Welcome Back!

It’s been a while… but I’m back! I’ve been eating and cooking some pretty yummy things over the past 18 months, and figured it’s high time to hop back on the blogging bandwagon. I’ll try to update this blog with restaurant critiques, culinary finds, and other gastronomic musings. 

French Onion Bread Pudding

I know I’ve been writing a lot of sweet entries as opposed to savory. The reason? Desserts always go over well. Yeah, a braised lamb shank will get you some attention, but a molten chocolate cake is always appreciated. Here at Tufts, there are a lot of vegetarians and unadventurous eaters (think Bacon Ice Cream), but everyone loves desserts. After all, why do you think BAKE sales are so popular? Who knew that clearing one’s conscience only takes a $1.00 and a couple of brownies!

So with that in mind, here’s a twist on a popular dessert, Bread Pudding. I’ve had some pretty amazing bread puddings in my day, so I was eager to try out this recipe. Here are a couple of reasons to love it.

1.)    The thing is made in a casserole dish, which means easy cleanup and preparation. This is a HUGE plus when you don’t have a dishwasher (or a kitchen sink).

2.)     Carmelized Onions. Lots of them.

3.)    Since it’s based on French Onion Soup, the requisite use of cheese helps to bind it together. And who doesn’t love gooey melted cheese?

4.)    The use of grainy mustard helps to give this pudding a nice kick.

5.)    Did I mention caramelized onions?

I thought that the pudding was good; however, I still prefer bread pudding as a dessert. But if you’re looking to try something easy and different, give this a go. It tastes a lot like a quiche, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. While they say it’s an appetizer, my friends and I found the pudding to be pretty heavy and thought that it could just as easily be the main course, depending on the occasion.

French Onion Bread Pudding (adapted from The Cookworks, 2003)
Serves between 8-10 people as an appetizer, and 6 as a main course)

Ingredients

1 1/2 pounds onions (2 to 3 medium onions), thinly sliced
1 teaspoon sugar
3 teaspoons kosher salt
3 tablespoons clarified butter*
1 tablespoon sweet sherry ( I didn’t have any Sherry, so I used apple juice as a subsitute)
1 large Italian or French bread loaf, crusts removed, cut into 5 by 1-inch pieces
6 eggs
2 cups heavy cream
1 tablespoon grainy mustard
1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh thyme
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups grated Gruyere cheese

Directions

1.) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

2.) In a large skillet, saute the onions, sugar, and 1 teaspoon of the salt in the clarified butter over medium-high heat; stir constantly to prevent burning. They should go from opaque to translucent to golden brown. They should be quite soft by this point. If the heat is too high, you’re gonna end up frying the onion to crisp, so just be aware. Add sherry and stir to lift any caramelized onion on the bottom of the pan. Remove from the heat and set aside.

3.) Spread out the bread pieces evenly on a baking sheet. Place in the oven for about 5 to 8 minutes to dry the bread slightly but not to add color. Set aside to cool.

4.) Whisk together the eggs, cream, mustard, thyme, the remaining salt, and pepper. Soak the bread in the egg mixture for 5 minutes.

5.) In a casserole dish, layer the bread with the onions and cheese. Pour the remaining egg mixture over the top.

Bake for 35 minutes or until the egg mixture is set.

*About clarifying butter: Clarified butter is unsalted butter that has been slowly melted, separating the milk solids from the liquids. Milk solids are the things that foam up to the top of butter when you melt it down. Since these milk solids can burn and tarnish the taste of the butter, cooks often remove it when they decide to saute food. Do this by removing any foam/milky residue off the top of the melted butter. Clarified butter is used to cook at higher temperatures because it has a higher smoke point. If you aren’t comfortable doing this, just use olive oil, since it has a high smoke point. Butter is used for the flavor, but don’t worry about it

Kickass Cupcakes–February Happy Hour

“One day it started raining, and it didn’t quit for four months. We been through every kind of rain there is. Little bitty stingin’ rain… and big ol’ fat rain. Rain that flew in sideways. And sometimes rain even seemed to come straight up from underneath.”
-Forrest Gump

Seriously, February, are you kidding me? One full week of rain? This is Boston, not London. I’m going through socks like Kleenex thanks to these oceanic puddles.  Luckily, February is about to end. This past Monday was the last of the month. And we all know what the last Monday of the month means… free Kickass Cupcakes!

Like always, the free mini-cupcakes come in three different “cocktail-inspired” flavors, which got me makes me think of LMFAO’s magnum opus, “Shots.” In this song (assuming you can call it that), Lil Jon enumerates his favorite drinks. Surprisingly enough, his alcoholic regimen fits in line with Kickass cupcakes’ menu. Desipte his usual policy of exclusively yelling monosyllabic words, Lil Jon catalogs various drinks, such as “Lemon Drops” and “Kamikazes.” At one point, he loudly declares his affinity for “jello shots.” Cue the Strawberry Jellow Shot—a Vanilla cake with a strawberry jello shot center and whipped cream top.

When the song reaches its crescendo, Lil Jon ebulliently erupts into an expletive-laced climax—“Fuck all that shit, give me some Gin!” Cue the Chartwoozy, a Gin soaked cupcake with chartreuse frosting and lemon sugar. This was the real winner of the evening. I could pick up on the Gin, but it wasn’t overbearing. And the frosting did have hints of Chartreuse (liqueur made from brandy and aromatic herbs) and a vaguely citrusy aftertaste.

There was also a chocolate cupcake with brandied chocolate ganache center and chocolate frosting dusted with nutmeg called Chocolate Hot Toddy. This was decent, but disappointed in comparison to Kickass’ previous chocolaty efforts, such as the Brandy Alexander and the Somerville Glory.

Even though I could’ve left without buying a cupcake, I couldn’t help but get a Champagne Cupcake. I’ve made a couple of batches of champagne cupcakes in my day, so I figured this would be a good comparison. The cupcake was filled with fresh strawberry, which I actually preferred to the Jello filling of the free mini.

Rain sucks, but I’ve learned that it can be easily smothered with baked goods. Because who really needs umbrellas when you’ve got cupcakes?

Sweet Potato Gnocchi

Ah, Gnocchi: the Italy’s answer to dumplings. Literally meaning “lumps,” Gnocchi has existed as a traditional pasta dish since the days of the Roman Empire; however, the potato-base of today’s gnocchi has only existed since the 16th century. But enough with the history lesson, let’s just dive in.

As a kid, I enjoyed gnocchi, as it was a nice respite from all the inexorable servings of spaghetti. This recipe seemed to be a perfect alternative to standard pasta fare. My previous attempt with homemade pasta left a bad taste in my mouth, but that might have to do with the fact that I don’t have a pasta-maker. But gnocchi doesn’t require any special tools—just a fork and a child-like sense of wonder (if you haven’t seen “Youth in Revolt,” then you’re missing out).
Making gnocchi is a lot like playing with play dough, except that this dough tastes good. My inner child giggled with delight as I rolled out long, serpentine bits of the dough. Cooking suddenly felt like kindergarten arts and crafts.
I used the food processor to properly blend the potato and the ricotta. And the ricotta I bought barely even drained over the course of the two hours. But maybe that was just my brand, I dunno.

The Browned Butter Sage sauce paired with this gnocchi was tasty, but there was definitely far too much of it. You could easily cut the amount of butter from 2 sticks to 1 ½ and be fine. It does require a fair share of salt and pepper.
As for the gnocchi itself? Well, I think it turned out alright. The problem is that no one in my family really eats gnocchi, so I had nothing to compare it to. My mom doesn’t like gnocchi and wasn’t sure if the consistency was right, and my Dad was of no help either. They both said it was the most flavorful gnocchi they had eaten, but that doesn’t mean much from people gnocchi-player-haters.
If you’re looking for a new way to spice up pasta night, or want a different sort of side dish (this is so rich that I think that it would work better as a side or an appetizer), or want to reconnect to your inner seven-year-old, then make some of this gnocchi.

Recipe (adapted from Bon Appétit, December 2005)

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Brown Butter and Sage
Makes 10 servings (as a side or an appetizer—six or seven pieces a person)

Depending on how thick your ricotta cheese is, drain the ricotta in a sieve for two hours before starting the recipe.

Ingredients
2 1-pound red-skinned sweet potatoes (yams), rinsed, patted dry, pierced all over with fork
12 ounces fresh ricotta cheese, drained in sieve 2 hours
1 cup finely grated Parmesan cheese (about 3 ounces)
2 tablespoons (packed) golden brown sugar
2 teaspoons (for gnocchi) plus 1 ½ tablespoons salt (for boiling water)
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg
2 ½ cups (about) all purpose flour
¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) unsalted butter
5 tablespoons chopped fresh sage plus whole leaves for garnish

Preparation

1.)    Microwave on high until tender, about 5 minutes per side.
2.)    Cut in half and let cool. Scrape sweet potato flesh into large bowl and mash. Add ricotta cheese; blend well (I blended the two in a food processor to fully blend it).
3.)    Add Parmesan cheese, brown sugar, 2 teaspoons salt, and nutmeg; mash to blend. Mix in flour, about 1/2 cup at a time, until soft dough forms.
4.)    Turn dough out onto floured surface; divide into 6 equal pieces. Rolling between palms and floured work surface, form each piece into 20-inch-long rope (about 1 inch in diameter), sprinkling with flour as needed if sticky. Cut each rope into 20 pieces. Roll each piece over tines of fork to indent. Transfer to baking sheet.
5.)    Bring large pot of water to boil; add 1 ½ tablespoons salt and return to boil. Working in batches, boil gnocchi until tender, 5 to 6 minutes. Transfer gnocchi to clean rimmed baking sheet. Cool completely. DO AHEAD Can be made 4 hours ahead. Let stand at room temperature.
6.)    Melt butter in heavy large saucepan over medium-high heat. Cook until butter solids are brown and have toasty aroma, swirling pan occasionally, about 5 minutes.
7.)    Add chopped sage (mixture will bubble up). Put stove stop on simmer. Season sage butter generously with salt and pepper.
8.)    Add gnocchi to pan and sauté until gnocchi are heated through, about 6 minutes. Divide gnocchi and sauce among shallow bowls. Garnish with sage leaves.

Clementine Cake

Clementines are a fruit that you only see in December and in 5 lb packages. I don’t think I’ve ever seen clementines at the grocery store in any other month or in any other amount. My mom grew up getting clementines in her Christmas stocking; however, Santa’s never been that kind to me.
A quick background—clementines are essentially seedless tangerines—tangerines being the little brother in the Orange family. Their sweetness, thin rind, manageable size, and lack of seeds make them ideal snacks and in my opinion superior to your average orange.
I came across this recipe on Smitten Kitchen and was excited by the prospect of baking with Clementines. Since my grandma hadn’t figured out a dessert for Christmas Day, I figured this could be one of the offerings.
The cake uses the entirety of the Clementine, rind and all. Also noteworthy is the cake’s lack of butter or flour. I didn’t have a springform pan, so I improvised by lining a regular pan with parchment paper and then greasing the hell out of the bottom of it. I prayed for a Christmas miracle—that the cake would come out in one piece. For whatever reason, I ended up with more than enough batter to fill an 8 inch pan, so I made 12 cupcakes in addition to the cake.

For Ground Almonds that have considered suicide when the food processor is enuf.

If you make this recipe, make sure to grind the almonds as much as possible. My fear of over-processing the almonds to a paste left me with a coarser cake. Don’t make my mistake; you want finely ground almonds.
Other than that, the cake turned out all right. I found the cake to be tolerable at best, but some of my family members really enjoyed it. They said it was refreshing after scores of chocolate and lemon and yellow cakes. Personally, I think I’ll keep my cakes and my clementines separate but equal.

Clementine Cake
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen, who got it from Nigella Lawson

5 clementines (a little less than 1 pound)
6 eggs
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons (225 grams) sugar
2 1/3 cups (250 grams) ground almonds
1 heaping teaspoon baking powder

1½ cups of Powdered sugar for glaze

Put the clementines in a pot with cold water to cover, bring to the boil, and cook for 2 hours. Drain and, when cool, cut each clementine in half. Place clementines in processor and pulse until you have a smooth paste.

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190°C).

Butter and line an 8-inch springform pan with parchment paper. (If you don’t have a springform, use a regular pan and just line with buttered parchment paper—it worked fine that way for me)

Beat the eggs, and then add the sugar, almonds, and baking powder. Mix well, adding the clementines.

Pour the cake mixture into the prepared pan and bake for about 40 minutes, when a skewer will come out clean.

Remove from the oven and leave to cool in the pan on a rack. When the cake is cold, you can take it out of the pan and dust it with powdered sugar. Alternatively, you could make a glaze (powdered sugar and boiling water and a teensy bit of clementine juice) and drizzle it on top. Just sift sugar into a bowl and slowly add small amounts water (maybe a teaspoon or two at a time) until you get the right consistency. I did the glaze, and didn’t have a problem with that.

The cake was still moist when it was served three days later, so it holds up rather well. Just glaze it the day of.

P(r)esto!

Snow is overrated. As a kid you love it, but once you take school cancellations out of the equation, snow becomes a bit of a nuisance. So with nothing else to do, I decided to harvest Count Chocula, my basil plant, and make some pesto. With all the traveling I do over break, it just wasn’t feasible to take him with me. Seeing as I had spent all semester tending to his needs, I thought that this would make a perfect culinary capstone for the semester. So for my final dorm-cooking of the decade, I made pesto.

Note to self (and all other collegiate cooks), the cafeteria is a great place to get ingredients. I didn’t feel like buying some ingredients, so I just got them from the dining hall, Carmichael. The staff was more than willing to give me a teaspoon of white pepper from the kitchen. As for the walnuts… well, I took them from the salad bar. Technically, I don’t think that counts as stealing. At least that’s what I tell myself.
The recipe was a little too olive oily for my liking, so I’d just do it to taste if I were you. Test it after a half of a cup and add more bit by bit until you get the flavor you want. Other than that, the pesto was delish. We brought it to dinner and used it on the cafeteria pasta and pizza. Who wants a watery marinara when you’ve got fresh pesto? Our BYOP dinner couldn’t have gone any better. I used some of the leftovers for a turkey and cheese Panini. There are really no limits when it comes to pesto. Give it a go, see what you think.

Basic Pesto (Adapted From Colorado College Cookbook)
½ cup pine nuts
½ cup walnuts
1 teaspoon coarse salt
½ teaspoon ground white pepper
1 tablespoon minced garlic
3 cups of loosely packed, fresh basil leaves
4 ounces Asiago Cheese, grated
2 ounces of Parmesan Cheese, grated
1 cup Olive Oil

In food processor, pulse first 6 ingredients until finely chopped.
Then add the two cheeses, and process until smooth.
While the machine running, gradually add the olive oil “in a slow steady stream.”
Once fully blended the pesto can be kept for up to one week in a sealed jar.

Snappy Sushi

Finals suck. They are truly the bane of my existence, the academic equivalent of a dementor’s kiss. Thanks to my tests, I have been unable to cook, exercise, or have any fun this past week. My only outlet—supporting the Beelzebubs on the show NBC’s The Singoff—pales in comparison to cooking/eating, my ultimate stress-reliever. Having completed my exams, I decided to let loose a little and hit the town.

My friend Lily suggested Snappy Sushi, an offbeat sushi spot in Davis Square. Let me preface this with a confession—I’d never ordered sushi before. I know a lot of people are like addicted to sushi, but not me. It’s not that I dislike sushi; in fact, the one or two times I’ve had it I kind of enjoyed it. I figured that tonight was the night to break loose and pop my sushi cherry.

Unconventional would be the best way to describe Snappy Sushi’s rolls. Snappy features “fancy rolls,” which are made with brown—not white—rice and contain different sorts of ingredients that what one would normally see in sushi (or so I’m told). I went with the flow since I lacked any preconceived notions about what sushi should be, but I imagine that Snappy’s methods could grate the nerves of sushi purists.

Lily served as my mentor, helping me decipher the myriad of options on the menu. While they had conventional fare, I went for a few of the more avant-garde alternatives—the Boston Lobster Roll (avocado, cucumber, and green leaf rolled together, and dressed with chopped lobster meat mixed with red onion and flying fish roe) and the Newbury Fashion Roll (eel over avocado, cream cheese, cucumber, and flying fish roe).

All of my nervousness over exams melted away as I savored the rich flavor of the Lobster Roll. It was served piping hot, a Godsend given the hypothermal weather outside. Maybe this is an ignorant suggestion, but I would’ve diced the cucumber in the roll, it was a little overwhelming to get one big piece. Other than that, I had no other issues. Since it was my first time eating “real” sushi, I have nothing to compare it to. I realize that the method and ingredients may not be legit, but fidelity can be overrated.

I have an 8-page paper due on Monday concerning Deconsolidation and Democratization in Venezuela and Mexico for my Latin American Poltics class. As thoughts of Hugo Chavez, the PRI, and Rafael Caldera swim through my mind, I can’t help but smother them with thoughts of lobster sushi.

Columbus Day Cupcakery

HONK! FESTIVAL AND OKTOBERFEST
KICKASS CUPCAKES, THE UPPER CRUST, SWEET CUPCAKES

Ah, Columbus Day weekend! It makes for a nice little rest stop after a month of school and makes the cold, inexorable trudge toward Thanksgiving a little more bearable. The various towns held festivals to celebrate the holiday. Davis Square played host to the Honk! Festival on Saturday night, while Harvard Square held Oktoberfest. Why am I writing about this? Because it proved to be a rather eventful culinary expedition! So read onward, brave reader, and see what’s in store for ye! (That was my generic pirate voice, just FYI).

How many times have you seen a random street performer and wondered, “Gee, that guitarist/trombonist/accordionist is mildly good.” Well, Davis Square’s Honk! Festival brings all of those lone performers together. Each parking lot and open plaza becomes a makeshift stage for these sketchy musicians and a dance floor for the even sketchier audience. Now, I use the term “musician” rather lightly, and I mean “music” in the loosest sense of the word.
Remember the end of “Easy Rider,” when Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda finally make it to Marti Gras but drop some really bad acid? That’s kind of like what it was like walking about the insanely crowded streets of Davis that night. We walked about, aurally and visually taking in the bizarre setting. The dissonance created by this amalgamation of eccentric street performers gave Davis Square a sort of symphonic schizophrenia.

Spongebob Oily-Pants

A sense of claustrophobia began to overwhelm us, so my friends and I sought shelter in Kickass Cupcakes. My friend Rob and I both ordered deep fried cupcakes, but just like the acid in “Rider,” the cupcakes proved to be a frightening endeavor. The dish starts with a plain vanilla cupcake, dipped in batter and then deep-fried. It is served in a paper cup along with some chocolate syrup and some whipped cream. This sounds good on paper, but wasn’t. The cake was bland and the syrup tasted cheap and artifical, like Hershey’s. This was such a disappointment given the sophisticated flavors they normally offer. I mean, Kickass offers rum soaked cakes and raspberry champagne fillings! The worst part: the cupcake was fried poorly, so it was literally sopping with oil. I expected a little crispiness to the edges, but no. It was like eating a sponge. Moral to the story: never order a fried cupcake from Kickass. And, Kickass, do us all a favor and retire the fryer.

Today was Oktoberfest in Harvard Square. I’ve never seen Harvard Square so crowded! It was super-intense. While some people go for the parade, I went for the food. I was craving one of those quintessential Italian sausages, but my cohorts and I ended up getting some pizza. The Upper Crust had pizza by the slice, so we stopped by their kiosk. They had set up two industrial-size ovens, which birthed pizzas of four different varieties—Cheese, Chicken Pesto, Peppers and Mushroom, and Pepperoni. I got a slice of the Pesto Chicken and left impressed. The thick sauce was chunky from all the tomatoes. Like any true St. Louisan, I firmly believe that the thinner the crust, the better the pizza. Crust’s crust delivered, serving a pizza with a crisp thin crust that allowed the sauce and toppings to shine. After checking out their website (which enumerates their toppings, from ricotta to scallops), I’m quite sure that my search for the perfect pizza is over.

The traumatizing experience I had at Kickass on Saturday left me determined to revitalize my love for cupcakes. So to Sweet we went! Alas, they were once again out of that ever-elusive red velvet cupcake. I settled for a Molasses Ginger and a Chocolate Orange. You already know how great the Molasses Ginger is, but the Orange was new. I made some Orangettes over the summer, so I’m pretty familiar with the chocolate/citrus combination. The cake was a nice dark chocolate. Whether intended or not, there were tiny bits of chocolate in the cake, almost like chocolate chips, that I really enjoyed. The vanilla bean buttercream infused with “fresh sweet citrus flavor” was tasty, but wasn’t citrusy enough for my liking. If I wanted a chocolate cake with vanilla frosting, I’d have ordered that. But I wanted the Chocolate ORANGE cupcake! A Gran Marnier buttercream might’ve been nicer. The cake was topped with one of those candy orange slices. While it looked kind of nice, I thought it really cheapened the cupcake. I mean, I buy those fruit slices at Walgreens. It totally goes against the “Madagascan-Vanilla-Bean-Buttercream-infused-with-citrus” vibe that the rest of the cupcake gives off. I’m not a snoot, but if you’re going for sophistication, then please be consistent. Maybe some candied orange zest

On the whole, a pretty intense weekend. But I still have one day left! The blog has slowly veered into restaurant territory, but I promise to actually make something in the next post.

Best Cupcake in Harvard Square?

I was sauntering about Harvard Square last night when I encountered a tiny little shop with a rather peculiar address, Zero Brattle Street. How odd! I peered inside the shop, and suddenly my heart skipped a beat while my stomach simultaneously pirouetted. The shop, Sweet, is Harvard Square’s premier cupcakery. Well, seeing as I had just published a post on Kickass, it seemed prudent to try out Sweet’s cupcakes. I sacrifice so much for this flog!

Since they were thirty minutes from closing, many flavors were depleted. Their Red Velvet cupcake sold out four hours before my arrival, making it the most coveted cake on their menu. All the flavors appealed to me in some way. Some basic flavors included Vanilla, Dark Chocolate, Carrot (spelled Karat), and Boston Crème Pie. They also have a fall selection, which just this week replaced the summer offerings. These fall flavors seemed a bit more exciting, at least to me. Apple Pie, Chocolate Orange, Molasses Ginger, S’Mores, Pumpkin Pie, and Salted Chocolate to name a few. After much deliberation, I decided to get the Molasses Ginger, which consisted of a molasses cake and a fresh ginger buttercream, sprinkled with what looked like raw sugar.

The cost for one cupcake totaled to $3.25. Now, this is a little high. After all, they were average-sized cupcakes, not Crumbs-sized monstrosities. Was I paying for ambiance? The pink and fancy décor was more saccharine than sweet, and the large LCD TV on the wall clashed spectacularly with it all. I did greatly appreciate the spacious seating provided, a rarity at places like this. And given the location, all that space is certainly coming at a cost.

Frosting applied "DQ Style"

The molasses cake was quite dense; I thought that it could’ve been just a little lighter and moister. The strong molasses flavor stood out well. So often we limit molasses to cookies, so it was refreshing to get that flavor in something else. The ginger buttercream wasn’t particularly fluffy, but the flavor was fantastic. The ginger went well with the molasses, and the ratio of frosting to cake was perfect. I hate having to ration frosting as I eat a cupcake. This isn’t WWII, rationing is a thing of the past.

Cupcakes, like steaks, should be eaten with utensils

Now the question you’re all wondering: How did it compare to Kickass? Well, the 50 cent differential is worth acknowledging. After all, if you go with a couple other people, that amount starts to add up. Granted, Sweet has a better seating area and a bigger selection. I dunno how consistent their flavors are, I need to conduct some more “research.” If I find myself craving a cupcake, I’ll end up going to Kickass, since it’s closer. If I’m in Harvard, I’ll get one at Sweet.

First Home-cooked Meal At Tufts

Apologies for the lack of photos. I was in such a rush to serve the food that there are no good photos to show. But don’t let that fool you into thinking that the food wasn’t delicious and visually pleasing, because it totally was.

Moving back to Tufts:
Dinner Party #1:

Chilled Cucumber Avocado Soup,

Herb Encrusted Pork Tenderloin,

Strawberry Rhubarb Crisp w/Crème Anglaise

Getting adjusted to college living can be daunting. Leaving behind your friends and family is difficult, as is sharing a room and bathroom with relative strangers. That stuff is a cakewalk compared to leaving the family kitchen and battery of cooking equipment. Two Saturdays ago, my mother and I fought over what cooking gear would take the trek to Tufts for the semester. I was ready to pack up every item she had managed to accrue in her culinary career; however, she felt that certain things weren’t all that integral to my success in cooking. After much debate, she decided that I would get the second-rate set of saucepans, knives, and bowls along with some of the appliances, namely the ice cream maker and food processor. I didn’t get the blender, but the processor does a decent job. I also scored a couple of gadgets (microplane and a baster). While I would’ve loved some of the sharper knives and bigger bowls and saucepans, beggars can’t be choosers.

As you can see, my food prep station doubles as a backgammon table.

Viewing the kitchen proved to be a very sobering experience. I slowly let it all sink in, the lack of a sink, the absence of a dishwasher, the minuscule table for foodprep. The stove here is electric, which might be a bit of an adjustment, since I’ve only used gas. I can understand why the university might shy away from a gas oven. All it takes is a couple of drunk students to stupidly burn the building down. The stovetop is missing a burner, and  another one is oddly crooked. Well, at least the microwave seemed to be in tip-top shape…

My first week was quite tough, as virtually no cooking took place. I found myself viewing food blogs and old copies of Bon Appetit and Gourmet more than normal. The cafeteria food here at Tufts is perfectly serviceable, but I feel so dependent. All I do is walk up to the counter and cherry-pick from a smorgasbord of overcooked and under seasoned meats and veggies. After less than a week, I decided that I was ready to give the kitchen a test drive! My suitemates agreed to a home cooked meal our first Friday back, and I got busy planning the meal.

We would begin with a chilled cucumber avocado soup, follow it up with an herb encrusted pork tenderloin served with lemon dill rice pilaf, and end the meal with strawberry rhubarb crisp along with vanilla bean ice cream.

I should let you know that I’ve never officially hosted a dinner party before. I’ve made parts of meals for dinners, but never have I made a full meal for guests. I knew this would be tough, but I was ready for a challenge.

The action began Friday, early afternoon when I biked to the grocery store to pick up groceries. Armed with my backpack and grocery list, I began to scour the store for all my ingredients. In Julia Child’s memoir, My Life in France, she describes marketing as one of the most exciting and adventurous parts to any cooking experience. My, how the times have changed! As I searched the labyrinthine Shaw’s for my ingredients, I was amazed by how mundane it all is. I already miss the Vineyard’s farmer’s market!

Since I was serving 11 people, I figured three 1.5-pound pork tenderloins would be good. An hour and $100 later, and I had the basics for our meal! One problem—the amount of groceries I had would never fit in my pack. I played Tetris with my groceries for about 20 minutes. It must’ve been a funny sight as I biked back to campus with a bulging backpack and two bags of groceries dangling from the two handlebars.

I felt like a hyperactive child on after a long night of trick or treating as I unloaded the spoils from the many zippered compartments of my L.L. Bean “Turbo Transit Pack.”  This space issue came up again as I filled our room’s mini-refrigerator.

It was around 3:00pm (T-minus 3 hours to dinner) when I began the cooking/food prep. You already know the process to making the strawberry rhubarb, so that came up first.

After around an hour of that, I began making the herb crust for the pork tenderloin. In retrospect, the food processor would’ve been quite useful, but I ignorantly believed that myself capable of quickly chopping my herbs. HA!  My knife skills are nowhere near good enough to make short work of those damn little leaves. The fact that I was dealing with fairly dull knives didn’t help much either. Anyways, the herb crust and tenderloin was ready to go around 5:20.

The avocado cucumber soup was the last to be made and the first to be served. It also happened to be the one dish I hadn’t made before. Note to self: only make for guests that which has already been home-tested. This recipe jumped out at me from the Quick Kitchen section of Gourmet. After all, chilled soup seemed like a great way to end the summer. This soup was way too watery for my liking. Had I the chance to do it over, I would’ve used another avocado and cut the water with more butter cream. The texture didn’t work for me either, but this complaint probably has to do with the fact that the recipe also called for a blender, and I used the food processor. Anyways, I served the soup at 6:10, ten minutes after the supposed start to the dinner.

I was ready to start the pilaf when it hit me that the chicken broth I had purchased needed a can-opener. My mom had always purchased the Swanson variety that has the tab on top, but this had slipped my mind until that moment. Oopsy-Poopsy! I was in such a rush, that I decided to cut my losses and save the ingredients until a later date.

The pork had gone into the oven at 5:45 at 400ºF, which according to my estimates would take 35 minutes at most. This would’ve allowed everyone a chance to enjoy—well, more like politely pick at—the soup. Alas, the oven here in Wren isn’t correctly calibrated. Because after 40 minutes, the tenderloin was still quite pink. Now, don’t go thinking I’m one of those “I-need-my-meat-totally-burnt-beyond-all-comprehension-to-make-sure-I-don’t-die” people. No, I’m very much a medium rare kind of guy. I’m the kind of person that judges my fellow diners by their steak preference. If you so much as utter the word “well,” you might as well leave the table. After all, this animal died for you, so why go ruin it by cooking off all its juicy flavor?

Anyways, I kept worriedly checking on the tenderloins, but to no avail. The pork, unmoved by my supplications, remained uncooked. I went up once or twice to check on my “dinner guests,” but the looks on their faces reminded me of those Sally Struthers commercials featuring emaciated children in third world countries. They were hungry, and growing quite antsy. Much like the tenderloins, these dinner guests weren’t easy to placate. After about an hour and a half, the meat was a light pink, which was good enough for me. I ran up the two flights of stairs with the pork, quickly served it, then ran downstairs to get the strawberry rhubarb started.

As the crisp was cooking, I prepared a nice vanilla bean crème anglaise accompaniment. With my guests happy with the pork, I was suddenly able to breath a sight of relief. Whew! And now I was doing what I do best—dessert! The rest of the evening went on without a hitch, and I relished each passerby’s look of amazement and longing as they registered the smells emanating from the oven—thyme, basil, and olive oil emanating from the oven. When the strawberry rhubarb went in, the air was pierced with that familiar smell, and I was transported from the dingy kitchen at Tufts to the one back home.

RECIPES

Herb Encrusted Pork Loin (serves 4 college guys, which might mean 5 regular human beings)
This recipe is adapted from the Junior League of Denver’s Colorado Collage Cookbook
½ cup fine, dried breadcrumbs (panko)
1/3 cup chopped fresh basil
3TBS olive oil
3/4 TBS of fresh ground pepper
1t salt
3T Chopped Fresh thyme
2T chopped fresh parsley

1.5lbs pork tenderloin

Stir together all the ingredients (except the pork) until you get a paste. Moisten the meat by padding the tenderloin with wet hands. Press the crumb mixture over the tenderloin. Place in the oven (set to 375ºF, hopefully) on broiler pan and cook until center is 165ºF or until the meat is a pale pink in color, about 35 minutes.