BBQtease

I have a friend I'll call Casey, whose family participates in barbeque competitions. I mean serious, Kansas City Barbeque Society-sanctioned events. This girl is seriously into her 'que and she's got mad skills. I was expecting an oversized Weber grill and maybe a smoker box when I met Casey for the first time and boy was I surprised to see a custom-made grill/smoker on wheels with its own license plate. This beast is road-worthy my friends!

One bite of her ribs and I was hooked. Spicy, sweet sauce coating tender rib meat that pulls (not falls) from the bone. This gal is turning out ridiculously amazing barbeque - pulled pork, chicken thighs and ribs, while her husband makes a mean brisket and burnt ends. I am humbled by their talent and more than a little envious.

So it was a thrill when Casey mentioned that she was interested in starting an all girls barbeque team and asked if I had any interest. (Never mind that I'm a little past the "girl" stage, we'll call it an all female barbeque team.) I jumped at the chance and offered to help any way I could. We brainstormed names for the team. There's something about barbeque that lends itself very easily to innuendo. I think it's that giggly pre-teen kid in all of us that surfaces from time to time. How else would you explain team names like "C Mor Butts" or "Smokin' Thighs & Tasty Butts?" We settled on "BBQtease," as in "bar - bah - cuties." Seemed like a catchy name for an all female team while still tame enough to put on a tee shirt!

The hard part was finding a date that would work with my hectic business travel schedule. After some research and tweaking of the calendar, we're making our debut at the Apple & BBQ Cook-Off in Hart, Michigan on September 7 & 8. http://www.applebbqfestival.com/

I helped earlier this summer at one of the events Casey's family team was competing in. My initial observations were that competitive barbeque is not an inexpensive pursuit. To turn in six perfect rib bones to the judges table, you've got to prep multiple racks of ribs. Add in the entry fees, cost of other ingredients and time invested and you've got yourself a pricey hobby!

It's also physically demanding, requiring near constant attention to the fire and smoke for a day and a half. The team takes shifts overnight in watching the smoker and monitoring the temperature. Many teams sleep on cots and in hammocks outside. By the end of the day, everyone is sleep deprived, overheated and more than likely sunburned. These people 'que for love of the sport, not for money or accolades.

I'm intrigued by it all and looking forward to our first full-fledged competition. Still in the learning phase, I'm looking forward to soaking up as much knowledge and experience as I can get. We'll be Tweeting as @BBQtease so be sure to follow our progress on Twitter. And thankfully, we've got a cabin nearby with beds and a full bathroom for this one. We are ladies after all!

Back in Black

Well that's a huge fat lie because not only am I not wearing black today, but I never really left. Yes my travel schedule at work skyrocketed. And keeping up with the foodie website/blog I created with HPL two years ago took more of my time away from KitchenJuJu. In addition a few months ago we were asked to write a monthly column in our city's local magazine. Flattering? Yes. Time consuming and slightly stressful? Yes, though admittedly the stress is entirely self-imposed. But I've been wanting to get back into the swing of writing here...so here goes.

Recently HPL and I made the decision to significantly decrease our intake of animal products. Mostly meat, but we're watching our eggs and dairy as well. Now don't panic and think we've gone all dirty-hippie-vegan on you. I can assure you that will never happen; we simply love meat and cheese too damn much. But we've become more aware of factory farming practices and we're questioning where our meat comes from, how the chickens that lay the eggs are housed and what kind of conditions the dairy cows live in. Hmmmm... reading makes me wonder if we are becoming dirty hippies? We do drive a Prius after all...

In any case, we're choosing to not eat meat Mondays through Fridays, saving it for the weekends, which really makes it more of a treat. Something to be savored and eaten leisurely instead of wolfed down while typing with one hand at the office. Now this isn't a foolproof system by any means. I had fish and chicken (oh my) during a recent business trip to LA. HPL will occasionally wander off the reservation mid-week if he's having lunch out with co-workers. Sometimes there's some leftovers from the weekend that need to be incorporated into a weekday lunch. But for the most part, we are not eating meat during the week.

When we do incorporate meat into a meal, it's the good stuff. From a local butcher shop, the farmers market or once in a great while just the organic stuff from the grocery store. We're also buying most of our eggs and dairy from the farmers market as well. We're there once or twice week (depending on my travel schedule) anyways so it's easy to just buy eggs, cheese, bread  and milk there too.

Yes - it costs more. And it's slightly more time consuming because you can't get everything you need at the farmers market (spices, yogurt, puff pastry and toilet paper come to mind.) But we're getting to know our local farmers and it's making us more conscientious consumers. I figure I vote with my dollars and I'm enjoying voting for my local farmers as opposed to the big box stores and fast-food chains.

We've been eating this way for a little over one month. One of the foods I've been learning to cook with is tofu. I dabbled with vegetarianism in college and I remember way too many meals with undercooked lentils and boring cubes of plain tofu. Ugh. Reluctantly I decided to give tofu a second chance. It started with a recipe for a broccoli cashew terriyaki stir-fry from Dreena Burton's 2007 cookbook eat, drink & be vegan. (I have no idea how the hell a vegan cookbook found it's way into my collection. But it's got some fab recipes in it.) We enjoyed the stir-fry immensely and I tweaked it a bit to turn into a veggie version of crispy orange beef sans the beef. It's easy, quick and so satisfying. Serve it over brown rice and savor the rich juices that seep into the rice. Yum!

Marinate the tofu: This step transforms the tofu from blah to delish. Do not skip this step. Cube 1 package extra firm tofu and marinate for 10 minutes or more in 2 tbsp tamari and 2 tbsp rice wine vinegar. I use a big bowl and gently stir the cubes around a little to help the marinade coat each cube. And I've let it marinate for close to an hour, giving me time to prep the veggies, pack lunches for the next day and fold a load of laundry.

Make the teriyaki sauce: Don't let this list of ingredients scare you away - this is a million times better than any teriyaki sauce from a bottle. Whisk 1/2 cup tamari, a splash of water, 3 tbsp agave nectar or honey (admittedly honey is not vegan), 2 tbsp orange juice, 1 1/2 tbsp toasted sesame oil, 1 1/2 tbsp molasses (you can tinker with this and use less honey and more molasses, etc.), 3 minced garlic cloves, 2 1/2 tbsp grated ginger (don't even think of substituting the ground spice) and 1 tbsp cornstarch. you can let this sit too, but be sure to stir it one last time before you add it below as the cornstarch tends to settle at the bottom of the bowl. The great thing with the sauce (besides the fresh flavor) is that you can tailor it to your tastes. Make it less sweet with more agave. Make it more tangy with more rice vinegar. Add more garlic. Grate a little onion into it.

Time to stir-fry: Heat 1 tbsp grapeseed oil in your wok pan on high heat and once the oil is almost smoking hot, add your tofu (don't add any remaining marinade - you want a stir-fry not soup). Saute for a few minutes til the cubes are slightly brown. Remove the tofu from the pan, turn the heat to medium and add 4 cups of broccoli florets and a splash of water. You might want to add another tbsp of grapeseed oil here depending on how the bottom of the pan is looking. Cover and cook for 2-3 minutes until the broccoli is bright green. Add 2 cups of sliced bell pepper. I like the contrast of red and orange peppers with the broccoli, but use whatever you want. Saute the peppers for two minutes and turn the heat to high, adding in the terriyaki sauce. Once the sauce begins to bubble, add the tofu back in and stir to combine. Remove from the heat and sprinkle with lots of sliced green onions (the recipe calls for 1/2 a cup, but I use nearly a full cup because I love the crunch) and roasted peanuts. Serve immediately with rice.

Give it a try and feel free to change some of the flavors and the veg up a little. I think my next version might have cauliflower florets, sliced green beans and red peppers with walnuts. I do love summer in the Midwest -- lots of veggie choices. Happy eating!

Traveller's Blues and Unstuffed Cabbage

It's that time of year again...still a little bit winter, not yet spring but getting close. I'm chomping at the bit to grill out and make lots of salads, but the chill in the air is telling me to make stews, braises and hearty soups. One day I'm craving meat and the next I want to "eat clean" at every meal. When you add in a crazy travel schedule, a boatload of overtime and my recent inability to really stock the pantry thoroughly, you can see that meal planning can get a little chaotic (or even psychotic?) this time of year. I would like a website where I could go plan a menu, send the recipes to my Google calendar, forward the grocery list to Meijer Express and pick it up the next day. Could someone invent that please?

The other day I was trapped with 50+ other grumpy people at the Memphis airport while Delta slowly tortured us. Our aircraft had multiple mechanical issues and my one hour layover turned into nearly six hours. At the Memphis airport. Where they have an Elvis impersonator on duty (I'm not kidding) but they don't have a wine bar.

To kill the time, I did crossword puzzles, answered some work emails, Facebooked a lot of pissy rants and created a Twitter account (@KitchenJuJu). I also planned out a quick menu for the coming week. I needed tried and true dishes, ones I've made so often that I have the ingredients memorized.

Obviously macaroni and cheese was at the top of the list. I could make several variations of it in my sleep so that was an easy choice. I decided on roasted poblano mac 'n cheese for Monday. I knew we had leftover chili in the freezer so I added chili topped with jalepeno cornbread for the end of the week knowing I could make it in advance and HPL could pop it in the oven after work. I love walking in from the long commute to the smell of dinner in the oven. Lovely!

I was trying to think of a mid-week dinner and I suddenly remembered the "unstuffed cabbage" dish I used to make a couple times a month. Originally I got the recipe from some women's magazine and over the years I fiddled with it, adjusting it to suit our tastes. Once we moved back to Michigan in the late 90's, I stopped making it for some reason. As I looked out the airport window into the cold rainy weather hovering over Memphis, it just seemed like a great March supper. It's extremely easy to make (I was tempted to write "easy as pie" but I never considered pie especially easy to make) and has all the flavor and comfort of long-simmered cabbage rolls. Your fingers will thank you as you don't have to play around with scorching hot leaves of parboiled cabbage.

I planned out a few more meals, jotted down a quick grocery list and emailed it to HPL, who readily agreed to grab them before picking me up at the airport. Amen for technology! After a more than a few false starts, we were boarded on a new plane and I made it home safe and sound. The unexpected delay forced us to cancel dinner plans with friends that evening (a much anticipated 10-course tasting meal with Ivy and JoJo!) so we stayed in and order Chinese delivery. I know the kitchen was just stocked up and at the very least, I could have made sandwiches, but I was exhausted. What is it about sitting in an airport all day that completely drains you?

The unstuffed cabbage was a hit tonight and I've decided to put it back into rotation in our household. Give it a try and tell me what you think!

In a very large skillet with high sides, brown 3/4 lb ground beef (I used sirloin, but in the past I've used turkey and pork), breaking up into small chunks as it browns. Add two small diced onions, three grated carrots and three stalks thinly sliced celery and saute with meat until they begin to brown a bit. Squeeze in a good schmear of tomato paste; I like the sundried tomato paste in a tube. Once the pan gets a bit dry and the veggies are almost sticking to the pan, deglaze the pan with a generous splash of broth, white wine or even cider vinegar. Scrape all the good bits off the bottom of the skillet and add half a thinly sliced or thick shredded green cabbage. Dump in 28 ounces of diced tomatoes and juices, a tablespoon of ground thyme (you could use fresh, but I didn't have any) and a few bay leaves. Salt and pepper to taste, stir it all up and plop on the cover. Let this simmer for 15-30 minutes. You could cook it longer even, but I like my cabbage to have a scootch of crunch to it. I give it another stir and cook it for a few minutes at the end with the lid off so some of the juices cook down.

Served over brown rice, this is a filling, fast and inexpensive dinner. You could change up the veggies a bit and even add some TVP to supplement the meat. It's better as leftovers once the flavors meld in the frig. I still can't figure out why I forgot about it until I was stranded in Memphis. It's a keeper.

Black Eyed Peas and Kumquats

I made kumquat marmalade and it only took seven days! It's true.

HPL loves kumquats and has asked me to make kumquat jam, preserves or marmalade more than a few times over the last few years. Now that I'm getting back into home canning again, it seemed like a great thing to do on a sleepy Sunday afternoon. Just the thing to start off the new year. HPL ordered five pounds of kumquats right before Christmas and they arrived just before New Year's Eve. In the rush of the holidays and in the midst of a fair amount of entertaining, I made the mistake of assuming making kumquat marmalade would be just like any other marmalade. Since we had sugar, oranges and lemons on hand, I didn't even look online for an exact recipe. I figured I could chop up the kumquats on Sunday afternoon, add some sugar, lemon juice and supremed orange chunks and whip up some marmalade in no time. I was dead wrong.

Turns out boys and girls, that kumquats hold their pith at their core, unlike the citrus fruits most of us are more familiar with. You know what pith is right? It's that white papery bitter stuff that lines the inside of citrus peels. When you zest an orange, lemon or lime, they say to never zest the "white stuff". That's pith and it tastes kinda like furniture polish and gin, and not in a good way like the punch the frat houses served in college.

So kumquats are kinda "inside out" in that the peel is sweet, the fruit is sour and the white pith is a condensed stem-like vein running through it's middle. Just to add to the fun, the pith is also surrounded by bitter green seeds that cling to the fruit like crazy. Removing the pith and seeds involves cutting the kumquat in half and then carefully cutting and prying the "pith core" and seeds out. Frankly, if my words haven't conveyed it properly so far, I'll just go ahead and say it. This part of the process is a gigantic pain in the ass. Once I realized what I had unwittingly signed up for in promising HPL I would make kumquat marmalade, I began to regret it. I also began to think up excuses to get out of it. Like "I pulled a hamstring" or "My arthritis is flairing up in my right thumb" or "I'll do that thing you've always wanted me to do, but please don't make me make this marmalade."

It took me nearly two hours to tackle four pounds of kumquats. (About a pound of them were too green to use so HPL will be snacking on them with his lunches this week.) Like a good husband, HPL checked on me a few times, poured me a glass of wine and even put on the new Black Eyed Peas cd to help me pass the time. But even Fergie and Will I Am couldn't lull me out of the monotony. I stood there for what seemed like forever slicing each kumquat in half, then removing the core and half-flicking/half-pulling out the stubborn seeds. I thought I would never get through that intimidating pile of tiny orange globes. I even teared up at one point and I'm not exhaggerating.

Once I had the kumquats quartered, deseeded and de-pithed, I put them in the food processor with about two cups of sugar and processed until coursely chopped. The smell that hit my nose when I lifted the lid of the processor was heavenly with a capital "H" and three full lingering syllables. Hea-ven-ly. It was sweet and orangey, smelling good enough to eat already. Yum! That mixture went in a stockpot to reduce and the seeds and pith went into a cheesecloth bag to be rapidly boiled in water for 30 minutes. The seeds and pith produce natural pectin so I wouldn't have to add any processed boxed pectin.

By this time, I'm in need of more wine, which I guzzled in between handwashing the knives, the cutting board and the food processor. (The damn dishwasher was full and already running. Blurgh!) You can imagine that by 5 pm I was just a wee bit grumpy. The Black Eyed Peas were on their second rotation with Miss Fergie wailing away and getting on my last nerve. Why did I agree to do this again?

Once the saucepan of pectin had cooled a bit, I squeezed all the gooey juice from the cheesecloth sack that I could. This was a bit time consuming because just when I thought I got it all, from nowhere comes more goo. It looks and feels like something out of a horror movie, all slimey, slippery and gelatinous. But it's fragrant and warm and I kinda liked the idea that I was using every piece of the fruit as possible. I stirred all the gooey pectin in and let the whole mess bubble away some more, making the kitchen smell delicious.

At this point, my aching shoulders convinced me to postpone the actually processing of the marmalade. I let it cool to room temp and then dumped it in a bowl to keep in the frig for the rest of the week. And today, exactly a week later, I found myself ladeling the cold marmalade into sterilized jars, processing in the steam canner and plopping labels on them. Six jars in all, two larger tall crystal cut jelly jars, three smaller plain jars and the cutest little 6-ounce jam jar. (I have no idea what the hell I have a 6-ounce jam jar for. I must be planning to give some away to a neighborhood mouse or something?)

In retrospect, I should have done my homework and researched a few recipes in advance. I should have realized preparing four pounds of kumquats would take much more effort than say six oversized ruby red grapefruit. So while it's my own fault, honestly I feel a little bit like putting on a flight suit and hanging up a "Mission Accomplished" banner in the kitchen. Screw the pundits.

Martini Brisket

Back in my thirties, I was a martini girl. I drank Belvedere vodka martinis ("straight up, dirty with extra olives please") like they were going out of style. While all my friends ordered cosmos and Captains with Coke, I was slugging back glasses of briny liquid courage pretending I was Karen Walker from Will & Grace...sexy martini glass in hand and pithy remark at the ready.

But these days I just can't handle my martinis like I used too. I have to get up far too early and be on my "A Game" whether I'm working in the office or more often than not, travelling somewhere across the country to work with a bunch of strangers for a few days. It's basically a different city and a different group of people each week and you know what they say about only getting one chance to make a first impression? Hungover and bitchy just don't cut it. And it's really hard to keep a sincere smile at the ready when it feels like there's a high school marching band practicing (badly) in my head. These days the night starts with sparkling water and maybe, if I'm lucky there's two glasses of wine with dinner. In fact, I think the last martini I had was in March to celebrate the successful end of a major project. I had a 6 am flight home the next day and that god awful marching band and I snoozed the entire flight home.

So while martinis aren't on the menu for me, I do miss the metallic taste of Belvedere and the saltiness and meatiness of the olives. I've never really found a good substitute. Imagine my excitement when I ran across a recipe for "Martini Brisket", and in Better Homes and Gardens of all places. It's easy (though not quick) to make, extremely delicious and very kind of retro chic. (There's just something a little Mad Men-esque about making this recipe I think. But what the hell do I know, I used to think Karen Walker was cool, right?)

When we decided to stay in for New Year's Eve, there were really only a few options we considered for dinner. Martini brisket was the clear winner. Since most of the cooking can be done largely unattended it gave me plenty of time for other things, like making 2011 resolutions (learn Danish, drink less, eat more veggies) while drinking too much champagne.

The brisket I came home with was about 4 inches too long for the stockpot. I need a long oval shaped Le Creuset or similar, but refuse to spend the bucks for it at this point. Honestly, when my current Le Creuset is full, I can barely lift the darn thing; I'm not sure I want to go bigger. So I trimmed off a hunk of brisket and moved along. You end up slicing the brisket and arranging over noodles, so even if company were coming over, you could still cook the brisket in two pieces and who would know? Also, this can be made in a frying pan with high sides and a tight lid.

You know I hate typing out actual recipes and giving measurements. You should really feel free to experiment with this:

Take your brisket, which you've trimmed up and removed blatantly blobby fat bits from, and rub it all over with coarse salt (I'm using this wonderful stuff our dear friend Harry brought home from Hawaii) and coarsely ground pepper. Then sear the brisket until it's GBD (golden brown delicious) on all sides. Don't get lazy here. Use your tongs to hold the brisket up and sear the skinny sides too. You're going to get three hours of play time while this baby braises in the oven, so suck it up now and sear the whole thing.

Once it's nicely browned, remove the brisket and toss in 2-3 medium onions cut in thick slices. Sprinkle in a little more salt and pepper. This is not a shy dish. Cook until the onion rings are separating and browning up a bit. Pour in a cup of beef broth and 28 ounces of tomatoes. (The recipe calls for crushed tomatoes, but I used diced for the texture.) Add a good sized glug of Worcester sauce. Once it's all bubbling, nestle the brisket into the juicy bath, pop a cover on the pan and get it into a 350-degree oven.

Now go find something to do for three hours. When it's not New Year's Eve, I open a bottle of red wine instead of champagne.

If you want to, you can pull the pan out and spoon a few juices over the top of the brisket, put the cover back on and pop her back in the oven. But it's really not necessary to do this; I guess it might make it feel like you've actually been cooking?

After three hours, remove the brisket and tent it with foil. Put the pan on a high burner and reduce the sauce down a bit. Reduce it to whatever looks good to you. There are no sauce reduction police. Turn the heat down to medium and pour in a generous shot of vodka and another of vermouth. (If you're cooking over a gas flame, this is probably the time to insert some kind of warning about keeping the vodka and vermouth away from the flame. Because it doesn't really matter how fabulous your brisket turns out if you've singed your eyebrows off. No one will be looking at the food. No one.)

Once you've carefully added the alcohols to the sauce, toss in a big handful of stuffed olives. I think the recipe calls for half a cup, but I toss in a whole jar because I love olives. Let the sauce bubble a bit and then remove it from the heat. Add a half cup of heavy cream and stir to combine.

I serve slices of the brisket over whole wheat noodles with the sauce spooned over. Roasted carrots or broccoli on the side is lovely too. Opening a second bottle of hearty red wine is pretty much mandatory.

We did discover that the smaller four-inch piece of brisket cooked up quicker than the rest of the beast. This allowed for some sampling before the main event. Kind of "pre-brisket" brisket. I may not be able to handle my martinis any more, but I can work my way around a martini brisket just fine. Pithy comments at the ready still.

Beans and Chorizo and Fregole, Oh My!

I love the gratification I feel after planning and prepping a fabulous meal. Whether it's a tailgating with dozens of friends, a small dinner party for eight or a nice weekend dinner with HPL, I am in my element. Planning the courses, shopping for the ingredients, prepping my mise en place, even choosing which serving dishes to use...it probably sounds sad, but I love the whole experience. (Why do you think I keep entertaining?)

But sometimes, there's no time for all those steps. Usually it's midweek as we're cleaning up from dinner, I'll scan the pantry and think to myself, "What the hell am I going to make for dinner tomorrow?" Or worse yet, I'll realize as I'm commuting to the office that I've forgotten to pull from the freezer the casserole I made in advance or the chicken breasts that are supposed to go on the grill. ARGH!

On those nights one of two things happen. 1) We end up pulling several cheeses out of the deli crisper and have a "wine, bread and cheese dinner." Helpful hint: it seems to go over better if you tell your spouse dinner was planned as a romantic and nostalgic nod to that trip to Italy you took a few years back as opposed to admitting that you can't even seem to keep the ingredients for a grilled cheese and tomato soup on hand. Or...2) We end up going out and eating something entirely terrible for us and washing it down with copius amounts of wine or beer. Sometimes with wine AND beer. For me, it's usually fish and chips, a hamburger or something smothered in cheese. For HPL, its usually a reuben, a burger or a Scotch egg. Bad idea on a regular basis. Bad, bad, bad.

So I have to share these two fast and easy recipes I've discovered this summer. They're delish, a bit different and make terrific leftovers, too.

The first is a quick saute of green beans and sausage and I must admit, it's lifted from a recent Martha Stewart magazine. (She has so many publications, it's hard to keep up. It's the little one with quick and healthy meals. Not her original magazine with recipes for making homemade kosher treats for your dog at Yom Kippur and not the new age hippy one with recipes for homemade fruit rollups to enjoy during yoga class. The other magazine - is it called Everyday?)

In any case, Martha's recipe called for wax beans and pre-cooked chorizo and my local store had neither. Actually, that's not true. They had wax beans, but they were already brown and wilted and I don't like to bring veggies home in such a state. That would be infringing on my crisper's job since a good deal of what I pile in the veggie crisper turns brown and wilts. So I opted for green beans and andouille sausage and improvised with those. I've made it since with peppered thick-cut bacon and green beans from the farmer's market and it was over the moon. This will be a summer staple in our household and I'm thinking it would even work with those French green beans from the freezer in winter.

Slice the sausage into half moons and saute until browned in a big skillet. Toss in the green beans and a sliced shallot. (If you don't keep shallots in your larder, use a small onion or some garlic.) Saute until the beans are just tender. Then toss in a splash of sherry vinegar. Cider vinegar would work too, but once you buy a bottle of sherry vinegar you'll wonder how you ever got along without it. Stir it all together so the vinegar coats everything and then let the vinegar simmer a bit. I serve up a huge portion of it on a white plate - its colors are gorgeous. Maybe you want to serve it with some cornbread or biscuits, but I think it's perfect as is with meaty sausage, the fresh beans and the tang of the vinegar. You've only dirtied the one big skillet and dinner is served.

The second dish is from my dear friend Karla, who introduced us to fregole, Sardinian cous cous that's deeply toasted. I was skeptical when I read the recipe, but made a batch tonight and suspect this will be another "go to" dish in our home. The most difficult part of this dish is finding the fregole. (I'm wondering if GB Russo would have it here in GR?) When you find it, buy it and buy a second bag for a friend. They will thank you.

Follow the package directions and boil the fregole til still slightly toothsome. Drain and toss the fregole with some olive oil. Mix in one chopped apple, a small handful of raisins and a generous handful of fresh mint. I read somewhere that the only way you should cut your mint is into a chiffonade. Something about chopping it any other way bruises the herb and disperses the essential oils? If the word "chiffonade" scares you off, just chop it up or tear it into pieces. Last time I checked, there are no herb police. At least no herb police that are checking on how you cut your mint.

It wasn't in the recipe, but I squirted in some grapefruit juice because I was worried the apple cubes would turn brown and I had an ancient pink grapefruit that had been lingering in the above-mentioned veggie crisper for far too long.

Let the fregole salad chill for a bit. Maybe pour a glass of wine and you chill for a bit, too. Karla says this will keep for days in the refrigerator, but we haven't been able to test that theory out yet. We just had it as a side to chicken, but it would work with pork, fish or turkey as well. I think a big spoonful of it over mixed greens would be lovely as well.

Enjoy and let me know if you try them. I'm off the hook for a night as tomorrow is HPL's night to make dinner. All I know is, it better not be wine, cheese and bread night!

This Could Change Your Life

I know, I know. It's a pretty lofty statement, but you've got to trust me on this one. I have stumbled upon a cure-all. A "magic bullet" if you will. This will alleviate stress, improve your marriage, nourish your soul, help you sleep better and keep you regular in the process. What more could you ask for?

I'm talking about bean soup made in the slow cooker, of course.

Before you roll your eyes and go back to that self-help website, give me 90 seconds and read on. I stumbled onto this recipe in the book Art of the Slow Cooker by Andrew Schloss. The last thing I need is another cookbook, let alone one on slow cooking. But Schloss' premise is that with a bit of prep work, the lowly, humble slow cooker recipe can be elevated to one you'll want to share when company's over. With recipes for lamb tagine, oxtails braised in coconut milk and osso buco Milanese, I had to buy it.

Sometimes it's as simple as browning the roast before you put it the cooker or quick sauteeing an onion with some herbs (as is the case with this recipe) to meld the flavors before assembling the ingredients for a day of slow cooking.

I've tried two soups out of the book and they have both put the FAB in fabulous. A few months ago, I made a Moroccan Red Lentil Soup that nearly made us weep from the lovely aromatics. You begin by sauteing two large chopped onions in olive oil, then add garlic and then add coriander, cumin, turmeric, paprika and cinnamon. HPL was so moved in fact, I seem to recall he paused his video game and came up the stairs to see what I was making at this point.

You add a little broth to deglaze the pan and then dump it in the slow cooker with tomatoes, lentils and a few other things. The end result is out of this world and I'll share the recipe if you want to try it at home - just leave a comment and I'll reply.

Last night we supped on recipe #2 from the book - Bean Soup Ad Infinitum. I've never been a big fan of opening a few cans and calling it dinner, but this recipe (it's got more than it's share of canned goods) changed my mind. I began prepping it at 5:30 am and in under 15 minutes had the cooker set to "slow". I arrived home at 6:30 pm, chopped some parsley and dinner was served. Stress levels were lowered, souls were nourished, the condo smelled great and there was minimal clean-up. Can I hear an "amen" please?

I went with the vegetarian version, but as the name implies, there's pretty much no limit to what you could add or vary with this recipe. I beg you -- please, please, please try this one soon. Maybe August doesn't seem like a good time for a big hot bowl of soup, but when the weather's this hot and humid, isn't your air conditioning blasting away? This soup might take the chill off!

In fact, now that I think of it, this is a truly summer time bean soup recipe. It's not as hearty, thick or meaty as the "ham bone" soup I make in the fall and winter from dried beans and one of Kingma's famous ham hocks. This is a lighter, thinner bean soup.

Heat 1 tbsp veggie, olive or grapeseed oil over medium heat. Add one chopped medium onion and 1/2 tsp dried thyme. Saute until the onion is barely tender, about 3 minutes. (I let mine get a little brown. It was early and I was absorbed in my coffee and bowl of Cherrios.)

Transfer the mixture to a 5- to 6-quart slow cooker and add one 15-oz can each of white beans, chickpeas, red kidney beans and crushed tomatoes. Be sure to rinse the beans well. Then add 4 cups of veggie broth, 2 cups of V8, 2 bay leaves and salt and pepper to taste.

Cook on high for 2 - 3 hours or on low for 4 - 8 hours. I have a slow cooker with a "keep warm" function, so my 13 hour absence was no problem.

When you're ready to eat, turn the cooker up to high and stir in one 15-oz can of vegetarian, no fat refried beans. (This is where my eyebrows shot up reading the recipe. Refried beans? Trust me, it works.) You need a whisk and some determination because the refried beans will just bob around in globs until you break them up and get it all well mixed. Let simmer on high for 15-20 minutes. I think we waited all of 5 minutes.

Stir in some chopped fresh parsley or cilantro. The recipe calls for 2 tbsp and I tripled it. I like fresh parsley.

If I had more time, caffeine and ambition, I would have added a chopped carrot and celery stalk to the onion at the beginning. Maybe even a fennel rib and some minced garlic. You could totally meat this baby up with some chopped cooked bacon or ham or a ham hock. Other suggestions Schloss makes include a can of corn, a diced peeled apple, one chipolte chili, curry powder or shredded cheddar. And of course, you can use any beans you want.

Give it a whirl and let me know. I'll just be here, changing lives one bowl of soup at a time...