Pho (Vietnamese-Style Beef Noodle Soup)

I've only had pho in a restaurant once, but it was a memorable experience. Our party was seated at a table that had a hole in the middle--a hole, it turns out, that was for a basin of hot, rich, beefy broth. We were given platters of soup ingredients--fragrant mint, cilantro and basil, thinly sliced raw beef, piles of bean sprouts and other veggies, wedges of lime. The mission? Construct your own pho by cooking (or not cooking) veggies and meat to your satisfaction, and creating your very own individualized soup.

That was at a Vietnamese restaurant perched on the edge of Boston's Chinatown in 1998 , and I've been longing for those particular flavors ever since.

Why then, why did it take me so long to turn my attention to Pho?

Readers, this recipe isn't online but because it's so delicious and so easy I'm going to replicate it here. Don't be intimidated by the long-ish list of ingredients--the pay-off is worth it!

6 oz rice stick noodles (vermicelli, I used some other rice noodle thing I had kicking around)

1/4 lb snow peas, cut diagonally into 1/4-inch wide strips

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1 cup sliced shallots (three large)

3 (1/8 inch thick) slices fresh ginger, smashed

1 teaspoon minced Serrano chili (including seeds, I used a jalapeno)

3 1/2 cups beef stock or store-bought broth

1 3/4 cups water

1/2 lb thinly sliced rare roast beef, torn into pieces

6 oz fresh bean sprouts (mung) rinsed

1/4 cup loosely packed fresh cilantro

1/4 cup loosely packed fresh basil

1/4 cup loosely packed fresh mint

3 tablespoons Asian fish sauce

3 tablespoons fresh lime juice

Salt

lime wedges

Cook noodles in boiling water for 4 minutes--add snow peas and cook for 1 minute longer. Drain and rinse under cold water to stop the cooking, and drain again. Divide noodles/snowpeas into 4 large soup bowls.

Dry noodle pan, add oil and turn on moderate heat. Add shallots, ginger and chile, and cook (stirring) until shallots are brown (7-8 mins.) Add stock and water, bring to a simmer and simmer for 10 mins.

Meanwhile, divide beef, sprouts and herbs among soup bowls.

Remove ginger from broth and stir in fish sauce, lime juice and salt to taste. Ladle broth into bowls and serve immediately with lime wedges.

This recipe is killer, and it would be a perfect week to make it, what with the INCESSANT RAIN. Of course it's the fresh herbs that make it so intoxicating--if you're one of those folks who can't stand fresh herbs, what's wrong with you? Go eat a Lean Cuisine, I guess.

What makes this a quick/easy version of pho is that you're using store-bought broth instead of slaving over your own (real beef broth ain't that quick/easy), and rare deli roast beef instead of carpaccio, which is thinly sliced raw beef. The Gourmet staff amp up the broth by simmering it with goodies--ginger, shallots and chile.

And--with summer (kind of) here, or at least spring, fresh herbs should be cheap and in abundance. We do container gardening on our deck and I'll confess I went a little bananas at the plant nursery on Mother's Day and got 4 kinds of mint, among other things. 4 kinds of mint! I bet you didn't know 4 kinds of mint existed--they do and more. Chocolate, orange, spearmint and what they were labeling Mojito Mint. Yeah baby! Watch this space for mojitos and more.

Ambrosia from Gourmet Today

Mention Ambrosia to anybody from Down South and you'll conjure up images of a sweet treat--a Cool-Whip based dessert that has some fruit and coconut thrown in. Oranges (canned mandarin orange slices), pineapple (canned, crushed), cherries (maraschino)--oh, and mini marshmallows are all necessary ingredients. And coconut. Here are some pics from an image search for Ambrosia Salad:

My mom's spin on this regional fave was to add pistashio pudding powder to the Cool-Whip. You get what I'm talking about, right? Buy a box of Jell-O pistashio-flavored pudding, and instead of making pudding with it, just mix the powder into the Cool-Whip.

As kids, we adored this dessert. And the irony that it's called Ambrosia Salad will not be lost on anybody who has visited the South or the Heartland. My friend Elizabeth likes to tell the story about one of her first visits to her husband's Pennsylvania kin--at a mid-day outdoor picnic she was asked to go inside and get the salad. She wandered around the kitchen, mystefied by the lack of anything involving lettuce...turns out she was supposed to fetch something like this:

Gourmet Today has updated Ambrosia by stripping it down to the flavor essentials of citrus and coconut. On the face of it this looks easy, except it involves a real coconut--not a bag of the shredded, sweetened stuff.

Coconuts are not always around in the markets here, but I had recently seen coconuts in a display case when I was lunching at Rawbert's Organic Garden Cafe and figured I could buy one there. These coconuts are prepped by (I guess) somebody hacking away the outer green shell but leaving some of the husk that protects the brown shell and good stuff inside. This somebody with a machete also cuts a star pattern in the top which helps you get inside. I'm speculating, but it helped me.

Once I drained the water (and drank it--yummy!) I was at a loss as to how to best open this thing--the recipe has you bake the coconut and then crack it with a hammer, but they were talking about the brown coconut you'd buy in a market. I had a slightly different and better protected beast on my hands.

Finally I just went with the hammer approach and used the claw end to pry my way in.

I'm not sure if you can tell from the pic, but this coconut was soft and pliable--totally different from any coconut product I'd ever seen. It reminded me of a floppy latex mold. The recipe asks you to shred the coconut but that would be impossible unless I put some effort into dehydrating it first. I decided to julienne it as thinly as I could.

The rest is easy, a little sugar and some cream sherry (because everything is better with booze.) I made this dessert for my meditation group--we have a lunchtime potluck afterwards and one of the members is gluten-sensitive. It could have been the post-meditation high, but I thought it was delicious.

Thanks to Top 50 States, Wizard Recipes, All Occassion Catering, ifood.tv and Paris Hotel Boutique Journal for image grabs.

Grilled Pork Tenderloin with Mojo Sauce

If you've never heard of mojo sauce, we're in the same boat. And although readers of a certain era will never be able to make or even read about this sauce without a certain Doors song refraining in their minds, it has nothing to do with L.A. women, at least not in the way you're thinking of.

In fact, mojo sauce hails from points south (Canary Islands, Cuba, Puerto Rico) and at base is olive oil, garlic and citrus juice. According to Wikipedia, the most popular use of mojo sauce seems to be pepping up cooked potatoes and other tubers though it appears to be making inroads in BBQ land.

Grilled pork tenderloin is not a tuber, but why not throw these two together--a nice lean grilled meat and some peppy sauce. Sounds like a good idea, right?

I guess the answer is, it depends. Grilled Pork Tenderloin with Mojo Sauce is quick, yes--easy to prepare, yes. Also extremely garlicky, because the body of this sauce is essentially garlic (4 cloves garlic, a little oregano, orange juice and olive oil)

And for me this might not normally be a problem except I was traveling the next day to a day-long karate workshop--and transporting my sensei and two other karate students.

That's right. Sweat, close quarters and guests in an unfamiliar place. Add garlic and you've got fun.

I scraped most of the garlic off my pork--which leads me to my one critique of the recipe. The sauce would have been better pureed in a microblender--chunky bits of raw garlic (no matter how well smooshed) are unpalatable, at least to me. An image search of mojo sauce shows a smooth puree, so I'm not the first one to come up with this idea.

However--had it been a puree, I wouldn't have been able to negotiate around it. So there's that.

The workshop was anything but a social disaster (you'll be happy to hear), and if the car ride was unpleasant my karateka comrades were too polite to mention it.

But when I got home? My husband said, "Wow, you smell like you've been working out!"

Yup, something like that!

P.S. Observant readers will wonder why the mojo sauce in the picture is reddish--the oranges I had in the house were blood oranges, which have beautiful, ruby-colored juice.

Scallops with Mushrooms and Sherry from Gourmet Today

My husband and I hosted my parents for Easter dinner and we had Scallops with Mushrooms and Sherry (along with some of the other foods you've been reading about here lately.) Scallops certainly aren't a traditional Easter offering, but we're not really a traditional kind of family. Don't believe me? My father, who served as an officer in the US Army for 21 years, used to play the guitar and sing The Draft Dodger Rag at every extended family gathering.

This is a pretty easy recipe that falls into the sear protein/make pan sauce/finish protein category, and the only hurdle really is having all your ingredients at hand so you can make the pan sauce quickly. Sometimes this can be challenging if you're hosting a dinner party--I don't know about you, but I find it difficult to cook and talk (and drink) at the same time. In spite of my friend Moira's dedicated belief that I should be the next Food Network superstar, I'm pretty sure I would be terrible at cooking while on camera. Although in Julia Child's case, her blunders made for great TV so what do I know?

Anyway, don't look for me on TV anytime soon--and check out this recipe for a quick-yet-fancy dinner.

Roasted Asparagus with Shallots and Sesame Seeds

It's spring! That means it really truly is asparagus season, which is flooding the markets from points south. And while it's not popping out of the ground quite yet here in New England, there's no reason you shouldn't start enjoying the bounty now.

Roasted Asparagus with Shallots and Sesame Seeds is one of three asparagus recipes in Vegetable chapter of The Gourmet Cookbook (the yellow one), and it's a perfectly respectable way to prepare this vegetable. If you understand all the words in the recipe title, you've got the gist--asparagus is roasted in the oven and tossed with its friends minced shallots and (lightly toasted) sesame seeds. A little more roasting, a little squeeze of lemon juice and you've got yourself a side dish.

Happy Spring!

Pistachio Schadenfreude, or Melissa Learns a New Vocabulary Word

There's a handful of foreign-born words in use by the literati that's a little...hazy. In my own mind, that is. It took me decades to finally remember what sturm und drang means (and I only remember now because "sturm" is much like "storm")--I saw it in use so rarely that it took a while to stick.

So I was a little suspicious of Pistachio Semifreddo, at least of the name. But the head notes in Gourmet Today are reassuring--semifreddo means "half-cold"--that seems easy enough, right? Like semisweet chocolate. (Though it must be noted that I've told everybody since I made this dish that semifreddo means "half-soft". WHATEVA, foreign-born words! I really am trying!)

This is a delicious dessert. Man is it easy, and if I were a dedicated ice cream eater I would throw away my ice cream maker (pain in the tuckus) because this technique rocks.

Here it is--grind pistachios with sugar. Whip egg whites with sugar. Whip heavy cream with almond extract. Fold all three together. Freeze. The result is creamy and light at the same time and of course pistachios are awesome.

If you've never heard of semifreddo, you might be wondering if you could make it with something besides pistachios--and the answer is yes! Epicurious has three pages of recipes --everything from grappa semifreddo to banana-peanut.

You might be wondering now about the title of this blog post, which is neither sturm und drang OR semifreddo. Well, it's because I was in a conversation that went like this:

My husband: What's the name of that dessert? It means something like "world weariness, right?"

Me: O_o

My husband: Shu...Sha...

Me: Do you mean shadenfreude?

My husband: Yes.

Me: No. The name of the dessert is "semifreddo". It means half-soft, not world weariness.

My husband: Are you sure?

Me: Of course I'm sure! Why would somebody name a dessert Pistachio World Weariness?

My husband: I don't know...maybe you eat it when you're weary?

Then I looked up Shadenfreude because I didn't know exactly what it meant but I see it slung around from time to time when people are trying to look smart (talking to you, book critics)

Hey, guess what? Shadenfreude does NOT mean world weariness, it means "pleasure derived from the misfortune of others". For some reason, the idea of hanging this concept on a dessert makes me laugh, probably because I'm immature enough to enjoy the idea of somebody getting their just desserts.

Artichokes with Garlic Pimiento Vinaigrette

As I have (probably) mentioned elsewhere on this blog when the subject of artichokes comes up, I was raised eating artichokes one way, and one way only: steamed, with a ramekin on the side of melted butter liberally salted and lemoned.

Eating artichokes this way is one of the purest pleasures on earth--a slow scraping of each individual leaf, then freeing the heart from its prickly mantle and devouring it in quarters in the last dredges of milky, lemony butter.

It's inconceivable to me that anybody would want to eat artichokes any other way, but apparently they do. Here's one of those other ways--Artichokes with Garlic Pimiento Vinaigrette.

This recipe has you steam artichokes in the usual way, but only after you trim them and extricate the choke with a melon baller. This is, my lambs, easier said than done--depending on how farm-fresh your artichoke is, you might have a struggle getting those inner leaves pried open enough to scrape out the choke. I did and was none too happy about it. BUT it's always good to have an opportunity to trot out your most creative swear words.

While they're steaming you'll make the vinaigrette--a pleasant garlic/oil/vinegar brightened up with chopped pimientos and parsley. It makes for pretty plate! I couldn't bring myself to serve the artichokes cold (for me cold food requires 80 degree days) so mine were warm-ish, and although my dinner companions ate these up (and so did I) frankly I like them better served hot with lemon butter. Sorry.

Exciting late-breaking Artichoke News: while exchanging tales of Easter dinners in the break room at work, one of my co-workers mentioned his mother's stuffed artichoke recipe--bready and garlicky and buttery. That sounds like something I can get behind--Mike, please ask your mom for the recipe!

Balsamic-Glazed Pork Chops from Gourmet Today

I've always been on the fence about pork chops. Center-cut chops especially are so lean and finely textured that even when NOT overcooked they seem dry and bland.

Balsamic-Glazed Pork Chops is a pretty good remedy for this situation, and it's quick enough to be a weeknight dinner. I'm a fan of any meal that can be cooked in one vessel--in this case it's a big ole frying pan, stovetop.

What was different about this dish for me was the treatment of the shallots (or in my case white boiling onions since shallots were unfindable at the market last night)--you peel but leave the root end intact--then quarter. Those go in the pan with the chops and the time it takes to sear both sides of the meat is also about the time it takes to get some carmelizing action on the onions.

2/3 cup balsamic vinegar + a little sugar serves to deglaze the pan, and in just a few minutes you've got a nice thick glaze to coat your chops as you finish them.

My favorite part of this was the onions--they were tangy and jammy. Balsamic vinegar is really pretty amazing for the flavors you can get out of it. I'm still not completely sold on pork chops, but I enjoyed this preparation.

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If you've been enjoying my journey cooking through The Gourmet Cookbook and Gourmet Today, you'll also like The Gourmet Project, where Teena has been doing the same thing (minus Gourmet Today).

In fact, Teena is very close to being done! She's a mere 25 recipes or so away from having cooked through the ENTIRE Gourmet Cookbook. Considering that there are roughly 1300 recipes in that book, this is quite a feat! She thought she would be relieved to be done with such a huge undertaking, but finds that she's actually kind of sad. She's mulling over whether or not to be crazy some more and embark on cooking through Gourmet Today.

I say, of course! I need company in my craziness! So do a girl a favor and go over to The Gourmet Project and tell Teena she should do it.

Romaine, Radish and Cucumber Salad with Tahini Dressing from Gourmet Today

Let's face it. You're not bored with salads, you're bored with the dressing you choose over and over again. Maybe you're in the balsamic vinaigrette camp. Maybe you're in the Ken's Light Italian Dressing Camp. Or maybe (horrors!) you're in raspberry or poppyseed land. Wherever you are, it ALL TASTES THE SAME. Am I right?

Throw off the shackles of your self-imposed salad dressing servitude and try something new. Romaine, Radish and Cucumber Salad with Tahini Dressing is (probably) a new flavor profile for you to try, unless you are in the habit of hanging out at falafel carts.

A little hazy on what tahini is, exactly? It's sesame seed paste, and it is to Middle Eastern cuisines what peanut butter is to American households--wildly popular and used in practically everything, though it must be said I've never heard of a tahini and jelly sandwich. Are you a fan of hummus? You've had tahini. It's in your supermarket--just head down the exotic ingredient aisle and look for the Greek/Middle Eastern section. Here's a pic:

So, forget about the salad part here--this dressing could really go on any veggies. The ones listed are fine but you could also try tomato, olives, endive, mushrooms, raw bell peppers, baby spinach, carrots, and sugar snap peas. And if you have a micro-blender (like Magic Bullet) it's ideal for blending this up quickly--and you will need a blender because of the garlic.

The recipe helpfully points out that the salad is delicious stuffed in a pita for a nice lunch. I concur!

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If you are a fan of a) cook-through blogging b) chick flicks c) Julia Child d) meta-anything and e) for the lulz...I have an absurd yet somehow completely riveting blog for you to follow. Please meet Lawrence, college student somewhere on the West Coast (I think) who has decided to watch Julie and Julia every day for one year and blog about it in The Lawrence/ Julie and Julia Project.

Why somebody would take on such a masochistic task is beyond me (the movie has infiltrated his dreams) but somehow, every day he manages to see the movie (or parts of it anyway) from a different and often very funny slant. I doubt anybody except the director and the producer of Julie and Julia has paid such close attention to the details. And although I'm pretty sure Lawrence will never become a chef (or cook-through blogger) himself, he surely has the makings of a great project manager, as in tenacious, detail-oriented and a glutton for punishment. Alternatively, maybe he has a future in Hollywood. Who knows?

P.S. Readers with delicate sensibilities please be advised: Lawrence is a college-aged male. That means he refers to porn, has tried his hand at erotica featuring Julia and Paul Child, and swears a lot. There is also, inexplicably, a photo of him making out with a giant bag of chopped onions. Nope, not kidding.

Negroni from Gourmet Today

Since I (now) work as a copywriter, I have an especial fondness for copy written well. Both of the Gourmet cookbooks satisfy on this count, and the head notes for Negroni are a perfect example.

As Italian as a Vespa but with more bracing zip, the Negroni is not for the faint of heart.

This is a perfect sentence. In only 19 words it gives you the pedigree of the drink, a little frisson of danger--AND it manages to be snarky (but only if you're experienced enough with scooters to get the joke.)

Anonymous Gourmet copywriters, wherever you now are--thank you. You've added an extra layer of pleasure to this awesome, self-appointed cook-through task of mine.

A Negroni is made up of gin, Campari and sweet vermouth in equal parts--which makes it super easy to remember and scale up or down as your needs dictate. If you are in the cocktail-drinking set, you're probably familiar with gin and possibly sweet vermouth (read an excellent article on vermouth here), but not too many folks seem to know exactly what Campari is, or what you might use it for.

You can use it to turn into a fairy:

A modern-day Ethel Merman:

A clown:

or a lover:

Doesn't it make you want to run right out and buy a bottle of the stuff? All well and good but be warned: our anonymous copywriter was correct--this stuff is NOT for the faint of heart. It's unbelievably bitter (maybe more so for me since I'm a SUPERTASTER) and needs moderating agents.

What's in it? According to Wikipedia it's an infusion of herbs and fruit--the red color comes (or used to come) from carmine, a dye made from crushed cochineal insects. Another tidbit from the interwebs--the inventor of this strange brew, Gaspare Campari, was a master drink maker at a bar in Turin by the age of 14. Take that, MCAS.

Why drink it? Well, why black coffee, hoppy beer, or 80% dark chocolate? A little bit of torture and even more pleasure.

This is the only recipe in the book that uses campari (though there's a recipe for Campari and grapefruit granita in the yellow book) but rest assured there are plenty more if you spring for a bottle--everything from a Malaria Killer to Fancy Nancy.

How is the Negroni? Well, it's bitter! But not unbearably so--I like these and have added them to my cocktail repertoire.