If you’ve been feeling blah about the official arrival of fall this week, I have a lovely and easy recipe to make you feel every shade of happy about the shift of seasons and the new produce it brings.

{Related: Never sure what’s in season when? Grab my free seasonal produce calendar right this minute!}

Today’s recipe is a simple dish of noodles dressed in a peanut sauce, and tossed with garlicky kale and sautéed mushrooms.

Continue reading »

This is one of those recipes I’m super excited to have added to my repertoire: it’s very (very) easy, it can be whipped up from 100% pantry ingredients, and once it’s on the table it tastes and feels like a much more sophisticated dish, the kind that makes you sigh with pride and content and say, “We eat pretty well around here, don’t we?”

It started out as the 20-minute fish curry in Meera Sodha’s excellent book, Made in India, Cooked in Britain, which I own in its British edition and have used multiple times with great success. Her original recipe is for an Indian-style curry without the coconut milk, but after several iterations in my kitchen it has taken on Southeast Asian flavors (lemongrass, basil or cilantro, lime juice) that make it a little bit Thai as well.

An amazingly easy fish curry

I apologize to purists of either cuisine in advance, but the result is a fine curry, richly favorful and clean-tasting, that does really well on its own or served over rice. My current preference goes to this sticky rice, which I throw into the rice cooker Maxence talked me into buying despite my reluctance (rice cooks just fine in a regular pan on the stove! we don’t need a specialized appliance!), and I now love and cherish (perfect rice! every time! no need to watch or time or anything!).

Since settling on this wonderful fish curry formula, I now make sure I keep on hand a can of coconut milk, a jar of whole peeled tomatoes, and fish fillets in the freezer at all times (the spices, onions, and fresh ginger I always have around), and I throw the curry together almost on a weekly basis. Although I’ve only made it for our family meals so far, it is without a doubt a company-worthy dish, one you could even pull off for a weeknight dinner party, possibly followed by this vanilla-roasted pineapple.

Join the conversation!

What’s the most recent addition to your roster of easy, weeknight-friendly recipes? We all need more of those so please share!

Continue reading »

Because summers in Japan are hot and humid, Japanese cooks know a thing or two about the refreshing dishes such sultry days call for.

Gomadofu falls into that category: a concoction of sesame paste cooked with a thickening agent until set, it resembles tofu in color and texture, hence the name (goma = sesame), and is served chilled.

I first came across it when Maxence and I traveled to Japan last spring, and stayed overnight at a temple in Koya-san. There we were served a shojin ryori dinner, the vegan cuisine that is practiced by Zen Buddhist monks in Japan*, and one of the many little dishes brought to us was a shallow cup of gomadofu, silky on the tongue and richly flavorful.

I hadn’t really thought to make it myself until I found this post on Maki’s ever-helpful Japanese food blog. Her recipe seemed so easy, I couldn’t not try it.

I already had sesame paste on hand — mine is a Middle-Eastern-style tahini I buy at the organic store — so all I needed to get was some kudzu powder, a starch drawn from a Japanese vine, which is not hard to find if you have access to a natural foods store or a Japanese market.

I made my first batch following Maki’s recipe, to deliciously rewarding results. All you do, really, is combine the sesame paste with kudzu powder and water, heat it up to thicken, then chill to set.

On a later occasion, I used a couple of tips I got from another inspiring Japanese food blog I frequent, called Tess’s Japanese Kitchen. I steeped some kombu (a type of seaweed) in the water first, and added a little sake for flavor, but both of these steps are optional.

All in all, very little exertion is required to create your very own sesame “tofu,” which you’ll then divide into cubes and serve cold, as an appetizer or as part of a light meal, typically pairing it with soy sauce, wasabi, and freshly grated ginger, or the homemade sauce Tess suggests.

I myself like it with yuzukosho (a yuzu and pepper condiment) and a little seaweed — strips of torn nori or, as pictured above, a sprinkle of freshwater seaweed from Jugetsudo in Paris — in addition to soy sauce.

Having made the original sesame version a few times now, I am planning to branch out and make amondodofu with almond butter and kashudofu with cashew butter**.

Don’t forget to read Maki’s post and Tess’s post; they both offer interesting info on gomadofu.

* If you’d like to learn more about shojin ryori, Maki recommends a book called The Enlightened Kitchen, by Mari Fujii.

** Not official names; I’ve just made them up.

Continue reading »

Yogurt Cake is a staple of French home baking: it is very easy to make and I have yet to meet someone who doesn’t like it.

What’s notable about the method is that it calls for two (half-cup) tubs of yogurt, and you then use the empty tubs to measure out the rest of the ingredients. This no-scale recipe is a rare exception to the French usage, in which quantities are measured by weight rather than volume.

It is very popular with kids, who love a simple, moist and fluffy cake. But what they particularly enjoy is that they can make it almost entirely on their own, perched on a kitchen stool. There is no complicated step, no scale to fiddle with, and with the intensive sandbox training they have, they are usually experts at the emptying and filling of small-sized containers.

The basic gâteau au yaourt recipe lends itself to a lot of great variations. You can add citrus juice, zest, or peel for a delicious lemon or orange cake, you can add chocolate chips or nuts to the batter, you can slice the baked cake in two and spread a layer of jam in the middle, you can frost the cake with a chocolate frosting… Whatever strikes your fancy.

I especially like this variation, in which I fold raspberries (fresh or frozen) into the batter, and substitute almond flour for part of the flour. The berries bring delightful tart notes, and the almond flour make the cake even moister.

We typically have this as an afternoon treat, but it is such a subtly sweet cake, it would be perfect for breakfast or brunch as well.

Continue reading »