or until fragrant. Add kale and about a quarter cup of water, and season with salt and pepper. Cover and cook, stirring occasionally. Add more water if you notice the bottom of the pan looking dry. The kale is done in about five minutes, when it turns a deep, vivid green and is tender to the bite. Remove from heat while you get everything else ready, but don't cover the pan - the steam will overcook the kale and make it soggy and sad.
• Back to the salmon. When the salmon is ready, flip salmon and cook for an additional 2-3 minutes. Salmon is done when it flakes easily. You can test for this by pressing down gently in the middle of a fillet (turn it back around first so that you’re poking the flesh and not the skin!) or by prodding it with a fork or paring knife to see if it flakes. You can also test the temperature in the thickest part of the fillet with a meat thermometer - it should read 120°F (49°C) for medium-rare, or 130°F (54°C) for medium. James and I tend to prefer salmon cooked to medium-rare or medium – that is, it’s still a bit translucent pink in the middle, like the appearance of medium rare steak. This is totally okay and I encourage you to try it – the resulting salmon is utterly tender and melt in your mouth. However, if you prefer your fish more well done, cook it for a bit longer to desired doneness. 
• Drain pasta and toss immediately with lots of pesto sauce.
• Serve each salmon fillet with a dollop of pasta and a dollop of kale and revel in all your free time!

Notes:

Please don’t be intimidated by the number of steps! There are a lot of tips and recommendations written in the recipe that aren’t really action items.

That being said, there is a potential panic moment where you may still be stirring the kale, but the timer has gone off to flip the salmon! Panic! Don’t worry. Kale is a hardy enough vegetable that it doesn’t overcook easily. Even overcooked kale still retains a bit of chewiness and structure, and doesn’t become mushy like, say, spinach. So – breathe – cover your kale, go and flip the salmon, and when you’re done, uncover the kale and give it a toss to mix together any overcooked bits with undercooked bits, and it’ll be perfect.

Room temperature salmon fillets will cook more evenly and sear better (crispier, crunchier skin) than cold fillets. I’ve cooked salmon fillets straight from the fridge with little problem (I am lazy and don’t always remember), but if you have the foresight, take the fillets out of the fridge about 15-20 minutes before cooking to let them come to room temperature.

Jackie, why does your kale pot look so small in the pictures? This is a classic case of “do as I say, not as I do.” I hate washing big pots, but desire LOTS of vegetables. I reconcile these two not reconcilable statements by stuffing too many vegetables in too small a pot. This risks resulting in many bad things: burning the vegetables or aromatics on the bottom because you’re unable to stir properly, overcooking the vegetables on the bottom, undercooking the vegetables on the top, spilling the vegetables everywhere when you try to stir. If you’re feeling lazy, brave, and foolish, try it! Even if any and all of the above happens, you’ve still got a pan of vegetables, and vegetables are delicious. If, however, you’ll do as I say and not as I do, try to find a pot that will be only about ¾ full once you add all the vegetables. This will allow for more air circulation so that vegetables will cook more evenly, and will also allow you to stir the vegetables more easily, which also results in more evenly cooked vegetables. In the end, life is choices, and so you do you.

You could also serve the salmon with any variety of easy carb or vegetable – basmati rice, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes (will take about an hour to cook but are totally hands off after they go in the oven), roasted vegetables, steamed vegetables, sautéed vegetables… endless variations on a very simple, very delicious theme!

Made this? Have some feedback? Let me know! Leave a comment below, or tag #trialbyfryer on Instagram!