I used to spend Friday nights, or Saturday pre- yoga, or the occasional soggy Sunday morning making “treats”: something special for breakfast. Banana bread (a Friday night favorite), sticky buns (the best take two days), morning buns, chocolate croissants with leftover puff pastry dough (Sunday!), Sour Cream Pancakes (Sunday, too).

Weekdays were for yogurt and granola and hard boiled eggs.

At some point this fall I suddenly realized this made no sense. Monday is the day we all need a little tenderness. Something to soften the ease back to the rush of the working week, time to recognize the coming separation. A little something to compensate for a little sleep debt.

Some Sunday evenings I stir up a batch of oatmeal. We nurse it through the week, adding a little milk or water as needed to warm and moisten (we don’t have a microwave). This Sunday we were behind in our bread-making rhythm-- toast and salmon is another standby for breakfast around -- so I decided to try this recipe for homemade english muffins. But I don’t have a bread maker, and I punched it down after the first rise... maybe 3 hours? and refrigerated overnight. Unbelievably, it rose again in the fridge, and because I got my skillet piping hot,my muffins “popped”, and I had the store-bought-ish number of nooks and crannies (vs.what the recipe and comments describe).

Meanwhile, I’ve bee nursing a bucketload of seville oranges into marmalade. And so this morning we had the blessing of hot homemade muffins with fresh homemade jam. It was the most heavenly breakfast I’ve had in awhile, and a very soft opening to the week.

English Muffins
Adapted from King Arthur Flour

Ingredients
14 oz warm whole milk
3 tbs butter
1 tsp salt
2 tbs sugar
1 large egg, beaten
17 oz flour
2 tsp instant yeast

Directions
Add the yeast to the milk, and then combine the ingredients, in order, in a bowl. Mix after each ingredient, at the end you should have a shaggy, loose dough.
Cover with a cloth and place in a warm spot until double.
Punch down and refrigerate, or allow to rise again for 1-2 hours.
On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out it until it's about 1/2-inch thick. Cut out circles with a floured 2.5-inch cutter. Re-roll and cut out the leftover dough (I ended up with about 20 muffins).
Let rest for about 20 minutes.
Sprinkle the muffins with cornmeal or semolina.
Heat a cast iron pan until just below smoking, add 5 or so muffins (cornmeal side down), and reduce heat to medium. Cook for 7 minutes, flip, reduce heat further if needed, and cook for 3-4 minutes.


Thick-cut Orange Marmalade
2 lbs seville oranges
2 meyer lemons
4 pt water
1 cup fresh squeezed orange juice
3.5 lbs sugar
.5 lb demerara or other treacle-y brown sugar


Wash the fruit and add it and the water to a larger nonreactive pot (le crueset is great). Bring to a boil and simmer for 1 hour or so, until the fruit is easily pierced with a fork. Allow to cool overnight. You want the water, so just stick the whole pot in the fridge.
Slice the fruit thinly, removing and reserving the seeds.
Wrap the seeds in cheesecloth.
Remove 1 cup of the water, and discard. Replace with the cup of fresh squeezed orange juice (from juice oranges, not sevilles). Add the cheesecloth-wrapped seeds, and bring to a boil. Boil for 10 minutes.
Remove cheesecloth + seeds.
Add the sliced fruit to the pot and return to a boil.
Add the sugar.
Stir over a gentle heat until it is disolved, then boil up rapidly, without stirring, for about half an hour, or until setting point (approximately 220 degrees).
Pour in jars, let sit for about 30 minutes before covering or boiling.

We have done a lot of eating the past two weeks. As my husband said, we haven't eaten poorly, but nor have we eaten well.

Well, actually we have eaten well, but not that healthily. Last night, as I reached over the Monte Bianco (really, wintery Eton Mess) I was spooning up to turn down the heat underneath Beef Bourgignon,  I realized I hadn't had a single leafy green vegetable all day, or for that matter, a piece of fruit. Oh don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the jalapeno pancakes, bacon, and oj for brunch; the carrots I ate for a snack, but I am looking forward to getting back to my daily 5.

We are lucky, here in San Francisco, to really have 4 seasons of growing, and produce. This season, the apples have been great, although the pears have not been as spectacular as last year. The last time I was at the Alemany Farmer's Market  (2 weeks ago?), the kiwis were just coming in to their own. I've always liked kiwis alright, as say a component in deli fruit salad, or in a french fruit tart. Ok, so really: as decoration. But I think perhaps I've never had them ripe enough before last year. The Farmer/Vendor at our market says that when they are ripe enough, when they are ready, you can slice the bud end and push the fruit through. And for most of the weeks of kiwi season, this will be J's Saturday treat-- a sweet, jelly-like piece of fruit, appearing magically from brown fuzz. No knife even necessary if you just pull the bud off with your fingers. My antidope-y antidote from the antipodes.



photo by  bensonkua

I wrote a column late this summer about election season -- particularly August and early September-- being called Silly Season in Washington, and, I suppose, by pundits elsewhere/everywhere. In D.C. we knew it was Silly Season when people were getting on the subway in shorts, without a sweater (the air conditioning is very cold in the buildings in D.C.). We knew it was Silly Season when we couldn’t get those cheapo weekend rooms at Dewey Beach, or St. Michael’s. These memories are all strongly photographic: the white socks in the sneaker, chubby knees below the shorts, the bellies pressing against thin cotton t shirts that will be too cold in the Air and Space Museum, in the Metro. The haze across the Chesapeake bay bridge. The yellow of the corn at the roadside stands.

This Saturday, the market was 20% open stands. My son asked for raspberries (the last weekend was it), pears (only a week or two left, said the vendor I secretly call Mountain Girl), a Horchata (still going strong). And these were signs: pointing towards velvet, shimmering green. Kale Season.

This week we’ll be trying the Kale and Pork Chops I saw on DALS, and since it was $2 for three bunches, there will be “homemade pirate booty” (Kale Chips), and, I imagine, next week we’ll be eating one of our top 5 favorite pasta dishes: Portuguese Pasta.

Portuguese Pasta (Or, Pasta with Sausage and Kale)
3 tbs olive oil
1 lb hot sausage, crumbled
1/2 lb kale, center ribs discarded, leaves chopped
1/2 lb rigatoni
1/2 c broth
1 oz grated Pecorino plus additional for serving

Directions
Heat oil in a skillet over medium heat until hot but not smoking, add sausage, breaking up any lumps with a spoon, until browned, 5 to 7 minutes.
Meanwhile, blanch kale in a 6-quart pot of boiling salted water, for about 5 minutes, strain.
Return cooking water to a boil, and cook pasta. Drain, reserving 1/2 c pasta water.
While pasta cooks, add kale to sausage in skillet and sauté, stirring, for about 5 minutes. Add broth, stirring and scraping up any brown bits from bottom of skillet.
Add pasta, reserved cooking water to skillet, tossing until combined. Stir in cheese.

It’s shaping up to be a very California Christmas around here. Christmas lights in palm trees. Boys in Tutus. Walks along the sea, without a coat. Hot chocolate and bare ankles.

I’ve been thinking about what Ohlone traditions at this time of year must have been, too: observation of the seal migration, for sure. Hopefully we’ll do that before too long, but it might be January. Despite my efforts in gathering advent activities--both local and personal-- I don’t really know to much about Mexican advent traditions. I’ve read about La Posada/ La Posarela (I think J is too young this year, but maybe next year), but that’s it.

Mostly, I think J-- and ok, me, too-- might be happy if the “mexican” portion of our observances included a stop at Mitchell’s, say every other day, for a cone of Mexican Chocolate Ice Cream. I think it is my favorite ice cream flavor ever, and I don’t like Chocolate Ice cream. Inspired by that ice cream, and the chocolate spice donut at our local shop, I came up with this cookie for desert for last week’s taco night.




They are spicy, exotic, rich tasting, great with milk or tea or red wine. They are a bit dry, and not super sweet, so I definitely think this is an “adult” cookie, and not an afternoon treat. Unless of course it’s a California Christmas where you are, too.

Mexican Chocolate Biscuits
I cooked these on a lined cookie sheet-- and one sheet was big enough. You could easily make the cookies smaller and use more sheets-- the butter tends to spread, so don’t place them too closely.

1 piece star anise
½ tsp cinnamon
3/4 c flour
1/4 c unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 c unsalted butter, room temp.
1/2 c sugar (don’t use turbinado, there isn’t enough time for it to melt well)
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
2 tbs steel-cut oats
1/4 c semisweet chocolate chips


Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grid the star anise. Combine star anise, cinnamon, flour, cocoa, baking soda, salt in a bowl. With and electric mixer, beat butter with sugar and vanilla until well blended. Add flour mixture, beat just until dough begins to set. Mix in oats with spatula. Add chocolate chips and beat maybe twice (just to combine).
With your hands, shape cookies into 1 tbs size balls. Place on sheet, and smoosh down.
Bake for 15 minutes, cool on sheet.

Some might call me picky, I’d say, instead, of course, that I have a sensitive stomach, am hyper aware of the affect food has on me-- my mood, my outlook-- and I’m frugal, but with expensive tastes.

Whatever the excuse, I find that I do a lot of cooking right before traveling. This is a somewhat learned trait, for better or worse. One Christmas I was able to withstand a 6 hour delay on my way home thanks to homemade pate sandwiches and a package of belgian chocolates, courtesy of my mother. For swimming parties, I make lentil salads. Actually, I seem to make lentil salad for almost any outdoor eating event.

This year for Thanksgiving we embarked on the long drive down to San Bernardino County and my in-laws’. We decided to take it slow, spend the night along the way. And since its been so temperate, why not camp along the way. I’ve been dying to take a camping trip with J, and now that he is potty trained it seemed like a perfect opportunity: and there are Yurts in the Santa Cruz mountains.

But anyway.... this trip was no different: a new granola recipe, chocolate biscuits, lentil salad (of course!), pate, plus bread, cheese, pears... for lunch and our afternoon hike. For dinner, we planned to grill hamburgers, toast the buns, roast some red peppers, and make s’mores. And perhaps whip up a salad on the side.

So. We got lost looking for camp, and arrived at our Yurt after dark. And while it has averaged 65 degrees from San Francisco to San Luis Obispo, this week temperatures fell to record lows.

The hamburgers were reliably delicious, and so were the s’mores. The peppers burned, the buns got covered in soot. We had some toast.. and because I couldn’t find the food locker handle in the night, the only other thing we had to eat was the chicken liver pate left from lunch. We smeared it on the toast, drank beer, and chatted with other campers, the guys in the RV who gave us matches, the rangers who gave us firewood. It must have been funny, the city slickers with the toddler totally unequipped in the freezing cold eating pate’, but everyone ate it. ALL of it. And told me they loved it. It was what we had to share, to say thank you.

Every winter I order chicken livers, in anticipation of making lasagna, tortellini, “french” meatloaf. Inevitably, I have leftovers. But this year, it was the 70 degree heat that we had all month that foiled my plans. I didn’t make the lasagna or the tortellini, and not wanting to waste the livers before our trip, I turned to a old standby pate recipe. I love chicken liver pate. It is the perfect picnic food... and perfect for making friends and staying warm when the weather hits 25 degrees and you are sleeping in a Yurt (thankfully in super warm extreme-altitude camping bags, thanks to my crazy x-game brother-in-law).


Chicken Liver Pate, good enough for a yurt.
1 stick butter
1 c finely chopped onion
1 large clove garlic, minced
2 tsp minced fresh thyme
1 tbs minced fresh sage
3/4 tsp salt
black pepper
1/4 tsp ground allspice
1 lb chicken livers, trimmed
2 tbs cognac or armagnac
3 tbs whipped cream

Directions
Melt 1 stick butter in a large skillet over moderate heat. Add onion and garlic. Cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Add herbs, salt, pepper, allspice, and livers. Cook, stirring occasionally until livers are cooked outside but still pink when cut open, about 8 minutes. Stir in cognac/armagnac and remove from heat. Purée mixture in a food processor. Add whipped cream and stir to combine. Transfer pâté to crock/s and smooth top.
Cover and chill at least 2 hours.

When I was a very very little girl we lived in London for a while.
I am old enough that this was before the gastro-revolution that’s turned England into a mecca for Mediterranean cooking done comfort style, but, ironically, I think that there was more authentic, and interesting, and veven good food, to be found then-- in the 70s--than now.

England is far to the north; the reason the vegetables traditionally get cooked to death is that they are not particualrly flavorsome left tender-cooked, or raw, or served with just a little aioli. The vegetables need the long cook, the addition of spices, of broths, a little dairy. The Mediterranean style restaurants that dominate the British landscape of today rely heavily on imported vegetables, and obviously, imported cuisine: it’s not authentic to the land, or he people.

Honestly the “nursery food” was pretty awful when I was a kid, but bangers and mash CAN be done right: it simply, like all other cooking, requires a little hand, some presence of mind.
But what I really loved as a child was the immigrant food-- the incredible curries (yes! even as a 5 yeard old!), the chaat, samosas, poori is still my great love. Having never been to India (yet), my marker for all Indian food is always London. And after 300 years, India has had an indelible effect on Britain-- there is more authenticity to eating curry prepared- even by a with britisher- than roasted red peppers

And then there were the regular (monthly?) trips to SoHo. I think it was still, then, a bit gang-landy, but it also (or maybe because) had some of that subversive chic going for it. It was simultaneously slummy and very sophisticated. And I am not quite sure what my parents were doing taking me there, but I loved the food, and still cook some of the dishes from my memory. I think the SoHo Tiger must have made me special kid food, as I haven’t come across Pork Balls anywhere else.Or perhaps Chinese immigrants in London were from a different region than those that have set up shop in the U.S.

Whatever the case, last week,while M was away, I the Pork Balls.J and I ate a whole half pound between us, and I think he would have eaten more. I served these with some steamed bok choy and rice-- but next time I think I might try one or two of the other dishes I remember from London: Mushroom Stir Fry, Spare Ribs, Fish Quenelles. The British do have good meat, and of course the fish is fantastic. So maybe we’ll just have a double portion of Pork Balls, in commemoration. They are that good.

Pork Balls
3 cloves (about 1/2 tbs) Garlic, minced
1 bunch Scallions, finely chopped
3 tbs fresh grated Ginger
Dash of Cayenne
1/2 lb ground Pork
1 Tbs Soy Sauce
1 Tsp fish Sauce
1 Tsp Brown Sugar
1Egg, beaten
1/4 c Flour (or half- and-half mix of cornstarch and flour)
1/4 c Peanut or Safflower oil

Combine the brown sugar, soy sauce, and fish sauce in a small bowl.In a separate, large bowl, place the Pork, and add the garlic, scallions, ginger, and cayenne, one by one, incorporating (by hand) after each-- try to handle only as much as it takes to mix in the spices.
Pour the liquid ingredients over the top and let rest about 20 minutes, then fold in/mop the liquid ingredients, making a large ball of the sausage, but again trying not to “pack firm”.Let marinate for at least 30 minutes or up to 3 hours-- the remaining prep and cooking only takes about 20 minutes total.

Heat about half the oil in a wok or if using a deep skillet, heat all of it. Form pork into 1-2 inch balls, dip in the egg, and roll, very lightly, in the flour. Drop 4-6 balls at a time in the oil, turning down the heat after the first 3 minutes, and turning it back up in between batches. The balls take about 6 minutes each to cook. Add the remaining oil half way through if/as needed.

Drain on paper towels, and serve with rice and soy sauce. I cut a serrano up and added this to 3 tbs soy,1 tsp vinagar, 1 ts dried ginger, as I Iike things a bit spicier than J.
This dish should serve 3-4 with rice and a vegetable... or 2 very hungry people.

For whatever reason, Fall always makes me think of party food.
It’s funny, really, because we never have a party in September, too full of the fun of “back to school”, and often, a trip for my father-in-law’s birthday. And November brings my birthday, and thanksgiving, and, in years past, the annual California Road Trip we and some friends would take (in the Before J era).

So really, it’s October that makes me think of parties, although funnily enough not ones that I host. One friend always hosts a Chili Cook-off (we’ve only won the whole thing once:(), swollen now to more than 200 people, 7 types of chili, and separate competitions for sides, deserts, and specials. I think she should get Anchor Steam Brewery to sponsor the event, but not this year: no cook-off, as baby number 2 is due in 2 weeks. Then there is Heather’s annual pumpkin carving: pumpkins, red wine, oatmeal cookies, tortillas and (homemade) tomatillo salsa, and all kinds of sweet potato snacks, her favorites.

Heather moved to Amsterdam two years ago, though.We’d hoped to visit her this October, but instead we are here, in the rain.

I do love fall party food, too. Where as other times of year I feel compelled to cook something innovative, or Asian, or Italian, in the fall, it seems perfectly acceptable, appropriate, even, to simply have comfort food, super traditional stuff that rarely makes it into the sort of cookbook chefs write, Amazon recommends, or the library displays. So this year, I’ve decided to start a new tradition, our own October party... call it an insurance plan against new babies or moves,if you will: I want to make sure I get my fall party in.

This Sunday, we’re hosting our first annual pumpkin carving party, with 10 of J’s friends, their parents, a bevvy of my favorite fa snacks, old and new.

I am originally from Washington, D.C., and Cheese Straw are a common snack in the South, as are the Spiced Nuts and Sugared Bacon. All of these recipes are pretty easy to make, and a bit addictive.

Cheese Straws
8 oz grated Cheddar cheese
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened and cut up
1 cup flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes or cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon cream

Preheat oven to 350°F.
In a food processor, combine all the ingredients through the pepper until the mixture is coarse/breadcrumble-y, then add the cream and blend just until the dough balls.
On a lightly floured surface roll the dough until 1/8-inch thick.
With a sharp knife or pizza cutter, cut into 1/4 inch wide strips.
Transfer the strips to a lined cookie sheet
Bake the straws on the middle rack for 12 to 15 minutes, until the ends are just brown.
Cool before serving.

Spiced Pecans
4 tablespoons butter, melted
4 cups pecan halves
1 tablespoon of kosher salt
1 teaspoon cayenne

Preheat the oven to 325°F.
Combine the butter and the pecans in a medium bowl and toss to coat.
Spread the pecans in one layer on a large cookie sheet.
Bake for 25 minutes, shaking the pan 2-3 times to prevent scorching.
Let Pecans cool slightly (10 minutes-ish), then sprinkle with salt and cayenne.
Cool completely before serving.

Sugared Bacon
1 lb bacon (in slices)
1 tsp cayenne
1/3 c firmly packed brown sugar
Nonstick cooking spray

Preheat oven to 350°F.
Slice Bacon slices into thirds, length wise (basically you are making bacon snacks or bites instead of big breakfast slices).
Mix Sugar and pepper together
Line two large cookie sheets, and spray with nonstick spray
Arrange bacon in a single layers on the sheets.
Evenly sprinkle with pepper and sugar.
Bake until bacon is crisp and browned, about 30 minutes. Rotate the sheets half-way through cooking to prevent burning.
Drain on paper towels,and serve immediately (while warm!)

Ice Breaker
I first had this drink at a now long-closed restaurant in San Francisco called The Last Supper Club. Cheesy name, but they had a great bar, and some fantastic down home Italian dishes. It is sorely missed.

These are proportions only; I’ll be making a pitcher for us adults:

1 1/2 ounces ice wine
1 1/2 ounces Ciroc or other grape-based vodka
4 frozen grapes

Fill half of a cocktail shaker with ice. Add the wine and vodka and shake well. Strain into a martini glass, garnish with the frozen grapes and serve.


Also on the menu:
Etsy’s cupcake adaptation of Rose Bakery’s Broccoli Cake (the cake is delicious, and so fun for kids) and Orangette’s Sweet Potato Bundt Cake.

My friend Jason says he’s looking forward to his son’s first opportunity to run with scissors.... I’m just looking forward to the food.

This blog post + these recipes are part of Pretty Mommy’s fall recipe exchange. Last up was whiskitgood with the great post on Morocco (we spent our honeymoon there!) and Moroccan food .... next up (Monday) is Tina at Bull in a China Shop.... looking forward to more recipes!

It has been so hot here, and yet because it’s October, I don’t feel like just having salade nicoise for dinner. And the market is a strange jumble, too: tomatoes are finally in... sitting right next to pears.

We’ve made chocolate chip cookies, but it’s too hot to make pizza. We’ve eaten lots of the pesto I’d hoped would keep through the winter, as the heat is making me too lazy to even blend a new batch. And grilled steaks, now that this month’s allotment has arrived.

I never thought I’d say something like this, but I wish it would cool off. I’m ready for so cuban-praised pork, some sugo, lasgne, gnocchi, apple pie.


But meanwhile, I am enjoying my frontsteps-beer.

I knew a woman named Renee once. She and I worked together at a small, well trafficked bookstore in SoHo, before SoHo became a Disneyland version of an arts district, before Giuliani. It’s not there anymore-- Spring Street Books-- but I worked there for 3 years or so when I was in college. SoHo already wasn’t the SoHo it had been, and models lived nearby, and there was an Origins at the corner, and a store called Country Road, which I think was the Australian version of Banana Republic. There was also Moss, and Kelley and Ping, and David Bowie shot his scenes for Basquiat a block away. We had a great magazine department, and Linda Evangelista would come in once a month and buy and armful. Cindy was our favorite, she would buy Barbara Kingsolver and Jane Smiley, and came in with Rande Gerber when she was still married to Richard Gere, only we didn’t know it then.

Renee had finished college and gone to South America to teach English, and had become very ill, and had had to come home. She was small, with long brown hair, and was mousy, and had pasty skin. She was slim, too, but it turned out she’d developed Diabetes, but it took the better part of a year to stabilize her health. I don’t remember all the details, but I think there was a family fall out in there too. Anyway she lived around the corner, staying with her college roommate who was now a stockbroker on Wall Street, while she figured out what to do next.

Renee was always so calm, and never recognized anyone famous, and could deal with our crazy boss, Izzy, the holocaust refugee owner of the store. He was friends with the guy who’d written Maus, and Kinky Friedman, or at least knew them well enough for them to stop by and ask for discounts.

Renee was more mature, and more conscious of money than many of our coworkers. I remember the awe I felt the day she said she’d made the curry she was heating up for lunch. Thai curry. This for me was like when other people realize mayonanaise can be made at home, or dill pickles were once cucumbers. It was life changing . I loved thai food, but of course was too poor to afford it often. I was already a good cook, and able top make a nutritious, tasty food most nights, but it had never occurred to me that ethnic food could be made at home, too.

Renee lent me a cookbook, took me to Chinatown to find ingredients, and invited me over to cook when I was ready to try it for the first time myself. That cookbook is dynamite, and Renee was a great teacher, and Chinatown a great resource.

That Spring Renee got into graduate school for public health, not at NYU, but somewhere out of the city. I am not sure where, or what became of her. But I make a lot of thai food, and whenever my herbs just start to wilt, I make batches of curry paste, and think of her, and how she’d always say to drop by for “tea and sympathy, or vodka and a cigarette” when Izzy was in one of his moods, and she was leaving me to the late shift.

Green Curry Paste
Adapted  from Real Thai, by Nancie McDermott. I am allergic to shrimp so I omit the paste, but you coul include 1 tsp shrimp paste in place of the fish sauce.

Ingredients
1 tbs whole coriander seed
1 tbs whole cumin seed
1 tsp whole peppercorn
3 stalks fresh lemongrass
1/2 c coarsely chopped fresh cilantro roots, stems and leaves
1/4 c coarsely chopped mixed thai basil, vietnamese coriander, italian basil, and mint
1 tsp minced lime peel
1 tbs chopped fresh ginger
6 cloves of garlic, smashed and peeled
1 shallot chopped
1/2 c fresh thai (birdseye) chilies, chopped
1 tbs fish sauce
1 tsp salt

Directions
Toast the coriander, cumin, and black pepper together in a skillet, then pound in mortar and pestle.
Trim the lemongrass stalks and chop finely.
In a food processor or blender, grind the cilantro and mixed greens until roughly processed (5 minutes or so), then add lime, ginger, garlic, shallot, chilies, one by one, pureeing to combine after each addition.  Add the toasted spices and lemongrass, then the fish sauce  and salt.

This makes enough for 2 to 4 pots of curry. To store, put the ingredients in a jar and cover with a thin layer of neutral oil. Lasts for several months in the refrigerator.

We are in a strange season here, fall and Summer, all at once.
Last week I made braised artichokes, and had 3 blankets on the bed, and the next day made skordalia and baba ganoush. We ate pasta with the last of the zucchinis, and some freezer pesto.

It’s hard to get used to this weather, but I think that’s just because the calender says so. It’s been foggy and rainy and cool with intermittent warmth for a month or two, so it makes sense that now it’s finally warm. and after this will come a little more briskness in the air, later mornings, a return of damp at night.

But the calender isn’t from the northwest, and it says orange leaves, and pumpkins, and spice. It doesn’t say bright fresh tasting chili made with over-ripe tomatoes, the first tiny chilis, some marinated pork and beef. It doesn’t say that now is the season for Thai food (all the ingredients are in the market), the days to be taking a hike, and going lake swimming.

J can’t read the calender, he gets up and asks “swimming open?”, he giggles at the idea of a hike. He asks for shorts. He says it is still time for “green one” (basil). My trustiest clocks: the sky, the sun, and J.


Zucchini Pasta
This is a great cooler summer day dinner dish, one that J gobbles up by the handful.
1 clove garlic
6 small, firm zucchini
2 cups packed fresh basil leaves
salt & pepper
1 pound fusili, or other short, stubby pasta
1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2 cup mixed grated Parmesan and Pecorino


Directions
Smash and peel the clove of garlic, don't dice
Cut zucchini in to thin (1/4 to 1/8 inch) circles. into 1/8-inch-thick slices.
Warm the olive oil over a low heat with the garlic clove, for about 5 minutes, or until the oil starts sizzling.
Tear basil into thin strips.
Turn oil up to medium-high, remove the garlic (discard), and add the zucchini and 1/4 the basil. DO NOT STIR for 7 minutes. Reduce heat to low and add 1/4 of the basil, season with salt and pepper, put top on the pot until the pasta is ready (but not more than 10 minutes).
Meanwhile, boil water for pasta; cook pasta, reserve 1/2 c cooking water when you drain the pasta.
Combine the pasta, zucchini, butter, remaining basil, 1/4 c of cheese and 1/4 c of the reserved water. Stir to combine and taste. Add more water, salt, pepper as necessary.
Serve with the remaining cheese.
Serves 4-6.

We had quite the day of making around here yesterday, mostly to make sure nothing  went to waste. We used everything but the squeal.
Cabbage pickle to use up the cabbage from  green chorizo tacos last week
Babaganoush with the eggplant left over from last week's ratatouille
Tomato conserva with tomatoes that we'd forgotten about (oh and a few new ones, discounted  for sauce making,  from the market, of course)
Skordalia with the tomato left in the blender from the conserva
Chorizo scrambled eggs, with the last of last weeks' eggs, and the leftover chorizo.

And, focaccia, grilled fish, roasted radicchio, braised artichokes, hibiscus orange iced tea, fig tart, and overnight oatmeal.

I am tired, but looking forward to making pesto tonight with my super-discounted-basil-with-an-extra-bunch-thrown-in.

J, M, and I made up the fig tart recipe, and I made up the babaganoush and skordalia recipes as  I went, but didn't write anything down. Of everything we made yesterday, the Conserva is by far the easiest, and I think the one thing that will really "last" through the winter: 2 jars went into the fridge (one for keeping, one for giving), and two jars in the freezer.

Tomato Conserva
This is halfway between tomato paste and tomato jam, and can be used in place of either.  It is a great easy way to use up extra tomatoes that are going soft, and just a spoonful adds a really lush, deep flavor to tomato sauces all winter long. 

4 lbs tomatoes
1/4 c olive oil
1 tbs salt
1 tsp brown sugar

Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Line a 9x12 pan with foil
Core and then slice or roughly chop the tomatos; you should have enough to cover the pan in a single layer (you can double the recipe before you need to use an additional pan), pour olive oil on top and sprinkle with salt and sugar.

Put the pan in the oven and turn the oven down to the lowest setting. Cook for at least 4 hours and up to 16 hours.

Remove from oven and cool for 30 minutes. Strain the tomatoes for at least 30 minutes and up to 2 hours-- you don't want to press, just dump the ingredients of the pan into a colander set over a bowl.

Puree strained tomatoes. Add about 1/4 of the strained liquid. You want a really creamy, almost peanut-buttery consistency: add more of the liquid until you get there. I used about 3/4 of the retained liquid, but if you use all of it and need some more, add olive oil.

These proportions should yield 2 small jars of tomato bliss.

A friend’s mother has a saying about food in her house-- “no bags or boxes”, meaning no processed food. I like the saying, makes things clear and easy to remember.

Over the past year-- before I learned the saying!-- we’ve done a lot to work towards a more purposeful/intentional kitchen. By that I mean buying only what we need and avoiding spur of the moment purchases/take out. Making more things I might once thought of as shelf staples, sometimes because it seemed like a fun project, a way to while away a rainy Saturday (1. I LOVE to cook 2. San Francisco gets very rainy), like making our own pate, making ketchup (soooo good, and so much better than Heinz’s).

Sometimes out of necessity: we use Mayonnaise so infrequently it goes bad in between, so it just makes more sense to make small batches as we need it.

But we’ve never kept a lot of shelf-stable food around at all, not really. I grew up in Italy, where refrigerators were tiny-to-nonexistent, food was bought every day at the farmer’s market. My husband grew up in a small town in upstate New York, eating his mother raspberries, helping to can the tomatoes, knowing, intimately, where his food came from.

Part of my desire to make more of my own food is for health purposes: fewer sick days, less doctor visits. But really, mostly, it’s hedonistic. Touching, cutting, cooking, smelling and eating simple fresh food is a wonderful sensual experience, and I see no reason not to do it as much as possible. It is one of the wonderful gifts that nature provides us, beauty and nourishment for all of our senses.

But practically, resolving to eat even less packaged food -- especially with a toddler underfoot -- can be tricky. Lately we’ve gotten it down to the following: 1. pasta (not gonna change unless someone invents at-home brass cutters) 2. granola bars 3. cheese crackers 4. yogurt 5. canned tomatoes, canned tuna, canned crab, mustard, indian pickles/chutney, peanut and almond butter 6. frozen tortellini

We make (most) of our own bread and buns, I make loose granola for breakfast cereal, we make our own ice cream, we buy dried beans, we make our own jam. This summer unfortunately I won’t be able to can any of M’s fantastic tomato sauce, and I like supporting the indian foods vendor at our farmer’s market with my occasional purchase.


Ironically, #2 and #3 are because of J: these are his snacks. I’m sad to think that in some ways M and I eat more healthily than J does. So I’m focusing there, right now. My goal for this year is to reduced our packaged foods to 1. pasta 2. yogurt 3. the canned goods listed above: so I need to nail some sweet-ish treats, and some savory ones, too (although, nuts are a good compromise).

I’ve been working on the granola bars. So far this is the best recipe I’ve found, but ironically it’s a little too sweet for J. This weekend, though, I hit upon a fantastic compromise: low-sugar peanut butter cookies. So full of protein-y energy goodness.

Peanut butter cookies
Adapted from Epicurious
I use organic peanut butter, so that affects my flour and sugar choices.
2 c peanut butter (creamy or chunky)
1/2 c brown sugar
1 c honey
2 eggs
1/4 oat flour
1 tsp baking soda

Directions
Preheat oven to 350°F.
Grease baking sheets.
In a bowl with an electric mixer beat together peanut butter and sugar until combined well. Whisk together eggs and add to peanut butter mixture.
Sift together flour and baking soda, and add to peanut butter mixture, beating all the while.
Roll dough into balls and arrange about 1 inch apart on baking sheets. With tines of a fork flatten balls to 2 inches in diameter. Bake cookies in batches in middle of oven until puffed and pale golden, about 12 minutes.
Makes about 60 cookies.

Sundays follow a pretty predictable routine around here. M goes to Master’s Swim, J and I do a craft activity, we all go to church, we come home, eat brunch, take naps (some for longer than others...) do some cooking for the week (this week: gluten-free peanut butter cookies and these blueberry muffins), go on a walk or to family swim when J wakes up, home for dinner-- usually something slow-cooked all day long, in the background, with enough leftovers to pinch-hit throughout the week, then a bath and bed for J, and Mad Men for us.

Recently I’ve really noticed how much Mad Men has been inspiring our Sunday evening meal. I think it tarted out as a bit of a joke, and really, sometimes the food is a bit of a joke, sadly, but sometimes an old 60s stand by, re-made with fresh/ modern ingredients turns out to be a real winner (chocolate pudding!).

Last night we had both a winner and a loser. I made a “chinese” style pot roast, based upon this recipe (changed to cook more slowly) and was reminded that the slowcooker we have is absolutely useless and I really should just use our Le Crueset and the oven. The broth was absolutely delicious, and poured over some leftover sweet potatoes and rice it could be a good lunch on a cooler day. Unfortunately, I have 3 lbs of inedible Cross-tied pot roast to go with the delicious broth.

Sunday is usually the only night of the week I make desert (it’s leftover sweet or fruit the rest of the the time, if anything), and when I hit upon the “chinese” pot roast (it sounded like such a fun idea!), I tried to think about what an American in the 60’s would have thought was an “oriental” flavor. Also, I prefer single serving-size deserts for us when possible-- it helps with portion control, and wanted to avoid having to buy ingredients at the grocery store (farmer’s market was okay). Ended up making Coconut Pudding (okay, really, Coconut Panna Cotta): maybe one of the best simple deserts I’ve ever made.... J and M certainly both thought o: portion-control be damned,they both ate two servings.

Coconut Pudding
Adapted from Gourmet
You can freeze the puddings for about 3 hours to set if you are in a hurry, but don’t leave them there more than 16 hours or so: move them to the fridge. Also, panna cottas tend to break down within 24-32 hours, so don’t make these more than 2 days in advance.

Ingredients
1 cup unsweetened flaked coconut
1/4 cup turbinado sugar
1 can coconut milk (shaken)
1 1/2 cups heavy cream plus additional if necessary
1 envelope unflavored gelatin
2 tablespoons water

Directions
Bring a kettle of water to a boil and pour 3/4 cup over coconut in a blender, add sugar, let soak 5 minutes. Blend well, about 30 seconds. Add coconut milk, cream, and sugar. Blend at high for about 5 minutes, then strain through a fine-mesh sieve. You should have about 3 cups of liquid; add more heavy cream if necessary. Strain, pressing on solids until you have 1 cup coconut milk.
Lightly oil 6 ramekins, small tea cups, or small glass desert bowls.
Sprinkle gelatin over water in a small saucepan and let soften 1 minute. Heat over low heat, stirring, until gelatin has dissolved. Add coconut cream and whisk over medium heat, for 1-2 minutes. Divide among ramekins and chill until set, at least 4 hours.

Mad Men image from AMC...

I really enjoyed the photos in this post, but what the images really highlighted for me was how much “diet” food is ugly. Either we don’t prepare it well, or it is a shake, or brown, dried, ascetic and aseptic.

There's an old saying, "The stomach is easier filled than the eye." and I think it's true... perhaps we eat more when the food is not pretty, seeking to fill a hunger we've "misplaced", mislabeled.

So this is a resolution: when we get home in a week or so I’m going to work on making our meals prettier. And we aren’t going to skip the mealtime blessing because it’s late, or just bread and cheese: every moment, every morsel, is precious.

I love cake, I love pie, I love tarts, ice cream, sorbet. I never really had a sweet tooth until I was pregnant with J, but I have always loved nut-based confections. Fruit tarts with almond fillings, mexican tea cakes, and my old stand by, walnut cake.

I keep hearing there is some division between cake lovers and pie lovers, but I’m bi-desert: I’ll take either, or both. Except a lot of pie is a it soggy, and I only really like fruit ones with fresh fruit, but a cream pie I can eat whenever. Maybe I’m really a cake person, after all- -or at least now I ma: I love them for their flexibility; once you get past the chemistry of leavening and rising, cakes are much more flexible than other baked treats are: less sugar here, more fruit there, it might be hit or miss at first but it’s workable.

So I decided to try and bake a cake with J, as our first foray into sweets-making in the kitchen. Actually, it was our second: he came in, once, when I was making cookies, ate a bunch of dough, and went to sleep 3 hours late after terrorizing both the cats and unrolling two rolls of toilet paper. So the recipe below is, naturally, one, that works well with less sugar, with honey instead, with stevia; is high in protein, gluten-free, and even has a carrot.
But you know, it’s still cake! And for his second birthday, I made J a version with honey, strawberries, and lots of candles.

“Happy Cake” (Walnut Cake)
This is adapted from an old Saveur Magazine recipe (I get all my best ideas from Saveur), and is apparently a pretty-traditional french desert. I’ve given variations I like, and how I include J in the making at the end.

Ingredients
8 oz shelled walnuts, plus 12 walnut halves
4 oz unsaslted butter
6 oz brown sugar
1 carrot
3 eggs

Directions
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
Grease your baking dish, I use a 10 or 12 inch tart pan but you could use a 10 inch pie plate or 10 inch cake pan, just test the cake about 10 minutes early.
Grate the carrot, set aside
Separate the eggs and beat the whites until stiff
Grind the walnuts in a food proecessor until they are coarse-- like rough sand (don’t overprocess until mealy, whatever you do!).
Add the carrot, sugar, butter, and egg yolks, blending quickly after each addition.
Beat in 1/4 the egg whites, then fold the cake mixture into the egg white softly, slowly and carefully until just combined.
Decorate with reserved walnut halves.
Pour batter into baking dish.
Bake for 45 minutes or until tester is clean.


Variations
You could put 6-8 skinned plum/apricot/nectarine halves, halved side down on top of he cake right before it goes in, instead of the reserved walnut halves.
Substitute 1/2 c honey for the sugar and 1 tbs of butter
Substitute stevia for brown sugar, 1 for 1

J tried to grate the carrot but he’s really too little for a box grater, yet. However, I did put all the ingredients into separate bowls, and he happily fed them into the food processor, as usual.Don’t let the kids combine the egg whites, it’s probably too delicate until they are teenagers, even.

For J’s birthday, I made the cake with honey, and slowcooked some frozen strawberries in a little homemade jam, basically making a strawberry puree. About 5- 10 minutes before the cake was ready, I removed it from the oven, preheated the broiler, spread the topping on the cake, and returned the cake to the broiler for 5 minutes.

It used to be easy to toss off something a bit unknown or surprising about Italy, or Italian food. Like the fact that the South is pretty vegetarian and tomato oriented, but it’s the North with the best vegetables, despite the emphasis on meat up there. Or the fact that the further North, the less Olive Oil is used: by the time you get to the Swiss border, it’s just used a dash, maybe in a spring salad dressing. Butter is an almost un-heard of luxury in the South-- even cakes are made with olive oil.

But times are changing, even in Italy. More than fish is eaten on Fridays, and gelato has long been available in Naples.

One thing remains the same, though: Rome is the capital of pasta. Because it’s in the middle of Italy, Rome is called the capital of the “mezzogiorno”, the “mid-day”, in between North and South, in between olive oil and butter, meat and tomatoes. A compromise was forged in pasta. Rome has the greatest array of pasta dishes, and the most with meat sauce (unheard of even 50 miles south-- it’s almost all vegetarian sauce, meat was too special). Beyond pasta alone, Rome is really known for its spaghetti.

I grew up in Rome, and developed an unquenchable taste for pasta. I could eat it for breakfast, for lunch, for dinner, 5 days a week (I want a hamburger, a banh mi, merguez, and some fish, yogurt, fruit, nuts, and some of M’s pizza, once in a while).

J seems to have inherited my pasta-tooth, but to accommodate his little two-year old fingers, I’ve modified a lot of our old pasta standbys to use penne and rigatoni instead of spaghetti. and in keeping with Italian tradition-- different types of sauces are suitable for different shapes of pasta-- I’ve ended up modifying some of the sauces along the way, too.

Tonight J and I made what I’ve taken to calling Summer Pasta. It started out life, years ago, as a version of a recipe in Patricia Wells’ Trattoria (highly recommended!), but has now, of course, taken on a life-- and flavor of it’s own. I shaved the cheese and diced the tomatoes, J spun the bitter greens and mixed the sauce together (I put the ingredients in individual bowls for him to pour into the large bowl and stir).

Tonight I added basil for the first time ever, but as always it was a total success: J ate two huge adult size helpings... and so did all the adults.


Summer Pasta
This is extremely easy to make, and while the sauce doesn't require cooking, it's a little more "done" and "saucy" than a pasta salad or pasta primavera. You can substitute any sort of bitter greens for the arugola-- the important thin is that the pecorino and bitter greens combine to give the sauced a kick, while the sweet/acid of the tomatoes mellows that out. Olive Oil binds it all together.

Ingredients
6 oz Pecorino
2 oz Parmesan
2 bunches Arugola or other mixed bitter greens
Sea salt
12 oz Tomatoes (use the tastiest ones you can find-- cherry, heirloom, etc-- whatever it takes. In a pinch I've used a can of Muir Glen)
1/2 c Olive Oil
1 lb Rigatoni

Directions
Shave 4 oz of the Pecorino into a large serving bowl. Rinse and spin the Greens, and tear/shred to bite size if necessary; Add to the bowl. Add salt.
Roughly chop the tomatoes and add them and their juices to the bowl, add a little more salt (this will help bring out the juice). Let sit for at least 10 minutes and up to 30.
Meanwhile, bring water for pasta to a boil, and add Rigatoni; cook as package directs.
Grate the remaining Pecorino, grate the parmesan, combine in a separate bowl.
2 Minutes before the pasta is ready, add the olive oil to the other ingredients and stir together.
Drain pasta and add to ingredients, toss to blend. Serve at he table and pass the additional cheese to top individually.

I went to Craft Night at Jordan Ferney’s studio last night, which was a lot of fun... interesting people to meet, fun snippets of conversation to overhear, and I made huge progress on the hat J asked for (maybe I really will make him a sweater for Christmas!). I really enjoyed being around the group of women working on and expressing their creative ideas.

But really, this post isn’t about any of that.....

I didn’t have time to make the peanut-sesame cookies I’d planned (even though they are so fast!) so I stopped and picked up some Kika’s Treats... lucky for me (my excuse for eating some...)! They were the hit of the night.

I am always so proud of the work La Cocina does, and so happy to be able to introduce new people to the results. Not just because years ago I helped babysit Caleb(!), but also to think my small, random, intermittent volunteering efforts there maybe help another woman realize her (delicious) dreams... or even just the occasional purchase.

Somedays I am so glad to live in San  Francisco.... even if we don't get summer!


image copyright Kika's Treats

I didn’t use to like Mexican food. I write this with some trepidation, as I live in a large Hispanic community that is grappling with an increasing number of anglo residents, in a larger geographic area that was once part of Mexico... and it just feels disrespectful and unwilling.

Having lived here for about 4 years and in San Francisco for 10 and in California for almost 11 years, I can safely say that what gets sold on the East Coast isn’t really Mexican food, and what gets sold in chain restaurants is just accented fast food, and what gets sold North of Market Street, even, is pretty different.

About 7 years ago after watching the Shawshank Redemption for about the 20th time, M and I hopped on a plane and went to Zihuatanejo (clearly, before J was born,when we were still able to do things like that). And I can safely say I love Pacific Coast- Mexican. Tacos al Pastor. Fish Tacos. Camerones ala Plancha. The best Pina Colada I ever had. Coming home, I branched out, fell in love with La Altena. It turns out I like Mexico City food, too. I learned that lime and cilantro are usually fresh ingredients, not everything is smothered in cheese, and there is a wide range of spice (actually, I don’t think authentic Mexican food is too terribly spicy, not the way Thai or Szechuan can be).

And I have a confession: I like some faux (or faux-ish) Mexican food, too. Around the time J was born  I became addicted to a torta con chorizo verde from Nopalito (very North of Market, also, on the way to the Zoo... an easy habit to make). And try as I might I couldn’t find chorizo verde at Casa Lucas or La Palma, or anywhere else in the Mission.

And a straight google search didn’t turn up anything.

But recently, at our newly reopened library, I saw a copy of Diana Kennedy’s The Art of Mexican Cooking. While I’ve long heard of this book, new it was the “bible” of Mexican cooking, it had never occurred to me to look at it before. I don’t know why.

Anyway, she has a recipe, which I tweaked a little, and we made buns, and I bought some avocados and cabbage and made some salsa, and a corn salad, and J and I made some Watermelon Agua Fresca and I peeled a Mango for desert and it was the best dinner we’ve had in a while.

Chorizo Verde for burgers or tacos
Adapted from The Art of Mexican Cooking. I didn’t stuff and cure these, which you would do for real chorizo, but this preparation was great as a burger (tasted exactly like the sandwiches), leftovers were fantastic in a chorizo scramble, and tacos would totally work with this mixture too-- easy to crumble without drying out too much.

1 lb ground pork
2 oz pork fat (ground fat, or really finely chopped uncured bacon, pork belly, prosciutto, guanciale, etc. would work)
1/2 cup white vinegar (apple cider or rice wine work, too)
1 bay leaf
6 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
1 tsp dried oregano
3 cloves
5 peppercorns
1/2 tbs sea salt
1/4 tsp cumin
1/4 tsp coriander seeds
1 serrano or other small, slim green chile, chopped
1 c loosely packed, roughly chopped cilantro (or 3/4 cilantro, and a 1/4 mix of mint, basil, parsley)
1 bunch swiss chard

Directions
Steam or Boil Chard for approximately 6 minutes, drain and cool, then steam and roughly chop. Set aside.
Combine the garlic cloves, oregano, cloves, peppercorns, sea salt, cumin, coriander in a mortar an pestle and grind until loosely combined.
Set aside.
Put the vinegar in a blender and add the mortared spices, bay leaf, and chili and blend as finely as possible. Possible you could do this all in a mortar and pestle, or the mortar and pestle stuff all in the blender-- but my mortar is too small, and the blender didn’t seem to pound the spices well enough/too my liking.
Add the cilantro, then the chard, making sure that each ingredient is well incorporated before adding the next. You want to turn this into a paste, as much as you can.
Mix the fat and the pork together in a bowl, then add the spice paste, working it in by hand until evenly distributed.
Cover the bowl and marinate 2-24 hours. Form sausages or cook loose, and enjoy.

J and I made Watermelon Agua Fresca to have with chorizo verde. Also, we made it because the Watermelon was about to go bad. I poured the leftovers into pop molds that night. All in all, this recipe made us very happy.

Watermelon Agua Fresca
2 Watermelons
2 Plums
1/2 c Turbinado sugar
Juice of 2 limes
1/2 c water
1/2 tbs cinnamon

Directions
Chop the plums, and combine with the sugar, 1/2 the juice, and the water in a saucepan over low heat.
Meanwhile, “peel” the watermelons. In the blender, roughly chop about half of it, then set aside. Puree the other half.
Add the reserved juice and puree some more. Strain the puree.
Combine the pureed watermelon with the chopped watermelon and add the cinnamon.
Bring the syrup to a boil, remove from heat and let cool for about 10 minutes-- mash down the plums a little.
Once cool, combine the syrup with the watermelon.

You could add more or less sugar, to taste, or replace the sugar with a bit of substitute-- not corn syrup or honey.

I am getting into a groove with cooking with J. Since the pesto pasta experiment, we’ve made feel-better pops (inspired by this post, but I tweaked the recipe: 50% low-sugar cranberry juice, 50% echinacea tea, 100 drops of dandelion extract, a tablespoon of honey), watermelon agua fresca, and Monday night, pasta alle noci.

These recipes are all basically blender/one pot and/or food processor recipes. So I just chop up the ingredients, have them lined up in a series of bowls, and J feeds them in, one by one.

It’s fun, not too messy, and the added benefit is he eats a lot of whatever it is he helps make. And says “I did it myself” a lot, too. Very cute.

Pasta alle Noci
This is a dish I grew up eating on Sunday afternoons at a countryside restaurant. It was served VERY homestyle and I imagine it was made with a mortar and pestle. I think the nuts must have bene a blend of hazelnuts and walnuts, too. It was served on a long thick noodle,maybe all gitarra, or perciatelli size. But as with other pasta recipes, I make this with a short tube so J can feed himself, like penne rigate for this sauce.

Ingredients
1 c walnuts
2 cloves garlic
1 tsp sea salt
1 c heavy cream (NOT whipping cream)
1/4 c pecorino
black pepper
1 lb pasta
1/2 c pecorino and parmesan, mixed

Directions
Toast the walnuts on a baking sheet in a 350 degree oven for about 10 minutes; set aside to cool while you prepare the other ingredients.
Peel 2 cloves of garlic and and combine in food processor with the salt.
Add the walnuts, barely process to chop nuts.
Add cream, mix quickly (can be by hand or with blade).
Add pecorino.
Blend for about 2 minutes
Taste and add pepper-- it should be a little spicy.
Blend some more until you have a thick, whipped sauce-- only til that point, don’t keep processing once it is whipped.
Meanwhile, cook the pasta.
Drain the pasta lightly (ok if there is still some water) and mix in the sauce. Add a little of the blended cheese if needed, up to 1/4 cup. Serve, and pass the extra cheese for each to top their pasta with.