Sunday dinners and simple pleasures: Seared Salmon Fillets with Dill Dijon Sauce

The Dill Dijon Sauce on this Seared Salmon Fillet tastes rich, calorific and sinful, but is in fact 100% fat free. Recipe below.

Susan over at Food Blogga recently waxed eloquent and passionate about reviving the tradition of Sunday dinners. Of course, the Sunday dinners of her childhood memories took hours to prepare, with “every Italian-American woman with any pride starting the ‘gravy’ [East coast Italian-American for tomato sauce] at breakfast to be ready for 2:00 Sunday dinner.”

Most of us just don’t have that kind of time these days—or at least the desire to devote that kind of time to a meal on a weekly basis. But Susan’s right—there really is something special about Sunday dinners. Marion and I used to host regular Sunday dinners with a rotating cast of characters. Dinner was anything from a simple pasta with red sauce to Chinese [Marion is insanely good at Chinese—her Szechuan dish Ants Climbing a Tree is legendary, both for its taste and its heat] to the biggest pot roast in the store.

Whatever the food, though, dinner also always included wide-ranging conversation, laughter and numerous bottles of wine. And at some point in the evening, Sunday dinner regular John could be counted on to lean back in his chair, make a sweeping gesture toward the stereo and say, with complete conviction and satisfaction, “This is the perfect music for a Sunday evening.” It didn’t matter if it was Mozart on the turntable or Ella Fitzgerald singing Cole Porter tunes or Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys or Coleman Hawkins’ muscular tenor sax. Whatever it was, John always proclaimed the music to be perfect. And somehow, he was always right.

But things change. People move. The Sunday dinners fell by the wayside. Sure, many dinner parties have followed, but there was something so magical about the anticipation of those Sunday evenings and the way they prolonged the weekend, adding a beautiful finish and staving off the inevitable switching to gearing-up-for-the-work-week mode.

So we’re reviving Sunday dinners. Not every Sunday, but more Sundays than not. And if this past Sunday was any indication, it’s high time we did. This one was just family—Marion’s sister Lena joined us. But anytime you get her and our daughter Laurel in the same room, hilarity ensues, as too many bad sitcom descriptions say. Both were in fine form.

I kept the food quick and simple. The whole weekend had been a busy one, so there wasn’t time to fuss over something all day, even if I’d had the notion to do so. If you’re a regular visitor to Blue Kitchen, you’ve probably noticed that such notions rarely strike. In fact, terms like quick, easy and the ever-popular “brainlessly simple” are far more likely to appear in my posts than, say, “time-consuming, but worth it.”

I also don’t mind repeating myself. Deb over at Smitten Kitchen recently confessed to an aversion to ever repeating recipes, always choosing to try some thing new. I have no such issue. Marion and I had so enjoyed the Endive Salad with Blue Cheese and Walnuts I posted last week that I trotted out a bigger version as our starter. It was awesome [another term whose gratuitous overuse has caused me to generally avoid it, but it really was]. Oooohs and aaaahs all around. I had a few bites with everyone, then took my wine glass to the kitchen to continue cooking. When I came back later to check in on conversation, the plate had been picked so clean that a less fastidious person might have been tempted to just return it to the shelf without washing.

The rest of the dinner was equally simple and well received. Garlicky mashed potatoes and steamed green beans tossed with a little butter for sides. And quickly seared salmon fillets with this, yes, brainlessly simple sauce that had people doing everything but licking the bowl. Seriously.

Continue reading “Sunday dinners and simple pleasures: Seared Salmon Fillets with Dill Dijon Sauce” →

With all due respect: Skillet Roasted Potatoes with Parsley

Fresh parsley and garlic turn small potatoes into a stellar side. Recipe below.

Parsley has long been the Rodney Dangerfield of herbs, getting little or no respect. For years [in America, at least], it was always curly and its only role was as a look-but-don’t-eat garnish on dinner plates at restaurants just slightly above diners on the food chain—social climbers that fancied themselves “fine dining” establishments. The irony, of course, is that places that use the term “fine dining” are as much about fine dining as people who use the term “classy” have class.

Lately, though, parsley has come into its own as a legitimate herb, especially with the increased availability of the more strongly flavored Italian or flat-leaf variety. Still, parsley doesn’t even appear on the radar screens of many cooks when they’re thinking of herbs, and that’s too bad. To me, parsley has a wonderfully fresh flavor that brings a lot to the party in a wide variety of dishes. It also has a slight peppery taste, not unlike arugula. And it’s the perfect foil for big flavors like garlic—think shrimp scampi.

For all these reasons, I thought I’d do something with parsley for Weekend Herb Blogging. Hosted this week by Sher over at What Did You Eat?, it was started a year ago [that’s seven years ago in blog years] by Kalyn over at Kalyn’s Kitchen. Be sure to check out Sher’s Round-up of WHB Sunday evening or Monday [whenever she gets them all reviewed and posted]. Continue reading “With all due respect: Skillet Roasted Potatoes with Parsley” →

A Tale of Two Chilis, Part 2

Marion’s robust chili uses red wine and soy sauce, along with more traditional ingredients, for a big, satisfying flavor. Recipe below.

I am nothing if not a procrastinator. Back in January, when I posted A Tale of Two Chilis, Part 1, I promised to follow up with Marion’s excellent chili recipe as Part 2. So here we are with spring right around the corner and I’m finally getting to it.

I also have a nice white bean chili dish made with chicken that I’d intended to get to as a hearty cold weather dish. But after two different chilis, my Tuscan beans from last week and Patricia’s delicious Brazilian rice and beans, I think I’ll take a little break from writing about beans.

That said, we don’t think of chili as a strictly cold weather meal at our house. Except for when the weather turns blazing hot—usually all of August here in Chicago—we’re happy to make it and eat it pretty much year ’round. Try Marion’s robust chili recipe below and I think you’ll be right there with us. I’ll turn the kitchen over to her now. Continue reading “A Tale of Two Chilis, Part 2” →

A Little Something on the Side: Tuscan Beans

Rosemary and mirepoix, a sautéed mix of onion, carrots and celery, are at the heart of rustic, delicious Tuscan beans. Two recipes below.

As much as possible, I try to be a “waste not, want not” kind of guy. So, having some nice rosemary left over from my last week’s Rosemary Apricots post done for Weekend Herb Blogging, I thought I’d make this simple, delicious side dish. Also being a “two birds, one stone” kind of guy, I decided to post this one on Weekend Herb Blogging too. This week, it’s hosted by the newly married Anna over at Morsels and Musings [best wishes, Anna!]. Continue reading “A Little Something on the Side: Tuscan Beans” →

Rosemary Apricots: Toute de sweet

Rosemary, apricots, sugar and water come together quickly in a very simple, very French dessert. Recipe below.

ROSEMARY IS PROBABLY MY FAVORITE HERB. Every year we grow some in the yard and some in a pot on the back porch, and I always watch it impatiently, waiting for it to get big and hardy enough for me to start harvesting occasional sprigs. Even when I’m not clipping bits to use in some dish or another, I like brushing against the plants as I pass, catching a whiff of the big, distinctive fragrance they release. Rosemary does wonderful things to lamb, chicken, pork, roasted potatoes—and to apricots, in this wonderfully simple French dessert. Continue reading “Rosemary Apricots: Toute de sweet” →

Instinct and Improvisation

Roasted pears and onions pair nicely with pork tenderloin. Recipe below.

Okay, this is the second week in a row I’m talking about pork. For those of you who don’t eat it for religious, cultural or dietary reasons, please bear with me. I promise next week’s post will be 100% pig-free. For those of you who don’t eat pork because “I just don’t like it” [picture someone delivering this line with a pinched face and a whiny voice], what’s not to like about a one stop source for chops, ribs, roasts, a dazzling international array of sausages, hams and bacon, for crying out loud?

This is also the second week in a row I’m using fruit in a savory dish, this time pears. As far as I’m concerned, another reason to like pork is how nicely it plays with fruits and fruit juices.

As a quick aside, Mimi of French Kitchen in America just featured pears in a savory treatment, sort of, at her blog. A delicious sounding Pear-Ginger Crisp with Salted Almond Topping. I’ve had a link to Mimi’s blog in my Food Stuff section for some time now, but I’ve been remiss in not flat out telling people to visit it. You’ll find lots of great food and great writing there, including wonderful memories of her French grandmother. Mimi is a generous, charming hostess. Go there.

Another quick aside. See Other Notes at the end of the recipe for a tip about another great food blog.

Okay, back to the kitchen. Mimi recently did a post on chef James Haller’s instinctive approach to cooking. The more I cook, the more I understand instinct. More often than not, as I look at recipes these days [in cookbooks, online, in magazines], I find a technique or an intriguing pairing of ingredients that will have me improvising a completely different dish in my head. That’s one of the things that keeps cooking exciting for me.

It’s also how this recipe came about. Normally, I’m a stovetop kind of guy. Searing, sautéing, braising, stewing—anything you can do in a good, heavy pan over a gas flame—I’m all over it. But we had a couple of pork tenderloins that weren’t getting any younger, and Marion wasn’t finding time to do anything with them. And yeah, I could have sliced them into medallions and sautéed away, but I thought I should work on some roasting skills. Besides, it’s as cold as a witch’s, er, bazoom in Chicago right now. Firing up the oven to a toasty 400ºF for a while sounded like a good idea. Continue reading “Instinct and Improvisation” →

Chicken and Wine: An evolutionary tale

Herbes de Provence adds a nice complexity to my current version of Chicken and Wine. Recipe below.

No, the title doesn’t refer to the theory—still hotly debated, apparently—that birds evolved from dinosaurs [although the thought of dining on a dinosaur’s distant relative is pretty cool, you have to admit]. It has to do with how cooking and recipes naturally evolve over time.

This recipe is one I’ve made pretty much since I began cooking. And just as my cooking has, it’s evolved and become a little more refined, a little more complex over time. So it’s fitting it should be the very first recipe on Blue Kitchen.

Over the years, I’ve experimented with cooking times, tweaked the herbs and messed with the sauce in various efforts to freshen up a meal that family and friends already loved. There’ve been a couple notable failures: Adding chicken stock to the sauce for more flavor—the flavor it added was chicken soup. And adding a little dried thyme—everyone agreed the “thymeless classic” was better.

There has also been a notable success in the last couple of years: Adding Herbes de Provence, a wonderfully aromatic blend of [typically dried] herbs and lavender flowers used in the cuisine of the Provence region of the south of France. The mix of herbs varies—the blend I use contains rosemary, French thyme, tarragon, basil, savory, cracked fennel, lavender and marjoram. This simple addition gives the dish a complexity the bay leaves alone couldn’t deliver.

Chicken and Wine, as I prepare it, is quite distinct from the classic French coq au vin. It uses white wine instead of red, for one thing, and the cooking time is much shorter; coq au vin pretty much demands to be cooked a day ahead and allowed to swap flavors in the fridge overnight. This dish is best when served immediately after cooking.

There’s a comfort food aspect to this dish that makes it a great family meal. But it also has a kind of rustic elegance that makes it good company food too. So here’s the recipe—at least how I’m making it right now. Continue reading “Chicken and Wine: An evolutionary tale” →