I found this recipe in the Plain Dealer recently and thought I would try it. It is really so good. Some of you - who may or may not be my children - might think you won't like it because of the eggplant, but, really, give it a try. We found it to be especially good as a vegetarian dinner on a rainy November evening. It was not as good when I re-heated it for a side dish, but I think it might have been because the vegetables lost their freshly-roasted flavor and texture.
Rotini with Smoky Eggplant and Red Pepper Sauce
makes 4 servings
1 large eggplant, cut in half
3 red bell peppers, cored, seeded and cut into quarters
8 oz. rotini
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley
2 Tbps. lemon juice
1 clove garlic, minced
salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
Preheat broiler. Place eggplant halves, cut side down, in the center of the broiler pan. With a small sharp knife, prick through the skin of each half in several places. Arrange the peppers, cut side down, around the eggplant. Broil the vegetables until the pepper skins have blackened, about 20 minutes. Transfer the peppers to a plate and cover with plastic wrap. Set aside for 10 minutes to loosen the skins. Return the eggplant to the broiler and cook until the skin has blackened and the flesh is completely softened, about another 10 minutes.
While the vegetables broil, cook the rotini in lightly salted water, according to package directions. In a large, bowl, combine the olive oil, parsley, lemon juice and garlic. When the eggplant is done, let it cool slightly, then use a large spoon to scrape the flesh from the skin onto a cutting board. Don't worry if the eggplant is "seedy". Chop the flesh to a chunky consistency and tranfer to the bowl with the olive oil mixture. Stir well.
Peel and discard the blackened skin from the cooled red peppers. Coarsely chop the peppers and add them to the eggplant mixture. Drain the pasta, add it to the sauce and toss thoroughly to coat. Season with salt and pepper. Enjoy!
Showing posts with label eating healthy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eating healthy. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
spinach... it's not just for Popeye anymore
All right, I know. The rest of the civilized world has been enjoying the taste and health benefits of spinach for some time now, but it's just hard for me to learn to eat cooked vegetables. When I was growing up, all the cooked vegetables that came to our dinner table started out as frozen bricks in the freezer with "Birdseye" on their labels. The spinach (served weekly with a particularly awful homemade macaroni-and-cheese that had nothing to do with creamy) was one of the worst. The texture was incredibly slimy, exactly like the seaweed that wraps around your ankles when you walk in the surf. As I well remember, if you let the spinach get stone-cold sitting on your plate, it doesn't smell as bad, but it does make you gag when you try to eat it. So, cooked spinach has been verboten for me for a long time.
We do occasionally eat spinach in salads, but we find that we cannot finish a whole bag of it before it starts to go bad, unless Julie is home, and then she eats most of it. I have had a lot of success adding spinach to different recipes. We really like it mixed in with couscous, and I have added it to a variety of homemade soups. It is really good in fried rice, as well. The fact of the matter is, it pretty much disappears in these dishes, and that is what makes it palatable to me. I had some cooked spinach at a restaurant last week, however, that was so good that I am on a mission to replicate it at home.
When Ben and I were finally able to go out to dinner to celebrate his birthday (that's a whole other story) we went to Mangiamo in Twin Lakes, where we frequently like to eat on special occasions. Here is the link: http://www.mangiamotwinlakes.com/ (Again, sorry that I don't know how to pretty that up.) Anyway. We have eaten there many times since they opened, but I think I had the best meal ever there last week. In keeping with my healthy eating regimen, I ordered the "Pan-roasted Atlantic Salmon", which you will see if you check the menu. My dinner included lobster-chive risotto and crispy baby spinach with balsamic drizzle.
My meal was delicious. As I said, probably the best I've ever had there. Here's the thing, though: every component was perfect, even the spinach. It was like crisp little pieces of parchment that dissolved on my tongue. The familiar spinach flavor was negligible, and the balsamic drizzle was the perfect accent. I resolved to make spinach just like it at home.
When we went grocery-shopping, the bags of baby spinach were buy-one-get-one-free, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity for experimentation. I checked on line for recipes for "crispy spinach", and I found quite a few, actually. The bad news was that they uniformly called for the spinach to be deep-fried. Now, I have never owned a deep fryer, and have no desire to have one now. Here's where the experimentation comes in.
Using one of the bags of spinach I spread it out in a thin layer over two cookie sheets. (There was too much spinach for one sheet.) I drizzled enough extra virgin olive oil over the spinach to coat it all, and also to prevent it from sticking to the cookie sheet as it dried out. I tossed the spinach with my hands to make sure it was coated, then sprinkled it with sea salt and freshly-ground pepper. I put it in a pre-heated 400 degree oven, and I watched it carefully. It wilted pretty quickly, but I could see that it still held a lot of water, and I wanted to drive that all out. When I noticed that a couple of spinach leaves had turned brown (as if they had burned) I removed the spinach from the oven. I drizzled the spinach with balsamic vinegar, and Ben and I ate every bit of it - a whole bag of spinach.
I have to say that the "recipe" is not perfected. I think the next time maybe I would keep it in the oven longer at a lower temperature since the object as I see it is to dehydrate the spinach as much as possible. If you have any suggestions, please don't hesitate to send them along.
Who knows? Maybe I'll be eating asparagus next... Na-a-ah!
We do occasionally eat spinach in salads, but we find that we cannot finish a whole bag of it before it starts to go bad, unless Julie is home, and then she eats most of it. I have had a lot of success adding spinach to different recipes. We really like it mixed in with couscous, and I have added it to a variety of homemade soups. It is really good in fried rice, as well. The fact of the matter is, it pretty much disappears in these dishes, and that is what makes it palatable to me. I had some cooked spinach at a restaurant last week, however, that was so good that I am on a mission to replicate it at home.
When Ben and I were finally able to go out to dinner to celebrate his birthday (that's a whole other story) we went to Mangiamo in Twin Lakes, where we frequently like to eat on special occasions. Here is the link: http://www.mangiamotwinlakes.com/ (Again, sorry that I don't know how to pretty that up.) Anyway. We have eaten there many times since they opened, but I think I had the best meal ever there last week. In keeping with my healthy eating regimen, I ordered the "Pan-roasted Atlantic Salmon", which you will see if you check the menu. My dinner included lobster-chive risotto and crispy baby spinach with balsamic drizzle.
My meal was delicious. As I said, probably the best I've ever had there. Here's the thing, though: every component was perfect, even the spinach. It was like crisp little pieces of parchment that dissolved on my tongue. The familiar spinach flavor was negligible, and the balsamic drizzle was the perfect accent. I resolved to make spinach just like it at home.
When we went grocery-shopping, the bags of baby spinach were buy-one-get-one-free, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity for experimentation. I checked on line for recipes for "crispy spinach", and I found quite a few, actually. The bad news was that they uniformly called for the spinach to be deep-fried. Now, I have never owned a deep fryer, and have no desire to have one now. Here's where the experimentation comes in.
Using one of the bags of spinach I spread it out in a thin layer over two cookie sheets. (There was too much spinach for one sheet.) I drizzled enough extra virgin olive oil over the spinach to coat it all, and also to prevent it from sticking to the cookie sheet as it dried out. I tossed the spinach with my hands to make sure it was coated, then sprinkled it with sea salt and freshly-ground pepper. I put it in a pre-heated 400 degree oven, and I watched it carefully. It wilted pretty quickly, but I could see that it still held a lot of water, and I wanted to drive that all out. When I noticed that a couple of spinach leaves had turned brown (as if they had burned) I removed the spinach from the oven. I drizzled the spinach with balsamic vinegar, and Ben and I ate every bit of it - a whole bag of spinach.
I have to say that the "recipe" is not perfected. I think the next time maybe I would keep it in the oven longer at a lower temperature since the object as I see it is to dehydrate the spinach as much as possible. If you have any suggestions, please don't hesitate to send them along.
Who knows? Maybe I'll be eating asparagus next... Na-a-ah!
Saturday, August 4, 2007
a slice of cantaloupe on a summer day
It's easy to eat healthier this time of year, what with all the local fruits and vegetables available at the grocery store. I had a taste for melon today, so while we were shopping, I picked out a cantaloupe. I'm not very good at picking out cantaloupes. I know that there should not be any obvious bruises and that the melon should be heavy for its size and have a nice hollow sound when you thump it. They all sound hollow. I always sniff the blossom end for a nice cantaloup-y fragrance, but I never smell anything. I do my best.
Since just the two of us are at home now, it will be hard to eat the cantaloupe while it is still fresh. I cut it in two and wrapped half of it to store in the basement fridge. I usually cut the other half into quarters, then cut the skin off so that I have ready-to-eat slices. It's convenient that way, but I think the slices get slimy faster, so I decided to leave the skin on each quarter. The cantaloupe had an appealing, fresh smell and I thought to eat a piece right then. I spooned out a bite and tasted it. Melon-y and delicious. But, something was missing. I lightly sprinkled salt across the slice and tasted it again. Perfect.
As I do every time I eat a cantaloupe, I thought of my Grandpa Bulat. I thought of a summer day when I was a small child at my grandparent's house. My grandpa had come in the house from working outside (he was always working outside) and my grandma handed him a bowl with a freshly-sliced section of cantaloupe in it. He sat down next to me at the kitchen table, lightly salted the cantaloupe, dug his spoon into it, and ate it with the greatest satisfaction and relish. He was not making a show of it for me - he was not that kind of grandpa. He was enjoying his food - every bite of it. I watched him as he ate, and I knew nothing had ever looked more delicious than that melon as my grandfather ate it.
My mother couldn't understand why, for years after that, I insisted on salting my cantaloupe before I would eat it. "It doesn't need salt," she would say, "it's fine the way it is." "But this is how Grandpa Bulat eats it," was always my reply. I always remember my grandpa when I eat cantaloupe, and nothing would make me happier than for you to remember him, too.
Since just the two of us are at home now, it will be hard to eat the cantaloupe while it is still fresh. I cut it in two and wrapped half of it to store in the basement fridge. I usually cut the other half into quarters, then cut the skin off so that I have ready-to-eat slices. It's convenient that way, but I think the slices get slimy faster, so I decided to leave the skin on each quarter. The cantaloupe had an appealing, fresh smell and I thought to eat a piece right then. I spooned out a bite and tasted it. Melon-y and delicious. But, something was missing. I lightly sprinkled salt across the slice and tasted it again. Perfect.
As I do every time I eat a cantaloupe, I thought of my Grandpa Bulat. I thought of a summer day when I was a small child at my grandparent's house. My grandpa had come in the house from working outside (he was always working outside) and my grandma handed him a bowl with a freshly-sliced section of cantaloupe in it. He sat down next to me at the kitchen table, lightly salted the cantaloupe, dug his spoon into it, and ate it with the greatest satisfaction and relish. He was not making a show of it for me - he was not that kind of grandpa. He was enjoying his food - every bite of it. I watched him as he ate, and I knew nothing had ever looked more delicious than that melon as my grandfather ate it.
My mother couldn't understand why, for years after that, I insisted on salting my cantaloupe before I would eat it. "It doesn't need salt," she would say, "it's fine the way it is." "But this is how Grandpa Bulat eats it," was always my reply. I always remember my grandpa when I eat cantaloupe, and nothing would make me happier than for you to remember him, too.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
begin the way you mean to go
Well, here we go. The first day of a new month. The first day I have been home by myself. (Jules went back to Maryland yesterday.) Time to get started on the new, improved Anne. I am not a big fan of platitudes - I guess the choice of that particular word tells you that - but sometimes they are just so darn apt. I do think it helps to start out in a new and positive way, and that is what I hope to do.
To that end, I got up before Ben left for work this morning. I had a cup of coffee with fat-free milk and Splenda. I really wasn't hungry, so no solid food yet, but I am seriously thinking about some V8 and cottage cheese real soon here. After my shower, Rufus and I went out for a ten-minute walk. It was already too hot at 9:00 in the morning, but that's August for you. He is such a good little walker, and kept looking over his shoulder at me as if to say, "Are we doing a good job, mommy? Is this O.K.?" He is more used to Julie taking him every day, but I think he will get used to me. When we got back home, big drinks of water for me and Rufus, and some attention and treats for Lucie, who must be left behind due to health concerns. (Does it sound like I am doing it right, Jules?)
I am usually pretty secretive about starting a new health regimen - for fear I will immediately fail, I guess - but this time, I will try putting it out here for all to see. Wish me luck.
To that end, I got up before Ben left for work this morning. I had a cup of coffee with fat-free milk and Splenda. I really wasn't hungry, so no solid food yet, but I am seriously thinking about some V8 and cottage cheese real soon here. After my shower, Rufus and I went out for a ten-minute walk. It was already too hot at 9:00 in the morning, but that's August for you. He is such a good little walker, and kept looking over his shoulder at me as if to say, "Are we doing a good job, mommy? Is this O.K.?" He is more used to Julie taking him every day, but I think he will get used to me. When we got back home, big drinks of water for me and Rufus, and some attention and treats for Lucie, who must be left behind due to health concerns. (Does it sound like I am doing it right, Jules?)
I am usually pretty secretive about starting a new health regimen - for fear I will immediately fail, I guess - but this time, I will try putting it out here for all to see. Wish me luck.
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