Warm potato salad
Potato salad might be the perfect transitional food: It’s reminiscent of the BBQs and long summer days that we’re leaving behind, but as we head towards fall, what’s more comforting than a bowl of starchy goodness?
Phew. I am in the thick of this motherhood in a pandemic thing, y’all. (While also trying to be okay with what we have [in-person school half of the time; outdoor, distanced playdates], and what we don’t [travel, grandparents without preplanning, sports, activities]. I was about to actually start this blog post asking, “from where is our worth derived?” And then I said to myself: GET A GRIP BECCA, THIS IS JUST A FUCKING FOOD BLOG.
One thing I’m really missing, and I think we can all relate to this somewhat, is that sense of having discreet portions of the day. I blame the pandemic, the world being both literally and figuratively on fire, and being home all the time, but having a 5.5 month old baby who is, thus far, schedule resistant, also doesn’t help.
Whatever the cause, I miss those few downbeat moments every day where you could switch from one mode to the next. Now I feel like I’m never able to focus on one thing completely. I can’t just test a recipe or take some photos. Instead, I’m doing that while comforting a crying baby and finding a very specific episode of Paw Patrol on the DVR and getting some water and searching for a missing Lego and nursing and and and.
On the flip side, I find myself not tuning in to my kids entirely either, which makes me really upset with myself and this fucking situation we’re in. I think that fear, anger, resentment, and frustration makes it hard for me to find the bandwidth for a really involved pretend game or art project or science experiment. But that sucks for my kids because they aren’t responsible for the pandemic. But I’m also human and I can’t be the perfect mom all day, every day. * PRIMAL SCREEEEAAAAAMMMMM *
But anyway, time marches on and suddenly summer has turned into fall. I don’t know what we did with the warm months. Did they even happen? Who knows.
We did celebrate summer produce thanks to our prolific cucumber, zucchini, and basil plants AND our favorite farm stand. Now that fall is bearing down on us, there’s nothing like a meal to mark the changing of the seasons and this potato salad is the culinary equivalent of a light jacket: A nod to both warm and cold, casual and cozy.
While potato salad might seem relegated to side-dishery, I topped this with a runny egg for an unexpectedly fab breakfast. Try it!
Warm potato salad
Time: About 15-20 minutes, mostly active
Yield: about 3-3.5 cups of salad
1½ lbs small potatoes (new, fingerling, red, etc; cut any larger ones so that most pieces are about the same size)
¼ cup mayonnaise or Greek yogurt
3 Tbsp dijon mustard
¼ cup chopped red onion (about 1 thick slice from a medium or small onion)
2 Tbsp finely chopped chives
1/4-1/2 tsp kosher salt
¼ tsp smoked paprika
Dash of red wine vinegar or 1 tsp of chopped capers
Microwave the washed potatoes in a glass bowl covered with plastic wrap on high for 10 minutes. Or cover the potatoes with cold water until they’re just submerged. Heat over a high flame until boiling. Boil, lowering the flame slightly to avoid the water boiling over, until fork tender, about 12-14 minutes.
While the potatoes are cooking, combine the rest of the ingredients in a large bowl and mix well.
Once the potatoes are fork tender, add them to the mixture and stir to combine. Taste and adjust seasoning as needed.
Chicken burgers with pub cheese
These easy, fast chicken burgers are packed with flavor and ready in under 30 minutes. They’re what I cook on nights when it’s suddenly dinnertime, everyone’s hangry, and I need a quick, crowd-pleasing meal.
Guess what?! Change is hard! I sent my little off to Kindergarten on Monday (we’re on a hybrid schedule so he’s in school one week and at home the next) and then wandered around my house for 5 hours like I’d never been here before. (And he went back to Pre-K for almost two months this summer, so I don’t know why it felt so weird!)
That happens to me any time I go through a big transition. The edges suddenly feel a little fuzzy and I temporarily forget how to negotiate my day. It’s no wonder my kid struggles with change too.
How do you deal with change? Is there something that anchors you when the seas get rough? For me, it’s cooking. When I feel off kilter, I need to cook something. It focuses my mind, forces me to think about the present, and following a recipe is really helpful when I just want someone to tell me what to do.
So, here is a fab recipe for chicken burgers. If you’re feeling strange as this new school year starts, I’ll be the grown up telling you, “Make these for dinner. Here’s how.” Problem solved.
A couple of notes:
The heat of the skillet is important. A good sear on both sides and then covering the pan and letting the meat steam as it cooks seals in the juices as well as cooking the meat pretty fast.
I try not to handle the raw meat mixture too much; the more you mix the meat, cheese, and spices, the tougher and more rubbery it can get.
DO NOT, I REPEAT: DO NOT use another bowl to mix these ingredients. Use the container that the ground chicken came in. Save a dish.
Chicken burgers
Time: 25 minutes, mostly active
Yield: 4 burgers
1 lb ground dark meat chicken (I like to use leg meat)
1 tsp garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
1 tsp fine sea salt
½ tsp cumin
½ tsp coriander
pepper to taste
¼ cup pub cheese
2 Tbsp olive oil
Sprinkle the seasonings and plop the cheese onto the ground chicken in the package. Using your hands, mix thoroughly, but try not to over mix. I like to make sure that there aren’t any pockets of dry spices, but if there are still blobs of cheese, that’s fine.
Heat a skillet over a medium high flame. Add the olive oil and heat until the oil slips easily around the pan. Add patties with ¼ of the mixture in each one, trying to shape them into rough circles.
Get a good sear on one side. If the pan is hot enough, this should take about 3 minutes. Flip and sear on the other side, 3 more minutes.
Turn the flame to low and cover the skillet. Cook until the burgers are firm and have reached an internal temperature of 165, about 10-12 minutes.
Tomatillo gazpacho
Make the most of summer produce with a tangy gazpacho that manages to be both light and surprisingly hearty.
The calendar has turned to September, friends. Most years I’m desperate for the fall to come. I’d be happy if it was sweater weather and apple season all year round.
But this year I sort of wish I could freeze time (but also, skip over the next bit entirely). We still have a week before Kindergarten starts for M, which means, I’m not yet worrying about an email from the school saying that someone has Covid. And Z is at the perfect baby stage where he’s sleeping more, crying less (sort of), and has a personality, but isn't yet mobile.
I hate this instinct of mine to imagine that whatever is coming will be bad. Or that if I imagine all the possible bads, that I can stop them from coming. What is that? Did I inherit some DNA from great great great great-grandmother Esther who escaped the pogroms?
Anyway, I’ve been dealing with all this dread by eating gobfulls of not-great food. I’m not even trying to food shame myself. I don’t think anyone would classify my current eating regimen as “balanced.” And I’m certainly not eating only things that taste absolutely delicious. I’m eating for the sole purpose of thinking about something other than my fears. It’s not great, Dan.
Consequently, I’m trying to come up with meals that are a little more veg-heavy while still being fun and tasty and most importantly, simple. Because, though I’m cooking and eating to stop myself from worrying, I’m also deeply committed to worrying and thus, don’t want to take too much time away from the task of imagining any and all worst-case-scenarios. You know, in case I CAN stop them from happening with my imagination.
So, this gazpacho. I used to hate gazpacho. As Lisa Simpson described, it’s tomato soup served ice cold. But when it’s good, it’s oh so much more than that. Our favorite farmstand had tons of beautiful tomatillos, so I bought some and threw them into the toaster oven (but you can obviously use a real oven too) and then threw them into the soup. The rest is really your standard Spanish gazpacho with none of the American faff that we often add. Think veggies at their peak, aromatics, salt, vinegar, and lots of olive oil.
I also realized that, while straining is a pain and you end up throwing out a lot of stuff that you could otherwise eat, it also makes the texture SO MUCH BETTER. So now I strain even though it’s a pain. But you certainly don’t have to. It saves time and this recipe yields a lot more soup when it includes the tougher stuff.
A couple of notes:
Please don’t reduce the oil content in this soup. It gives the dish its body and staying power. Without it, you might as well open a can of V8.
Tomatillos are a little sour and as such, give another dimension to the soup. But you can absolutely skip them and use all tomatoes.
Start with 1/2 tsp of kosher salt. I’ve found that this soup can easily taste too salty if you go overboard.
Tomatillo Gazpacho
Yield: about 3.5 cups (depending on how juicy your veggies are)
Time: 25 minutes, all active (less if you choose not to strain the soup)
¼ lb tomatillos, husks removed, rinsed of the sticky residue, and halved
1¾ lb heirloom, plum, or other red tomatoes
1 small cucumber, peeled and roughly chopped
1 small zucchini, roughly chopped
3 large scallions, green and white parts roughly chopped
2 Tbsp red wine vinegar
1/2-1 tsp fine sea salt
½ cup olive oil
Preheat the oven or toaster oven to 350. On a parchment or foil covered baking sheet, place the halved tomatillos face down. Bake for 5-7 minutes or until the tomatillos have softened a bit, but aren’t completely mushy.
While the tomatillos are cooking, roughly chop the rest of the vegetables.
Add the tomatillos, tomatoes, cucumber, zucchini, scallions, vinegar, and salt to your blender and blend on high for 2 minutes.
While the blender runs, add the olive oil in a slow stream until it’s completely incorporated, about 2 more minutes.
Strain the soup through a fine mesh sieve.
Test for seasoning and add more salt or vinegar if needed.
Chill for 2 hours or up to 1 week.