Lemon Yogurt Pancakes

Every year over the holidays my mom and I watch The Sound of Music and, subsequently, get the songs stuck in our heads for weeks. I always enjoyed the scene where Maria calmed the children by singing about her favorite things, but I have to admit, my lyrics would be a heck of a lot different than whiskers on kittens and cream colored ponies:
 
“Thin New York pizza and dry apple cider
Custard-filled cream puffs and wine by the fire…”
 
Ok, Tristan said I have to stop before everyone knows that I'm a dork. But if I were allowed to continue, I would certainly work savory pancakes in there. Zucchini, sweet corn, green pea, you name it. But the love ends at the standard buttermilk flapjack. I like the idea of ordering a piping hot stack but they're just too starchy and inevitably leave me feeling 10 pounds heavier.
 
That said, I recently had an inexplicable hankering for sweet pancakes, and my cravings don't go away until they're satisfied. To avoid the infamous flour-induced coma, I decided to make a version using yogurt, lemon zest and whipped egg whites. The result? Seriously fluffy, light-as-a-feather, uncommonly good pancakes.

The key here is separating the egg yolks from the whites. You could easily skip this step (simply mix whole eggs into the yogurt) but you'd be missing out on some incredible texture. Folding in whipped egg whites produces a batter that's impossibly airy and delicate. 

Requiring only 7 tablespoons of flour per batch, these lemony little cakes will simultaneously satisfy your pancake craving and perpetuate it.

Lemon Yogurt Pancakes
A lighter version of the American breakfast classic, these are made with yogurt instead of milk and a bit of lemon zest for freshness.
 
Makes 14 3-inch pancakes
 
1 cup plain yogurt (I use organic whole milk yogurt)
2 large eggs, divided
Zest of one lemon
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
7 tablespoons all purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
 
In a medium bowl, whisk together the yogurt, egg yolks, lemon zest and vanilla. In a small bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, baking soda and salt. Add the dry ingredients to the wet and stir until just combined (do not over-mix).
 
Using an electric mixer beat the egg whites on high speed until stiff peaks form. Gently fold the egg whites into the batter, being careful to retain as much air as possible.
 
Heat a cast iron skillet or griddle over medium-low heat (err on the side of lower heat to avoid burnt outsides and raw middles). Add enough melted butter to lightly coat the bottom of the pan - you can do this by brushing, swirling or, as I do, running the end of a stick of butter over the pan's surface. Pour in the batter in scant 1/4-cup-fulls. Cook for 2-3 minutes or until bubbles appear on the surface. Flip carefully and cook another 1-2 minutes. Repeat with remaining batter.
 
Serve in a stack with butter, yogurt and real maple syrup.

Butternut Squash Risotto

I teach monthly cooking classes for clients at work. Many are kitchen neophytes so my lessons tend to cover the basics and include straightforward recipes that require minimal effort. Last week, in a holiday-themed class, we discussed how to handle a butternut squash (peeling, cutting, cleaning and roasting) and since I had a demo squash left over, I was determined to make dinner out of it.
 
I wanted a dish where the squash would remain king, and then I remembered Ina Garten's Saffron Butternut Squash Risotto (yet another episode I saw at the gym while planning dinner on the treadmill). In all honestly, I'm not what you would consider a winter squash aficionado. I cook it and I eat it but it doesn't have a spot on my favorite foods list... at least not until it's paired with gnocchi, ravioli or a creamy risotto.
 
This particular risotto managed to knock my socks off. It balances the sweet, savory and creamy components perfectly, and with seared scallops on top, it may actually qualify as one of my favorite meals.

  
Butternut Squash Risotto
While this risotto is a meal in itself, I highly recommend topping each serving with a few seared scallops. The two flavors and textures are a match made in heaven. Adapted from an Ina Garten recipe.

1 medium butternut squash (about 2 pounds)
Olive oil
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
3 ounces pancetta, finely diced
2 tablespoons butter, divided
1 large shallot, minced
1 1/2 cups Arborio rice
1 cup dry white wine
4-6 cups chicken broth
1/2 teaspoon saffron threads
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat oven to 400°F.
 
Peel the squash, halve lengthwise, remove the seeds with a spoon and cut it into 3/4-inch cubes (about 6 cups). Place the diced squash on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and drizzle with olive oil (about 2 tablespoons), a few good pinches of kosher salt and some black pepper. Toss well and spread in a single layer. Transfer to the oven and bake for 30-40 minutes, tossing once, until the squash is very tender. Remove and set aside.
 
Meanwhile, heat the chicken broth in a small saucepan. Cover and keep hot over low heat.
 
In a large pot, heat the pancetta over medium-low heat for about 8 minutes or until most of the fat has rendered and the pancetta is beginning to crisp. Add 1 tablespoon of butter and the shallots; cook for 5 more minutes or until the shallots are translucent. Add the rice and stir to coat the grains with butter. Pour in the wine and cook, stirring frequently, until the liquid is absorbed, about 4 minutes. Add two ladles of stock, the saffron, 1/2 a teaspoon of salt and a few good grinds of black pepper. Simmer, stirring frequently, until the broth is absorbed, about 6 minutes. Continue adding stock, two ladles at a time, stirring frequently, waiting each time for the liquid to be absorbed before adding more. Continue this process until the rice is cooked through but still a touch al dente, about 30 minutes. Add the butternut squash, Parmesan and a splash more stock, if needed. Toss in the remaining tablespoon of butter, stir well and taste for seasoning. Serve immediately.

Caraway Cabbage with Pasta

If you’re looking for a quick and delicious meal that also happens to be pretty darn healthy, have I got something for you.

This is an Eastern European-style dish that my mom made pretty frequently when we were growing up. I used to love standing at the stove taking in the smell of onions sautéing in butter. And then, along with the shredded cabbage, she’d add the secret ingredient: caraway seeds. Don't even think about making this dish without them. It would be like rye bread without its signature flavor - preposterous! Besides, if my mom found a way to get kids to happily devour cabbage, I wouldn’t mess with a good thing.

From start to finish this only takes about 15 minutes. I’m not normally a pusher of 20 minute meals – that niche has been filled to capacity – but it’s nice to have a few quick dishes in your arsenal for busy nights.

I like to eat my Caraway Cabbage with Pasta on its own but it also tastes fabulous topped with Parmesan cheese or a dollop of sour cream. And, if you need meat or are serving this as a main course, a little crispy pancetta or bacon would push this into the ridiculous category (just cook 4 ounces of diced bacon/pancetta in a skillet over medium heat until crisp; remove, continue with the recipe as written and then add it back in at the end along with the pasta).

I can’t believe it took me this long to make such a beloved childhood dish. Glad it’s back. 

Caraway Cabbage with Pasta
A simple and very satisfying peasant dish. It easily stands on its own but would accompany a braised brisket or pan seared pork chop beautifully. Leftovers taste great with a fried egg on top.

Serves 4 as a side dish, 2-3 as a main course

3 tablespoons butter
1/2 medium onion, thinly sliced
1 small head green cabbage, thinly shredded (5-6 cups total)
Salt and pepper to taste
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
8 ounces dry pasta (my mom always used bowtie but any shape will do)

Set a large pot of salted water on to boil.

In a large skillet, melt the butter over medium heat. Add the onions and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the shredded cabbage, a few good pinches of salt, freshly ground black pepper and the caraway seeds. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the cabbage is tender, 8-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta in the salted water until al dente; drain. When the cabbage is tender, add the cooked pasta and toss well. Taste for salt and adjust seasonings if necessary. Serve and watch it disappear.

Cappuccinos without the Machine

Living in America’s coffee Mecca presents temptation at every corner. On my walk to work alone I pass three flagship roasters, each trying to lure me in with the rich aromas of their proprietary blends. While I’m a big fan of delicious things, I resist the urge to give in to a four-dollar-a-day habit and instead, leave my coffee splurges for the weekend.

Tristan and I talk frequently about buying an espresso machine but until a Lavazza appears on my counter top, I found a simple way to create luxurious cappuccinos without one. And if you have a French press and either an immersion blender or an old-fashioned whisk, you can too.

Simply brew your favorite coffee in a French press while slowly heating a bit of milk in a saucepan. When the milk is hot but not boiling (little bubbles should appear around the edges), blend with an immersion blender until a thick layer of foam appears on top. No immersion blender? Grab a whisk and whisk the milk in a back-and-forth motion for a similar effect (the foam won’t be quite as thick and dense but delightful nonetheless). Fill your favorite mug one third full with freshly brewed coffee, another third with hot milk and then top it off with a thick layer of creamy foam. And since we eat with our eyes first, a fresh grating of nutmeg or cinnamon tops it off beautifully.

This is the type of drink that requires savoring. It’s simple enough to make everyday and luxurious enough to make every day feel special.

Italian Wedding Soup

Back in my college days, I worked at a little Italian café in Upstate New York as a glorified barista. In addition to sandwiches and desserts, we proudly offered a homemade soup of the day, and when it was Italian Wedding, people went bananas. Nothing sold out quite as fast. So you can imagine my horror the day I saw how the sausage was actually made. I walked into the back room right as one of the kitchen staff was dropping a huge block of frozen Stouffer’s meatball soup into a crock-pot. “Yes sir, we make all of our soups on site.” Oops.

But that didn’t change the fact that Italian Wedding Soup remains one of my favorites. And making it from scratch isn’t all that difficult, not to mention exponentially better.

The soup in its simplest form consists of clear broth, greens, tiny pasta and miniature meatballs that cook right in the hot liquid. Ina Garten, however, inspired me to employ a twist: bake the meatballs. Baking, unlike simmering, imparts color, and color = flavor. But that’s not all. These particular meatballs are made with ground chicken and chicken Italian sausage. The fennel flavor, characteristic of Italian sausages, adds a dimension that ground meat alone can’t. These are so juicy and savory that I would actually serve them on their own as an appetizer. 

As for greens, endive, escarole, spinach or kale are most commonly used. Since I rarely find ways of incorporating it into my cooking, I chose to make mine with escarole.

Escarole is a variety of endive whose leaves are broader and paler. It’s quite bitter, with a taste reminiscent of radicchio, and can be eaten raw, sautéed or chopped into soups. If you’re not a fan of bitter greens, you can easily make yours with spinach.

I made a huge pot of wedding soup last week and ate it for three days straight. And no, getting married is not a prerequisite.

Italian Wedding Soup
If you’re going to be eating your soup over a few days, you may want to cook the pasta separately and add a bit to each bowl before ladling in the hot soup. Otherwise, the pasta will continue absorbing broth and become quite mushy. Adapted from Barefoot Contessa.

Meatballs: 
3/4 pound ground chicken or turkey 
1/2 pound chicken Italian sausage, casings removed
2/3 cup fresh bread crumbs, about 1 large slice of good quality white sandwich bread
2 big cloves garlic, minced 
1/4 cup chopped fresh parsley 
1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan
3 tablespoons milk
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Soup:
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
1 cup diced carrots, cut into ¼-inch pieces 
3/4 cup diced celery, cut into ¼-inch pieces
12 cups chicken stock 
1/2 cup dry white wine, optional
2 cups small pasta (I used whole wheat orzo)
1 pound chopped escarole, endive or whole baby spinach

Preheat oven to 350˚F.

For the meatballs, gently combine all meatball ingredients in a large bowl. Using your hands, carefully roll 3/4- to 1-inch sized meatballs and place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. Transfer to the oven and bake for 30 minutes until they are cooked through and lightly browned. Set aside.

For the soup, heat the olive oil in a large soup pot over medium-low heat. Add the onions, carrots and celery and sauté until softened, about 6 minutes. Add the stock and wine, if using, and bring to a boil. Add the pasta and escarole/endive* and simmer until the pasta is tender, about 6 minutes. Add the meatballs and simmer for 1 minute more. Taste for salt and pepper and adjust if necessary.

Ladle soup into bowls and sprinkle with chopped parsley and grated Parmesan.

* If you opt to use spinach, wait until the last minute of cooking and add it along with the meatballs.

Shrimp Wonton Soup

If you know me at all, you probably know that I have a serious soft spot for homemade pasta. The fresher and eggier, the better. But within that category, filled pastas  are probably my favorite. I can’t imagine not ordering a plate of handmade ravioli, agnolotti or tortellini at a good Italian restaurant, or Chinese dumplings, Himalayan momos or Afghan ravioli at their respective establishments. So naturally, when it comes to soup, I’m a big fan of the wonton. 

Talley and Beryl are some of our best foodie friends and since they just got married (!!) and will be moving away in about a week (sob..), we wanted to squeeze in one last dinner party. Earlier in the week, the Thai-style Chicken Legs and Mango Slaw recipes on Smitten Kitchen caught my eye, which made choosing a main course all the easier. It also presented me with the perfect opportunity to make wonton soup, which I had been daydreaming about for over a year, as the starter course.
 
We began our dinner outside at the picnic table in the garden. Even though it was a warm, balmy evening, the hot soup somehow tasted refreshing and light. It left me wanting more, which is precisely the goal of the first course. But I also think that a large bowl with some baby bok choy would serve as a really nice main course. 

Since this soup has a delicate, clear broth, I would advise that you take the time to make your own stock. It sounds daunting but only requires dumping a few ingredients into a large pot, covering with water, and letting simmer for a couple of hours. Our neighborhood Whole Foods has a little freezer chock full of chicken, lamb and beef bones just for that purpose. Otherwise, you can always buy a package of wings or use the leftover carcass from a roasted chicken. Trust me, it’s worth it.

Shrimp Wonton Soup
The following recipe is very clean and light. If you’d like more intense flavors, feel free to add a ½ teaspoon or so of freshly grated ginger, a pinch of sugar and a few minced water chestnuts to the filling. Wontons filled with both pork and shrimp are delicious, too.

For the stock:
3 pounds chicken backs, necks, wings
6 slices ginger, each about ¼-inch thick
3-4 green onions, cleaned and cut into 1-inch pieces
10-12 cups water, enough to just cover
Salt and white pepper to taste

For the wonton soup:
1 lb raw shrimp, cleaned and deveined
1/2 teaspoon fish sauce
1/2 teaspoon sesame oil
1 1/2 teaspoons rice vinegar or dry sherry
Pinch of salt
Good pinch of white pepper
1 tablespoon chopped chives, plus more for garnish if desired
2 tablespoons freshly chopped cilantro, plus more for garnish if desired
1 teaspoon corn starch
1 package wonton wrappers (you’ll need between 30 and 45 wrappers)
6 cups stock
Toasted sesame oil to taste

Place the bones, ginger and green onions into a large stock pot. Add enough water to just cover. Bring to a boil, skim off the gunk that floats to the top, and reduce the heat to low. Cover and simmer for about 2 hours. Season with salt and white pepper to taste.
 
Note: I was greedy and added too much water, which left me with a weaker broth. This can be remedied by simply boiling the stock, uncovered, until it reduces down a bit.

Rinse the shrimp under cold water and pat dry; chop them coarsely and transfer to a medium bowl. Add the fish sauce, sesame oil, salt, pepper, chives, cilantro and corn starch; toss well and let marinate in the refrigerator for about an hour.

  






There are numerous ways to form the wontons. Regardless of your chosen method, you will only want to place a slightly rounded teaspoon of filling in the middle of each wrapper, then wet your finger with water and run it around the wrapper edges. From here you can fold as desired. 

Here's how I folded most of mine 

And here are a few other ideas

Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Add the wontons and simmer, stirring occasionally, until they are cooked through and float to the top (the shrimp will turn pink/opaque), about 4 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer wontons to serving bowls. Ladle hot broth over the top; garnish with chives and/or cilantro and a drizzle of toasted sesame oil. Serve hot.