Chicken with mustard cream

Best laid plans and whatnot.

I had every intention to post much more than I have so far this year. But I haven't. Sometime in March (I think, my memory of the past several months has hazed over), I suddenly came down with a massive amount of work. Which is generally good for a freelance editor/writer, but it did become a bit overwhelming when I genuinely lost track of the last time I had had a weekend off or didn't work until 11 at night (or all night in a couple of cases). I missed most of spring, although I tried very hard to pay attention to it while driving to pick up my guys from school and work. But generally I was stressed and overwhelmed. After the biggest projects had been completed, I naturally got sick.

But things have settled down a bit, and I've had some time to reflect on the last few months and recognize that I must change my life (to paraphrase Rilke). Writing, creating, reading, learning--these are the things that mean the most to me (other than family and friends, of course, but they come automatically first; perhaps too much so, I don't consciously recognize their importance as often as I ought to). That includes this blog, this thing that I started (and stopped and tripped over and left lying in a corner and then moved into the spare room and forgot about). So here's a little dish that I have cooked many times over the last few months because it's good (note the plate that has been licked clean below), it's quick, and when you're frustrated, it can be good therapy because of the pounding (see step 2).

  

Ingredients

• 1 lb (ish) chicken breast halves
• salt, lemon pepper blend
• 2 Tbsp olive oil
• 1 cup chicken stock or broth
• 1-2 tsp Dijon mustard (to taste)
• 1-2 tsp maple syrup (to taste)
• 1 cup half and half
• parsley (fresh if you've got it, but dried will be fine)

Steps

1. Place a large frying pan on the stove and turn it to medium-high heat to let it heat up. 
2. Blot the chicken breast halves with paper towels. Then place them between two sheets of wax paper. Pound them thin with the implement of your choosing. (My rolling pin is perfect for this job; you can also use a frying pan, or an actual meat tenderizing device that looks a lot like a hammer. This activity always draws lots of attention from the family, who wonder why I am making so much noise, am I angry, what did the chicken ever do to me, etc. In any case, it can be somewhat cathartic.)
3. Remove the top sheet of wax paper and sprinkle both sides of the chicken breasts liberally with salt and lemon pepper. I've been using Sunny Spain Seasoning from Penzey's Spices, which is pretty fantastic.
4. While you are hammering away, you've allowed your pan to heat up (right?), now add about 2 Tbsp olive oil to the pan and let it heat up until it shimmers. It should only take a minute or two. 
5. Place your chicken breast halves in the pan and allow them to cook for about 4 minutes per side.
6. When the chicken is cooked through, remove it from the pan and allow it to rest on a plate that is tented with aluminum foil. (Tented: Means kind of covered with the foil, but bunched up so that the foil doesn't touch the chicken.)
7. Add stock, mustard, and maple syrup to the pan. Using a whisk, scrape up the browned bits on the bottom of the pan, whisk, and allow the liquid in the pan to reduce to about half. Then add the half and half and season with more lemon pepper, salt (if needed), and parsley. Don't forget to taste it! 
8. Serve the chicken with the mustard cream and ideally with a blend of roasted potatoes and sweet potatoes that have slightly caramelized, but it's good with just about anything that will soak up the sauce (see figure of plate licked clean).

       

Salmon with leek-mustard sauce and pistachio topping

Surely it can't have escaped you by now that I love color. I go to an art supply store, and the tubes of paint and their glorious colors are as seductive as candy to a child. When I paint, I build up layer upon layer, trying to create a deep, jewel-like finish that gleams and contains mysteries, like the clear surface of a pond.

Food often seduces me with its color too. Take the Copper River sockeye salmon I got yesterday. The gleaming, translucent flesh with that beautiful pink-orange color. I wish I could paint it, or capture it in a tube. Barring that, I suppose I have to eat it. I was seduced into buying it, even though I had not originally planned to eat so much seafood this week.

 
That glorious pink-orange color pairs especially well with the pale green of leeks and pistachios. That's not why the flavors of this dish work so well (and boy do they), but it does make a pretty dish. As for flavor, how do I describe it? The mellow cream and sweet leeks temper the assertiveness of the mustard, which works especially well with the fattiness of the salmon. Then there's the crunch of the nuts to provide a little texture. It's just a glorious bite. Simply take my word for it and try it.

It's a simple dish, but attend carefully to the fish so that you don't overcook it. Watch the times.

Ingredients

• 2 8-oz fillets of Copper River sockeye salmon (you will probably get great results with any kind of salmon that's in season, but that's what was available to me)
• 2-3 Tbsps unsalted butter
• 3 leeks, cleaned,* sliced thinly
• 2 teaspoons whole-grain Dijon mustard (or more to taste)
• 1 to 1 1/2 cups heavy cream
• salt and ground white pepper
• a large handful of salted pistachios, chopped (if you have the time and inclination, toast them in a hot pan for a few minutes before chopping them)

Instructions

1. Basically any fast-cooking recipe requires that you prepare all your ingredients in advance, and this is definitely a fast-cooking recipe. (With slower foods, like soups and stews, you can keep cutting vegetables while the onions are softening or the meat is browning.) So, the first step is to prepare all your ingredients. Surprise! Bet you didn't see that coming. 
2. Liberally salt and pepper both sides of the salmon fillets. 
3. Melt butter in a pan (I used my beloved cast-iron skillet) over medium heat. Let it foam plenty and just start to brown. 
4. Place the salmon fillets in the pan, flesh side down (because they are going into a clean pan, they will look nicer that way). Let them cook without any fussing around for 3 minutes. 
5. Turn the fillets over and let them cook skin-side down for 2 minutes. Spoon some of the hot butter over the top of the fillets a few times.  
6. Remove the fillets from the pan, place them on a plate, and tent the plate with tinfoil to keep the fish warm. Set it aside for now. 
7. Add the leeks to the pan. Let them cook until they are soft, about 5-10 minutes. Do not let them burn. (Don't let anything burn, really.)
8. Add the heavy cream and the mustard to the pan. Combine the leeks, mustard, and cream. Let the cream thicken up a bit (this should only take a minute or two). Salt and pepper to taste. Taste the sauce. Add a little more mustard if you think the sauce lacks bite (but do it in small increments so you don't ruin it). Also, if you have any juices on the salmon plate, add those back into the sauce.
9. To serve, place a fillet on a plate, spoon the leek-mustard sauce over the salmon, and sprinkle the chopped pistachios over the top. Serve it with something simple like boiled potatoes or rice that you can use to absorb extra sauce.  

* Because of the way that leeks grow, they often have a lot of dirt and grit in them. To clean them properly, strip off the outer leaf or two of the leek and cut the bottom and the top off (leave about an inch of green). You will end up with a long, mostly whitish cylinder. Cut the cylinder down its entire length. Then rinse all the inside layers of the leek thoroughly under cold running water. Finally, slice the half cylinders into little half moons.

Spring pasta with salmon and sugar snap peas--and a look back on an independent year

A year ago last week was my last day as a wage slave. My plan had been to go out on my own and start a food blog and share my passion for seasonal and local food; the future was grand, rosy, exciting. After years of feeling stuck in jobs that didn't seem to appreciate all that I had to offer and were leaving all my brilliance and skills on the table, I was going to get out on my own and put all that smart and talented out there. (And I was going to get my house in order, get in shape, and about a dozen other things.)  

Well, I started a freelance career as an editor, proofreader, and writer, and I started a food blog. I quit some bad habits. I ran a lot. Some portions of my house got clean--for a while. But only now do I begin to understand how differently I need to think about my work, to plan my life, to organize my time. Only now do I realize several hundred thousand food bloggers are out there, sharing their passion, and doing it with way prettier pictures and often with far more graceful prose. Only now do I realize that, yeah, I am smart and talented, but a lot of people are smart and talented, and many are way more trained and knowledgeable than I am. Ouch.

So those were some lessons: I wasn't nearly as good and smart as I thought. I wasn't nearly as passionate about food as I thought. Finding clients wasn't so easy, especially after the funding for my first big one dried up. There are always going to be people who are more talented, more committed, less diffused over multiple priorities. Less confused really. A heck of a lot more focused and driven.  

As you can imagine, that hurt. Especially the part about not being as good and smart as I thought I was. Yeah, that stung.

But it was an honest lesson, a real lesson. I wouldn't say I am humbler now, but I am gaining some clarity and perspective. I am clearing away some imposed rules, some imposed ways of thinking, some imposed parameters for beauty. And that's good, because I get to try and start fresh, to see with new eyes, to start to remember the first look and feel and smell of creativity, what that was like, so many years ago when the block of clay first hit the table.

And all I really meant to do tonight was share a recipe for pasta with sugar snap peas and salmon, and here I am, off on this tangent. Oh well. Here's how to make the pasta. It's really good: light, fresh, pretty in green and pink, with a nice crisp crunch from the peas--everything you'd ever want in a spring pasta. So get thee to the farmer's market and find some sweet crunchy sugar snaps!  

Pasta with salmon and sugar snap peas

• 12 oz. salmon fillets (whatever's in season, or wildcaught frozen and defrosted)
• 1 lb pasta (I used rombi in this recipe)
• 2 Tbsp unsalted butter
• 1 Tbsp finely chopped shallots
• 3 spring onions, green tops removed, sliced thinly
• 2 cups sugar snap peas, ends and strings removed
• juice from a half lemon
• 1 cup heavy cream
• 1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
• salt, pepper, dried thyme

1. Cook the pasta according to package instructions. (Start boiling the pasta about the same time you start the fish so they finish at the same time.)
2. Rinse the salmon fillets in cold water, dry them with paper towels, and salt and pepper them. Prepare your produce (shallots, spring onions, and sugar snap peas).
3. Melt the butter over medium heat in a large deep pan.
4. When the butter bubbles and browns slightly, place the salmon fillets in the pan. Sprinkle the lemon juice all over the fillets. Let them cook for 1-2 minutes, and turn them over to cook for another minute on the other side. Take them out of the pan, put them on a plate tented with foil (keeps them warm). 
5. Add the shallots and the spring onions to the pan, cook until they soften (about 2 minutes). 
6. Add the sugar snap peas to the pan, let them cook for 2 minutes. 
7. Add the heavy cream and the Dijon mustard to the pan. Let the sauce cook until it thickens (about 2 minutes). Season with salt, pepper, and thyme to taste. 
8. Add the cooked pasta to the sauce in the pan and mix it all together. Turn off the heat. 
9. Removing the skin, break the salmon into flaky pieces and mix them into the pasta.
10. Eat! Enjoy! Even my five-year old liked this:

Apple-cider braised pork with mustard

Any of you who follow my blog regularly probably know this already, but I love pork. Especially the pork the Haskins family raises locally. Fall is the perfect time of year for pork (although I won't argue with grilled spare ribs on a hot summer evening; heck I won't argue with pork anytime really--just gimme).

Fall fruits and vegetables like apples, pears, squash, and cabbages go beautifully with pork: a little sweet-sour sets off rich fattiness so well (or maybe that's fatty richness?).

Anyway, I was wrestling (as usual) with what to make for dinner tonight earlier today, and I remembered I had a nice piece of pork shoulder (also known as pork butt) left from a recent CSA-share pickup. The idea of a little pork with some apple cider syrup and mustard in a low-slow braise started simmering. One thought led to another, and I threw together a quick braising liquid and let the pork cook over low heat all day long, which was especially nice as the rain came in with colder air. Is fall finally really here? It doesn't seem to want to make up its mind.

Although it takes hours to make, this dish is one of the easiest things you can imagine. Just combine the ingredients in a Dutch oven, set it on the stove, and leave it alone. All day. If you are so inclined, you could flip the meat over at some point, maybe pour some of the liquid over the top of it a few times. You know, just to stir things up a bit. Or maybe to grab a quick taste of the braising liquid, make sure you added enough salt. That kind of thing.   

Here's the recipe:

• 1 4-5 lb piece of pork shoulder
• 4 Tbsp apple cider syrup (if you don't have this, replace the syrup and the water with 1 cup of fresh apple cider)
• 1 cup water
• 1 onion, halved and sliced
• 4-5 garlic cloves, peeled
• 2 Tbsp Dijon mustard 
• 2 Tbsp soy sauce
• 2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
• salt
• pepper
• smoked paprika (optional, but it's good)

1. Place pork shoulder in the Dutch oven, season (very liberally) with salt, pepper, and paprika
2. Place onion slices and garlic cloves around the pork
3. Mix apple cider syrup, water, mustard, soy sauce, and apple cider vinegar in a bowl and put it in the Dutch oven with the meat, onions, and garlic cloves
4. Bring the liquid up to a boil on high heat, then cover the Dutch oven and lower the temperature to the lowest setting on your stove
5. Let it cook over slow heat for 4-5 hours; check on it from time to time (mostly to waft lovely smells into your kitchen). When the meat starts sliding off the bone, it's done.

I served the braised pork (which came out tender and rich) with some red cabbage sauteed with apples and apple cider vinegar. The contrast of salty and fatty with the sharpness of the vinegar was lovely. I think I might use some of the leftover meat to make quesadillas tomorrow.... Or, maybe I could heat up some leftover meat and braising liquid and serve it over some homemade mashed potatoes. Mmm. Now that sounds good. Heck, you could drizzle the braising liquid over some toast and call it a day.