A Day In the Life

I've noticed many people in my life think that working in the food media world is exciting and slightly glamorous and super fun. OK...there may be days just like that but other days it really is like a lot of other jobs filled with deadlines, salary negotiations, office conflict and work that you are just not in the mood to do!

When I am writing and editing, it's just me, my computer and something snackable near by. Sometimes I talk out loud. Sometimes I talk to the errant spider I somehow always seem to find lurking in a corner. It's far from glamorous. If I'm really focused I will treat myself to some music while I work.

When I am developing recipes away from home, it can be a fun and busy environment. I am mostly on my feet, hopping from a computer where I write and research the recipes, to the kitchen itself where I gather and cook ingredients, to the tasting room where I sample too much of everyone's delicious work that day. The days fly by and I always finish the day feeling full and tired.

The wild card day is when I am working as a food stylist. As a food stylist, it is your job to do whatever needs to be done to make the food look captivating, mouth watering and casually perfect. This can mean anything from doing some on-camera hand modeling, to stuffing pies with reconstituted mashed potatoes (so they hold their shape) to gently arranging a pile of vegetables with a pair of tweezers so they lay just so for the camera. It can take some practice to understand that what might look nice to the naked eye might not look right from behind the camera. Common food styling tools include: q-tips, wooden skewers, distilled white vinegar, tweezers, straight pins, assorted sizes of paint brushes, vegetable oil, Windex and paper towels. Keep in mind these are just the basics and this list has whittled down over the last decade as the trend in food styling has veered towards a more natural perfectly imperfect look.

I'm not normally this red...those lights were hot!

In this lovely candid shot, I was tasked to climb on the counter to garnish a dish for a video shot. The lighting was so perfect on the dish, we didn't want to move it. So that I meant I had to go to the dish! Since all you saw was the tips of my fingers sprinkling some breadcrumbs and parsley, it looked totally natural and pretty, even though I was clearly not feeling overly natural or pretty. It even had my colleague giggling.





So there you have a brief glimpse into what some of my days are like. It can be fun, challenging, boring, exhausting, creative or redundant. Just like your job, right?

Chocolate: my first love

I can link chocolate to many of my childhood memories. My uncle giving me a Cadbury hollow Easter egg filled with chocolate roses for Easter. Helping my mom decorate her infamous gingerbread houses (an excuse to sneak tastes of the decorations) and patiently laying the chocolate mint "shingles" for the roof. Sorting through Godiva gift boxes my dad would receive as gifts at work for the best flavors. And, of course, baking up cookies and cakes in the kitchen for special desserts.

Before working with food became my career, I never thought about chocolate on a deeper level. I liked it. I ate it. Simple. Once I started developing recipes, especially sweets, I started to realize just how tricky chocolate can be. For example, I've tasted brownies with tons of chocolate in the batter that somehow manage to bake up more sugary than chocolaty and I've had more than my share of underbaked greasy treats claiming to be gooey or fudgy. They really just give you a stomachache. Too much cocoa powder can feel like you are biting into bitter dust and too much milk chocolate can make your back teeth ache without really satisfying. And that is just the flavor side of things. The technical side of chocolate can be even more challenging.

When my older sister and I would help our mom bake desserts for Christmas, one of our favorites were Nanaimo bars. A no-bake Canadian classic layered bar cookie that is topped with a mixture of melted chocolate and butter. One year my older sister was tasked to make the final layer. For some reason, her chocolate completely seized on her and turned into a mess of unspreadable chocolate instead of the intended smooth glossy product. Much teasing ensued...I'm talking for the next 3 or 4 Christmas's she was not allowed near the chocolate. [I'd like to pause and shout out to my sister Jen who is a great baker and note that this story is not a representation of her skills.] The truth of the matter is that it could have happened to any of us. Maybe the bowl wasn't properly cleaned. Maybe she accidentally dripped a drop of water in the mixture or it was on her spatula. It is easier to have a glitch with chocolate than without sometimes.

I learned how true that statement is when I was assigned to develop a chocolate bark recipe at work last year. After much work, failure and research, I finally came up with a method that takes patience, but not a candy thermometer. This might help my family understand why they all got the gift of chocolate bark this year!

So here is a step-by-step to help you make some chocolate bark: perfect for a holiday, gift or just because you love chocolate!

STEP 1: CHOP YOUR CHOCOLATE

You can start with any amount of good quality chocolate (no chips - no checkout candy bars) but the important thing is to chop it finely and make sure the pieces are uniform so it melts at a consistent rate.




STEP 2: PUT 2/3 OF THE CHOCOLATE IN A CLEAN HEATPROOF BOWL
 
Keep the rest of the chocolate near by and heat a few inches of water in a pot until steaming. Only steaming, no bubbles. Put a kitchen towel a few layers of paper towels on the counter next to the stove.


STEP 3: START MELTING

Put the bowl over the steaming water and start melting the chocolate, stirring often with a rubber spatula so you can scrape the bottoms and sides of the bowl. Every few minutes, pick up the bowl and make sure the water in the pot is not bubbling. The goal is to melt the chocolate very slowly so that it melts without ever getting hot. If you remove the bowl from the pot, set it down on your towels next to the stove so the condensation of the bottom of your bowl does not drip into the chocolate.



 
STEP 4: ADDING THE RESERVED CHOCOLATE

As the chocolate starts to melt, add a few pieces at a time of the reserved chocolate. This helps keep the temperature of the melting chocolate from getting too hot. The mixture should always look like a mixture of chunky and smooth textures. If it's looking too smooth and you still have reserved chocolate, get that bowl off the pot and add some chocolate!

 


STEP 5: FINISH MELTING AND FLAVOR

Once you have added all the reserved chocolate and your mixture looks like the above photo, remove it from the pot of steaming water (onto your towel) and continue to stir as it melts. You can return the bowl to the heat from time to time for about 10 second intervals until, finally, it's all melted. If you want to add an extract, such as vanilla, peppermint, raspberry or coffee, add it now and stir just to combine it.


STEP 6: POUR AND TOP

Pour your chocolate into a foil lined baking sheet or dish (shiny side up) or, if you like free form, right onto a flat piece of foil and gently spread to however thick you like. Top your bark with any crunchy toppings or sprinkles you like. I topped mine with some chopped cookies in this batch, but nuts, coconut, dried fruit are all great. Just don't pick anything that will get really stale or melt.




STEP 7: WAIT AND BREAK

Let the chocolate harden at room temperature. If you didn't rush the melting process and your chocolate stayed "in temper" it will harden pretty quickly. It will lose the wet shiny look and become mat. Let it sit at least an hour to make sure it has hardened through the center. Then, the fun part, peel back the foil and start breaking into fun pieces. If you have extras, store at room temperature in an airtight container. It can last a few weeks but I doubt there will be any left by then.

Stewing

As a freelancer, the beginning of a new year is a patternable slow time of year for assignments so I try to take this pocket of time to set new goals and evaluate where I am professionally and where I want to go. Every year it seems there will be plenty of time to network and plan, but once the pace of the year picks up again, I find myself running at full steam just to manage work, home, friends and the semi-regular workout.

While things are slow I also take advantage of the extra time by preparing slightly more involved meals such as long simmering stews and braises. I absolutely adore braising and stewing. Paired with grilling they are my favorite ways to cook. They are a great way to produce big flavors with minimal  hands-on time.

Some people may not think of a stew or braised pot roast or brisket as being a dish with big flavors, but, in my opinion, that is all in the execution of the dish and not the technique itself. Braising and stewing are both wet cooking techniques in which ingredients are either partially or fully covered with liquid and slowly cooked. The idea of slow cooking meats, vegetables or beans is to bring out all of the natural flavors of the ingredients and have them blend with and absorb the flavors you are cooking them in. Flavor osmosis, if you will. A finished stew or braise is way more than the sum of its parts. Instead of having a dish of individual flavors that are compatible, you have a dish of mixed ingredients that have an identity of their own while still tasting a bit like everything else in the pot.





the building blocks...

The key to a tender braise or stew is to allow yourself plenty of time and to keep it simmering low and slow, resisting the urge to turn up the heat the closer it gets to dinner time. One day a piece of beef chuck might be meltingly tender in 2 hours and another day it could take 3 hours. The key to good flavor is all about seasoning. I season my raw ingredients generously, I reseason about halfway through the cooking time and I season again before serving. Also, I don't just season with salt and pepper. Fresh herbs benefit from being added at the beginning of the dish to start building layers of flavor, but also at the end so they are bright and more pronounced. I will also often add a dash of soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce and/or vinegar to the sauce at the beginning and the end. They have an umami quality that is all at once sweet, savory, salty and pungent. Start by adding a teaspoon at a time to your dish at the end and tasting. You will find that you don't taste the soy, Worcestershire or vinegar itself, but the dish somehow just tastes like a better version of itself. For a big pot, sometimes a teaspoon or two is all it takes. 

It might not look pretty but it sure tastes good...

There is no magic or forced rules about what ingredients you should use, but at the end of the simmering you will have a warm pot full of rich full flavors.                           

Sunday Supper

Here we are in a new year. Some people feel let down after all the excitement and indulgence of the last month or so and some people feel excited and recharged to make a new start of things, whether it is with diet, exercise or career goals.

Regardless of which way you lean, having a hearty Sunday supper is a great tradition to refuel, relax and enjoy as one week winds down and a new one gears up. The beauty of a Sunday supper is that it doesn't have to be anything you don't want it to be, other than a tasty meal that gives you a chance to pause in your week and relax. It can be about entertaining if you miss all the gatherings of the holidays, not getting out of your pj's if you need time to regroup and reevaluate or making an old family recipe that needs a bit more time than you can spare during the week.

One of my favorite things to make for a Sunday supper is roast chicken. It's easy, inexpensive and very comforting. Although there are many ways to roast a chicken, my favorite way is to roast pieces rather than a whole bird. Although you lose the ritual of carving the bird, I find cooking pieces produces a very crispy* skin and evenly cooked meat in less time.

Start by seasoning the pieces (I cut the breasts in half crosswise) very very generously with salt and pepper. Don't just sprinkle the top, really cover it well. I promise it will not be too salty. Dig out your biggest oven-proof skillet and get it nice and hot over medium-high heat and then add just a touch of olive oil since the chicken skin will render plenty more fat as it browns.

Add about half your pieces, skin side down, and let them cook undisturbed for about 5 minutes. Sometimes I have to leave the room for a minute to resist the urge to poke, prod or peak. I recommend this if you are fidgety like me. When the skin is beautifully golden brown and easily releases from the pan you can turn and brown the second side. This side doesn't take quite as long and will not get as crispy without the skin, except for the legs which is skin on all sides. Take an extra minute or two with the legs to get as many sides brown as possible. Transfer the chicken to a plate and repeat with the rest of the pieces, turning the heat down under your pan if you feel like it is going to burn rather than brown.

At this point it is important to look at the amount of fat in your pan. You really only need a few tablespoons for the leeks or onions and as delicious as all those drippings are, you don't want the end result to be greasy. Spoon off any excess so you have a few tablespoons left behind. Now add either one bunch of trimmed, washed and sliced leeks (white and light green only) or two large sliced onions. It will seem like more than you want, but it will cook down by more than half. Toss them well in the pan and add a pinch more salt and pepper and a sprinkling of your favorite herb (thyme, rosemary or sage all work great). Fresh is best but dried works well too. Sometimes I'll sneak in a touch of ground chipotle chili powder here for a bit of smoky heat, but that's just the culinary mutt in me barking.

When the leeks/onions are wilted, nestle the chicken pieces, skin side up, over top. It will be a little cozy but that's ok at this point. Put in a hot oven (425 will do) and let it all roast together. The leeks/onions will melt down and take on all the chickeny juices from the pieces sitting over top and will also keep the meat moist and the chicken will roast up very crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside.

I like to have some steamed rice or basic mashed potatoes to round out the plate but a piece of crusty bread would also be delicious. A homey meal like this can lift your spirits or steady your resolve. At the least, it will fill your tummy and put some leftovers in the fridge.

*Disclaimer: I may have used the word crisp a bit excessively to describe the chicken skin but I simply cannot take rubbery, flaccid, undercooked chicken skin. It utterly skeeves me out.

Comfort

For anyone living in the northeast, comfort is very important right now. For the millions of people who lost power, something as simple as a hot cup of coffee became a bright spot in an otherwise gloomy day. As soon as power returned, the supermarkets were packed with people looking to restock refrigerators and freezers, so they could provide some level of comfort for friends and family in the form of a hot meal.

Watching other people load up their shopping carts with everything from ramen noodles to canned Vienna sausages reminded me why comfort food is one of my least favorite categories of cuisine to develop. I love a hearty soup or a rich chocolate confection but I find the category itself to be a bit limiting and impersonal. The main reason people find comfort in a certain dish is not because it is rich, cheesy or crispy but because it hits a nerve and resonates with a certain memory and feeling. It takes them to a place and time where they felt happy and safe and, in my opinion, nothing could be more personal and subjective.

My own go-to comfort foods are a good example of this because of how varied and, some may feel, out of place they are. Scones, sweet milky tea, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (coconut-no nuts), heavily buttered crusty toast (sometimes with peanut butter as well), ice cream (any flavor will do - no nuts), spicy rice and beans (black beans - with shredded Cheddar cheese melted on top) and all potato and corn chips/snacks, to name a few. These foods instantly take me back to my childhood home, my grandmother's kitchen table, a sunny carefree day at the beach, my dorm room in college or my first apartment living in New York.

When it comes time to develop comfort food recipes, I feel like I'm stepping out of bounds. What if my readers hate peanut butter, think rice and beans are mush and could leave a steaming mug of tea to get cold without batting an eye? Not to mention that someone's idea of a comfort food can evolve through life. I used to loathe eggplant but just last night made a rich Thai curry with chicken and eggplant. The silky coconut milk and eggplant backed by bright ginger and spice from the curry paste warmed me from the tips of my toes through my satisfied belly.

As I watch the snow begin to fall on the next storm blowing through the northeast, I guess my take away is to realize that the content or recipes I create for those looking for comfort in their food will not resonate with everyone, but hopefully will resonate with someone.

On that note, I'm off to bake some oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (coconut - no nuts) to enjoy later with a hot cup of tea to help ease me through this next messy storm.

Homework

I have never really minded doing homework. I think it comes from the part of me that likes to see things through, from beginning to end. In school, that meant working on math problems until the formulas made sense or writing a paper for English that peeled apart the delicate layers of prose to reveal a greater meaning.

Whatever the exact reason for seeking a sense of closure or finality, it has extended into my work life. When I am tasked to brainstorm a project, research a story or develop a tricky recipe, I can not accept any result but the one that leaves me with a mental A+. It's kind of annoying.

The downside of working as a freelancer is that sometimes your time on a project runs out before you have reached the final stages and you have to leave the last bits of the puzzle to someone else. Although I have come to accept that, I often find myself continuing to mull it over in the days following. I may research why a quick bread didn't rise consistently, the origins of an ingredient that was new to me or if another method there was no time to try would have produced a better result. One colleague has, affectionately, referred to me as a bulldog when I get stuck on an issue. Somewhat stubborn and not willing to easily let go of the proverbial bone. What can I say? I can be stubborn and have a strong sense of intellectual curiosity. I have always wanted to know the why and not just the what.

One of the most frustrating things for someone like me to develop is a French macaron and this was one of my more recent challenges. The macaron is a crispy shelled chewy cookie made from egg whites, sugar and ground nuts. Although you could eat them plain, they are usually sandwiched with a creamy, chocolaty or fruity filling. They are currently enjoying fame in bakeries all around the country and have flavors ranging from basic vanilla to exotic rose, lemongrass, yuzu and licorice. They are cute, colorful 2 to 3 bite treats and I figured, how hard could they be?

Well.....that is an unusual question. It's not that the macaron is hard, it is that it is fickle and unpredictable. I read, in one of the many articles I plowed through about the subject, that even professional bakers end up discarding 20% of their macarons due to cracking, hollow centers or the lack of proper feet on the cookie. For those who have not yet been driven nuts (no pun intended) by the macaron, the foot refers to the signature crack that runs around the cookie, just above the base. Although a footless macaron can still be delicious, it just doesn't quite look right in my eyes. Like a cupcake without frosting or a meatloaf without a glaze.

It seemed as if for every problem there were two opposing solutions. For example, I read that if a macaron does not develop proper feet it could be that the piped cookies did not rest for long enough to create a skin on the outside. Or it could be that they rested too long and became firmly attached to the baking sheet. I read that if the macaron crack on top, your oven could be too hot. Or it could be too cold. Or it could have hot and/or cold spots. Seeing as how I didn't have a month to try every possible combination, I took my best educated guesses and continued on.

After much trial and error and sincere bewilderment I thought I had finally worked out a great recipe with helpful instructions, until the crosstest of the recipe failed. Although the issues in the recipe ultimately got worked out, my mind was still churning and I decided I had to make them at home just one more time for my own closure.

While I can't really share with you the recipe yet (I will update after it has been published) I thought I could at least share a few tips that I learned through the process:

1. Do some research. But not too much!
I found watching a video of the talented Joanne Chang making macarons to be very helpful. She is knowledgeable and approachable and made me feel like I, too, could make these cookies successfully. Do not follow up watching that video with hours of reading conflicting recipes, tips and claims of no-fail methods! You will be confused. Trust me. Try making them yourself and then if it doesn't go quite right, research from there.

2. Do not be fooled into folding your batter into a runny mess:
I read great deal about how to know when you have the correct texture of the batter which is essential for a successful cookie. Although the whipped egg whites are the structure of the cookie, when you fold in the ground nuts and confectioners' sugar, you need to deflate the egg whites to loosen the batter. Many people described the texture of the batter to be that of molten lava. But if you fold the batter to get to that point, by the time you actually get the batter into a pastry bag and piped out, it will be too runny and the cookies will be hollow inside and cracked on top. Err on the side of a stiffer batter because it will loosen as you work with it.

3. Don't expect perfection. It is how this cookie crumbles!
There are so many factors to a perfect macaron that are entirely dependent on an individual. For your oven and equipment, you may find better results if you use two baking sheets stacked on top of one another. You may want to adjust your oven temperature by 10 degrees up or down, or leave the oven cracked open with a wooden spoon. You may live in a humid environment and find you need to let them sit out for an hour instead of 20 minutes to let the skin develop. In the process of figuring this out , you will have imperfect macarons. It's ok. They are still cute and tasty and impressive. Enjoy the imperfections and chalk it up to experience!

From my oven of lovin'

Love is the buzz word of the week. It's ok. Valentine's Day can be a spectacle but it can also just be a day to take a pause and give an extra long hug to the ones you love from your sweetie to your friends to your family.

For those of us still sporting a few extra holiday pounds (ahem....), it can also be a tricky time with lavish displays of chocolate in every store and delicious looking chocolate recipes on every website. This year I decided to focus on the meal and enjoyed tasty dry aged rib eye steaks and a nice bottle of red wine instead of baking up a chocolate explosion. The problem is that I'm still feeling a nagging ache from my sweet tooth. And no, it's not a cavity...this time. I just realized that it has been a while since I have baked so why not extend the week of love and bake something tasty but not quite so decadent.

When I'm in the mood for a dessert that satisfies without bringing too much guilt I immediately go to a recipe for biscotti from my culinary school classes. A great deal of the recipes from the pastry and baking part of the curriculum are from the talented cookbook author and teacher Nick Malgieri as is this recipe for Biscotti Napoletani. It has no eggs, butter or oil. The only fat comes from the almonds in the dough which is lightly flavored with honey and ground cinnamon. Anyone who knows me knows how I feel about honey. Some of the almonds are finely ground while the remainder are left whole so the end result is a nubbly, crunchy treat.



Chocolate shavings get mixed in





Although the recipe is perfect the way it is, I sometimes change a few things and today was no exception. I added a few handfuls of finely chopped good bittersweet chocolate to the dry ingredients. I then mixed in the honey and water from the recipe and was ready to divide the dough into the two logs for baking when I had a second thought.




Since you have to divide the dough in half anyway, why not add one more ingredient to half the dough and end up with two flavors from the one batch. I poked around my cupboard and used tongs to get to the back of the top cabinet where I stash all my baking goodies and found some dried cherries I forgot I had. Perfect. I chopped up a handful of dried cherries and kneaded them into the second log of dough.


Ready for the first baking. Cherries on the left.

 After baking up golden brown and firm, the logs cool slightly and then get sliced and baked a second time until the cut sides feel dry and firm. As a disclaimer, I realize they are not really biscotti until they are baked the second time but they sure are tasty as a soft cookie after a single baking.


yummy. Ready for the second baking. Except for that little piece on the end...

*Note: This recipe was provided to us with the measurements in weight. It's the most precise way to bake as it does not allow for different ways of measuring flour and sugar and placing the bowl on a scale is actually faster then getting out your set of measuring cups. If you do not have a scale (you should get one) you can find services online to convert the weight to cups but there may be some change to the texture of the dough.

Biscotti Napoletani
Recipe courtesy of Nick Malgieri

10 ounces unbleached all-purpose flour
6 ounces granulated sugar
8 ounces unblanched almonds, 4 ounces finely ground and 4 ounces left whole
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3 fluid ounces honey
3 fluid ounces water

1. Combine all the ingredients except the honey and water in a mixing bowl and stir 1 minute or 2 to mix. Add the honey and water and stir until a firm dough forms.

2. Remove the dough from the bowl and divide in half. Roll each half into a log about 15 inches long. Put both logs, spaced well apart, on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper. Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes, or until well-risen, firm, and a dark gold.

3. Remove from the oven, cool the logs slightly, and place on a cutting board. Sliced the logs diagonally and at 1/2-inch intervals with a serrated knife. Return the cut biscotti to the pan, cut side down, and bake an additional 15 minutes, or until lightly colored and dry. Cool on the pan.

A Few of My Favorite Things

When I meet somebody new and they find out I work in food one of the first things they ask me is what I like to eat. I think they are expecting I am going to name some rare cheese that costs $50 an ounce and is matured in a volcanic cave under the ocean. They would be disappointed.
I do love food, but I am one of the plainest eaters around. I could have toast every morning for breakfast and be happy...on white bread...from the supermarket. I do not care for truffles, caviar or sea urchin which statement usually prompts a colleague to insist if I just try this specific kind or this specific preparation that it will change my mind. It won't. That's OK. I'll spend my money on good champagne instead. That...I like.
This is not to say I don't appreciate good quality or that I won't spend a little more on certain things that I really like. Last year I was gifted a bottle of smoked olive oil and loved how it could transform simple boiled lentils or greens so I bought some as Christmas gifts this year. It's just that I equally love such inexpensive plain things such as beans so much that I have been known to eat them straight out of a can in very generous amounts. I'm not planning to wrap those up as a gift anytime soon.
So I thought I would draft a short list of 10 of the foods I like the best and why. In no particular order and for the amusement of all:

1. Elderflower liqueur/syrup:
        It is such a unique floral-ish fruit-ish flavor that can stand up to strong flavors, like gin, but also blend with more delicate flavors without overpowering them. Delicious in a cocktail, mocktail or fruit salad. Yummy.
2. Beans:
        Beans really do have their own flavor. Vaguely nutty and earthy, I find them so satisfying and hearty. Cooked from dry or just from a can, I like them all. I also appreciate the huge difference between the firm chickpea, the creamy pinto bean and the slightly starchy black bean.
3. Peanut butter:
       It's sweet. It's savory. It's creamy. Sigh...I love it. I have it in oatmeal or toast for breakfast, with an apple for a snack and for dinner I have come to adding spoonfuls to my barbecue sauces, stir frys and Thai curries. It gives lovely body to the sauces and a rich mouth feel. I don't really go for the oil-on-top stir peanut butters as I find they can taste like dirt but I love how the bigger brands are making a natural version with just a few simple ingredients but still emulsified. I can find a way to eat some everyday.
4. Extra Sharp Cheddar Cheese:
      The king of all cheeses in my opinion. I took my love of Cheddar to a new place when living in Dublin and have found it is one of the cheeses that has really exploded in terms of varieties offered. There are farmhouse Cheddars, Irish Cheddars, aged Cheddars and the choice of mild, sharp, extra sharp and extra extra sharp in both white and orange. I do single out the extra sharp as the top choice for the face that it is creamy while still a bit firm, slightly crumbly and melts like a dream.
5. Orange colored artificially flavored snack foods:
       That's right. Doritos, Cheetos, Cheddar flavored potato chips, Popchips and rice cakes, Combos, Orange soda...I realize the word "food" should be used loosely with these, but they are such a guilty pleasure that I can not shake. It may all stem from a severe childhood allergy to food coloring where I couldn't have the majority of processed foods. After I grew out of it, I couldn't get enough. It's a rare treat now, but I still love them.
6. Gummy and chewy candies:
       I have plenty of fillings thanks to this love. Haribo is a brand of particular enjoyment of gummies but I will also go for the candies from Chinatown, Starburst, gum drops, jelly beans and the old fashioned Tootsie roll. It's all good. I once received a college care package of animal crackers and a 5lb bag of gummy bears. So. Good.
7. Ice Cream:
      I have lots of childhood memories associated with ice cream. Maybe because growing up in Winnipeg, summer was a VERY special, and short, time. I remember how my grandfather loved maple ripple and would make himself a big bowl when he thought my grandmother wasn't looking. We had a little ice cream shack at the base of a bridge you would walk on with your ice cream (called, appropriately enough, The Bridge) and they would roll your entire vanilla cone in crunchy rainbow nonpareils or dip it in a hard chocolate shell. At the beach, we always stopped at the end of the day to get a cone. My sister once got blue raspberry and it turned her whole mouth bright blue. I always got bubble gum which had real bits of gum mixed in so you could squirrel the gum bits in the side of your mouth and when the ice cream was gone you could chew your saved gum. I could love it for the memories but also because, who are we kidding, it is delicious! Rich and creamy, smooth or crammed full of chunks, topped with fruit or hot fudge sauce, I always have a compartment in my tummy for a serving or two.
8. Bourbon:
     I've only recently come to enjoy bourbon. I never really liked any hard liquor as I found I couldn't sort out a discernible flavor from the intense fumes, very different from wine and beer. I started working more often with people who really enjoy bourbon and were gracious enough to share a taste with me. Bit by bit and sip by sip I started to taste the different flavors and enjoy the nuances between different distilleries. Now I enjoy bourbon more than beer. 
9. Pickles:
     I'm not only talking about a cucumber pickle. Beets, green beans, carrots, onions, ramps, hot peppers and brussels sprouts all fit right in that slot too. Oh, and I forgot about ginger, radishes, okra....I think you get the idea. I like my pickles very cold and salty rather than sweet. Herbs are a delicious flavor in the pickling liquid and I always throw a few cloves of garlic in my brine when I make pickles at home. I enjoy them as a snack or in a sandwich and can't seem to keep a jar around for very long. I'll confess too that the majority of the reason I first decided to try growing cucumbers was the enticing thought of always have a supply of cucumbers to pickle!
10. Corn (in all it's lovely forms)
     Corn might be one of the most versatile and delicious foods around. Cornmeal, corn tortillas, corn chips, hominy, on the cob, kernels. Outside of someone with an allergy or intolerance I don't know anyone who does not enjoy corn. It is gluten free as well so corn muffins and breads are a great offering at a gathering for people with mixed gluten problems.
11. Honey (The Bonus Food!)
      I have a special love for honey so I decided to put it at a special place on my top ten list. Melissa is derived from the Greek word for honeybee. I have decided that is why I must love honey so much. I enjoy replacing some of the sugar in baking recipes with honey. When I am not feeling well, a hot tea with honey and a splash of brandy is my personal brand of medicine. I once bought a jar of cranberry honey from an Amish farmstand in New Jersey and although the color was the typical amber brown, the sweet honey had a bit of a tart edge to it and tickled me every time I tasted it. It transforms plain yogurt into a sweet treat and adds a sticky touch to a savory glaze for fish or poultry. Honey was my favorite dipping sauce for chicken mcnuggets when I got a happy meal as a child. It is good and good for you and I want to go put some in my hot cocoa right now.

So there you have it. Although I have to right to change my mind at any time about these foods, I probably won't. And that's OK.

Inspiration

Growing up I never really considered myself an overly creative person. I couldn't draw a straight line if you paid me and loved the concrete formulas and solutions that maths such as algebra and calculus offered. I dabbled with writing poetry, but was always overshadowed by my more talented older sister. I learned to play guitar and sang in small coffeehouse performances (I was only boo-ed during my first performance ever), but wasn't talented enough to make the school musical at my very competitive high school. Perhaps that is why it shocked no one more than me when I decided to go to culinary school because I wanted to become a recipe developer and food editor and be a part of the conversation of creating recipes and food content.
My mother always had magazines and cookbooks that we would contentedly leaf through over a mug of tea in the afternoons and evenings. I remember reading Canadian Living when we were in Winnipeg and then Southern Living when we moved down to Dallas. With such a big family to cook for every day, she was always looking for something new to add to the dinner rotation and I loved being surprised by new ideas, ingredients and flavors. A casserole with black beans, Tex-Mex flavors and a cheesy lasagna-esque layer...sweet almond kissed butter cookies...the million dollar winning cake from the Pillsbury Bake-Off that featured a can of pears as a secret ingredient...so many great ideas!
It has been a bumpy 11 years since I decided to enter the work study program at ICE and eventually obtain my Culinary Arts diploma, but I am now contributing to the food world with ideas and recipes and techniques and still get a bit of a thrill when I see my recipes in print, or read a positive review online from someone who really enjoyed the meal and better yet, plans to add it into their usual dinner rotation to shake things up.
Now that I am contributing, I face a new dilemma. I sometimes find myself needing some inspiration. Every person who cooks has a favorite item they use all the time, whether it's oregano, hot sauce, balsamic vinegar, or even ketchup. When I am brainstorming for projects, however, I have to be careful to not always go to my own culinary comfort zone but branch out and try to offer flavors that will appeal to a wide audience. It's not always easy. For example, I really do not like anchovies, but sometimes it is just the right addition to a dish that will really have wide appeal and I must put my own personal tastes aside and judge it in a neutral, almost detached, frame of mind.
I am lucky to work with great people who offer tips, thoughts and ideas and I read as much as I can to try and think about ingredients and techniques in new ways. Between those two sources of help and inspiration I can usually find my way through my blocks and stumbles . It is my own kind of creativity I can offer and I'll take it. I may have to since I still can't draw a straight line but I can roll dough to an even thickness or slice uniform pieces of chilled cookie dough. Maybe not an even trade, but it works for me.

Tales from a Novice Gardener

It has been almost 4 years since my sweetie and I bought our house. It was also January and we had about 2 pieces of furniture to bring with us, so I was way more concerned with the inside of the house than the outside. As we settled in and the weather warmed up, my other half (who has a very green thumb) announced one sunny Saturday morning that it was time to ready our garden. Now, let me be clear about a few things. We live in Jersey City about 3 blocks from the PATH train so "garden" is a loose term for the L-shaped strip of dirt that runs along the side and front of our house. It's probably about 14-inches wide, and I really didn't think we would be able to grow much of anything. That first year we just turned the soil to get rid of all those huge rocks that like to get in the way and added about 1,000 pounds of top soil and 700 pounds of mulch. I counted the bags. The next year it was flowers. The next year I added basil, thyme and some cucumber sprouts that were calling my name at Lowe's. When my cucumbers grew into a huge bush that I thought was beyond possible, I realized that I could try something a little different next year. So this year I saw a 6-inch little shoot at Lowe's and the tag read tomatillos. Great. Perfect.
As a chef, I have used tomatillos in a bunch of different ways, although there is nothing wrong with a good old salsa verde. I thought I would get a few dozen fruit, make some salsa and maybe some preserves...you know, play around. Things did not go exactly as planned.
The plant started to grow well...a little too well. The tag said 60 days for fruit and around that time I did see a few husks forming, but for the most part I had a huge bush seemingly growing several inches each day with tons and tons of flowers all over. The bees have been very happy...and a little territorial.

See the little husks growing...cute, no?



Yeah...it's even bigger now. That fence is about 5 and half feet tall.

So I ended up with a big tangle of cucumbers (you can see their big leaves on the right hand side of the photo) and tomatillos but was surprised to find that it was several weeks from the time a husk would form to the time I had a tomatillo ready to pick. I would go to this giant plant with my scissors and find only one or two ready in all this greenery. Perhaps if I had pruned the plant back I would have had a better yield, but these are the things you learn when you try something new.
For the past few weeks I have been collecting the tomatillos and today I finally had enough to make a salsa.



Garlic, onion, Fresno pepper, tomatillos




So nice and charred under the broiler.




Blended up with lots of fresh cilantro, lime juice, salt and pepper. Spicy!

With the warm weather holding out, there are still tons of baby husks popping out all over the plant, so I'm hoping I will get an end of the year bumper crop. If not, that's ok too. I'm still proud to have grown a lovely garden this year full of life and learned a few lessons for next year.

Bright and Breezy

The hurricane has passed. The water is ebbing, the power is being restored, businesses are reopened and people are back to work.
Most of us in New York City, the surrounding boroughs and across the Hudson in Jersey City embraced the usual jaded, whatever attitude. It's not that there wasn't concern about the severity of what could have been coming, but we couldn't stop the storm, don't experience this very often and besides posting out of boredom on Facebook, didn't know what to do except to eat and drink. I admit, I was caught up in it as well. Saturday afternoon I had a sudden flash that if power went out and I didn't want to cook in the dark  I didn't have enough snacks! Off to my local 7-11, which as both open and well supplied. I didn't lose power (gratefully) and just ended up with a weekend of too many snacks and perhaps a few too many glasses of wine. This seemed to resonate with many of my friends.
So if the official drink of last weekend was the Hurricane and perhaps a close runner up should have been the Dark and Stormy, I propose a post-hurricane drink: the Bright and Breezy. It's a refreshing and alcohol-free way to embrace a little personal recovery. After all, it's almost Friday of a holiday weekend and that will certainly be a new reason to celebrate.

Bright and Breezy
Makes 1 drink

4 small cubes watermelon, about 1/4 cup
1/4 lime, cut into small pieces
4-6 basil leaves
1/2 to 1 teaspoon honey, to taste
1 cup chilled seltzer, flavored or plain

Place watermelon cubes in the freezer until just frozen, about 30 minutes. In a glass, combine the lime, basil and honey. Crush them together with a muddler or a spoon until the limes have released their juice. Add the frozen watermelon cubes and top with seltzer.

A Sweet Solution

I've got the blues. It's true. The flood-in-the-basement-summer's-almost-over-need-to-fix-the-car-why-are-there-still-ants-in-the-kitchen blues.
I understand in the tragedies of life, this does not even register and as much as I feel like Eeyore, I can see blue skies poking through those gray clouds despite the weatherman's forecast for a day of thunderstorms. What do they know anyway?
I could just wallow, but I get a little bored after about 5 minutes of that so I guess I am going to have to look for another solution. It's time to bake some brownies.
Much like chocolate chip cookies, people seem to have very personal views of what makes the best brownie. There are many factors to consider: nuts or other stir-ins, fudgy,cakey or chewy, dark with cocoa powder or light and sweet? Also, don't forget about the "dark" horse in the race: the blondie! Much like me, it is the red headed stepchild of the brownie world, overlooked and often passed over for it's chocolate sibling even though it is just as decadent, sweet and soul satisfying. Ok, one last wallow there I guess.
I love all baked goods so I usually try and hone in on what is calling to me on that particular day and one of my top candidates for today's pick me up is a recipe I accidentally developed. I was working on a photoshoot and had to prepare the ingredients for a television talent to make bar cookies in front of the camera. The talent aced it in the first two takes and I found myself with lots of extra ingredients. Since everything was measured out there was little to do with it all besides throw it away or bake yet another batch of the talent's bar cookies (there were already about 4 or 5 batches kicking around the kitchen from the shoot). Since I hate to throw food away, I stood there looking at the tray of ingredients in front of me and realized I had what I needed to make some brownies if I just changed things around. I melted the butter with some chocolate instead of creaming it, kicked up the cocoa powder and mixed in the room temperature cream cheese for flavor and texture. The result were soft and creamy brownies studded with chocolate chips. The best part is that these brownies are best served warm or just room temperature so there is no need to wait.
A little treat to yourself is sometimes all it takes to brush the raindrops off your shoulders and realize that the clouds are gone for now and it's time to feel a little sun on your face.

Creamy Triple Chocolate Brownies

 by Melissa Gaman

½ cup unsalted butter

3 oz. bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped

¼ cup unsweetened cocoa powder

¼ teaspoon fine salt

1 8 ounce package cream cheese, softened

¾ cup sugar

3 large eggs

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

¾ cup flour

2 tablespoons milk

¼ cup milk or semi-sweet chocolate chips

Preheat the oven to 350F. Line an 8x8 baking dish with aluminum foil, allowing a 2” overhang and lightly coat with nonstick cooking spray.

In a medium saucepan set over medium heat, melt the butter and chocolate until smooth. Remove from heat and stir in the cocoa and salt until smooth. Set aside.

Beat the cream cheese and sugar on medium-high speed until smooth and fluffy. Reduce speed to low and gradually beat in the chocolate mixture until combined. Beat in the eggs, 1 at a time, and then the vanilla. Alternately add the flour and milk, beginning and ending with the flour, until just combined. Pour into the prepared baking dish, spread evenly and sprinkle with the chocolate chips.

Bake until the top is set and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with moist crumbs, about 15 to 20 minutes. Cool in the pan about 15 minutes and then, using the foil overhang, transfer to a wire rack to cool. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Makes 16 brownies.

Food Memories

Memories are tricky things. They slowly sway around in your mind and step into sharp focus when you least expect them. They are not necessarily about cataloging the truth, but about taking a mental and physical snapshot of a moment and, in that way, memories become singularly unique to each person.

When I was 9 years old my family moved from Winnipeg, Manitoba to Dallas, Texas. People often raise their eyebrows at this and comment on what a huge shift it must have been. That is an understatement.

When I lived in Winnipeg I was surrounded by grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends down the street. My favorite times were the long afternoons we would spend with my maternal grandparents. My grandmother is Welsh and moved to Canada after meeting my grandfather during World War II when she was a nurse and he an injured soldier. Her Welsh sensibilities always had us children being productive and doing something. We would help her shell peas, trail my grandfather around his garden or be left to practice the wood burning techniques he had taught us with some old wood and a magnifying glass.

Then, we would all come together for dinner. I don't actually remember what we had for dinner, but I specifically remember dessert. She made amazing date and oat squares (she calls them matrimonial squares) or maybe a  lemon bundt cake with a sweet tart lemon glaze that would gently pool at the bottom of the cake and we would swipe off the plate with our fingers when she wasn't looking. Sometimes it was a big bowl of ice cream. Maple ripple was my grandfather's favorite. And sometimes it was a big bowl of strawberries with a small bowl of sugar next to it. I wasn't much for believing that fruit was really dessert, but when I dipped those strawberries in sugar it was more than enough for me. I loved how the sugar stayed a little crunchy against the soft berries and the sugar bowl would slowly become tinged pink. I could never believe how good, sweet, ripe...perfect they tasted.

 

The last few weeks have brought local strawberries to my farmers market. Stopping to buy a quart one day the farmer told me to lean in and smell them. They were picked at 4am that day and were the essence of strawberry. In a moment I was back sitting at my grandmother's table in the house she still lives in, in a t-shirt and shorts, blissfully unaware that those long afternoons were about to become only memories.

I did the only thing I thought was right. I came home, put a bunch of strawberries

on a plate, poured a little bowl of raw sugar and added a spoonful of mascarpone cheese to the plate (I guess some things can change a little.)

As I savored the crunchy sugar against the sweet berries and rich mascarpone I let my mind wonder about how much these memories played into my decision to work in the culinary world. Would different childhood memories have altered my future?

  

 I suppose it's impossible to know, but by the time I finished my plate, my spirit felt a little lighter. It was the best quart of strawberries I have every bought.

My Catch of the Day

I love to fish. I vaguely remember, as a young child, fishing for trout in a little pool for kids at a campground vacation in Minnesota with my family. The bulk of the memory is me holding a little fishing rod and being angry that I didn't catch anything because there were prizes for the ones who caught the most fish. I guess even then I had a competitive spirit. Fast forward about 20 years to being invited to go fishing on a pier in Jersey City by my, then new, boyfriend. I was wearing boots and a leather jacket, not quite understanding all I was getting into. He showed me how to cast a treble hook to try and snag a live baitfish and I was surprised to actually hook into one. As I reeled it in, under his instruction, the rod suddenly felt very heavy and it was increasingly difficult to turn the reel. I was encouraged to keep going (my sweetie thought I was being weak and a little strange) and much to both of our shock there was a beautiful striped bass on the end of the line! The bass had gone after my bait fish as I was reeling it in. Not to be too cliche, but I guess you could say I was hooked.


I told you I was in a leather jacket. Manhattan skyline behind me.


Since that day I have had the opportunity to fish from piers, rock jetties, boats and riverbanks for trout, striped bass, bluefish, steelhead, dolphinfish and tuna, although I have not been lucky enough to catch the last two kinds. We fish in the winter and the summer and I find there is something peaceful and beautiful about being on the water at daybreak or sunset and something exciting about literally seeing a fish jump out of the water for your bait.


Peace


Beyond that, of course, is the opportunity to eat the freshest fish you can get. It is a special day that begins with a fishing rod and ends with gorgeous sides of fish so fresh that as you fillet you can have a little sashimi as well. Even though I am a chef, I cannot afford or choose to buy and live all organically and free range, but I take pride in doing what I can to eat cleanly and well.

Striped bass is wonderful because it is so mild that it adapts well to a variety of cooking techniques and flavors. I like to keep it simple so you don't just taste the spices or sauces you have added to it.

For this dinner I rubbed the fillets with some minced garlic and pepper, added a squeeze of lime juice and let them stand for about 30 minutes and then rubbed them with a mixture of salt and chili powder. I seared them in a nonstick skillet until golden brown on each side and gave them a light brush of barbecue sauce in the last few minutes of cooking. Served with a corn and tomatillo salad and some cold lightly dressed soba noodles, it was a perfect summer meal.

A Sour Start

As a recipe developer I have come to expect that the first pass on something unknown will turn out....questionable. The stubborn perfectionist in me always holds out hope that from the start it will be amazing and perfect and delicious and that I am, unquestionably, a genius! Not quite. I must remind myself when looking at the actual finished dish as opposed to the image in my head that the process of creating a recipe is the most valuable part of the process. I remind myself often.

My current project, despite the 90 degree heat in my old house without air conditioning, is no knead sourdough bread made from a wonderful sourdough starter that was gifted to me. I love making bread and have a solid track record with both sweet and savory loaves. I have, however, never made bread from a sourdough starter instead of yeast and I have never made no knead bread. This kind of challenge is right up my alley.

The beauty of the no knead process is two fold. The first is that it cuts several steps from the traditional process and since I do have other things to do with my days (yes, days plural - bread takes time!) than fold, proof, shape and proof various stages of dough, this is perfect. The second is that all the equipment you need is a bowl, a wooden spoon, plastic wrap, parchment and an enamel coated cast iron pot. This is ideal for me since my old house also lacks in counter space and storage in the kitchen.

I started by researching no knead sourdough bread recipes online. I found a range of techniques and ingredients and settled on one based on tips from Nancy Silverton since the starter was from one of her cookbooks. I really wanted to use all starter instead of starter plus yeast so first I had to tend to my starter. I had been keeping it in the fridge so the first thing I did was to let it sit at room temperature for a while and get it all active and bubbling again. It was so warm yesterday this took only a few hours. I then mixed in a bowl some bread flour, kosher salt, honey and the starter. It looked sort of shaggy and dry, which didn't quite seem right so I mixed in a few tablespoons of water. I let it double at room temperature for 5 hours and then let it sit in the fridge overnight, as the research suggested in order to let the sourdough flavor really develop but not allow the bread to over proof and become excessively sticky.



The next morning


My dough the next morning was not quite as expected. It didn't really change at all overnight and still seemed too dry and tight. At this point there was really nothing to do to try and fix it. I knew perfection was out the window on this loaf so it was time to just wait and see what was going to happen. I let the dough stand at room temperature while I preheated my oven with the Dutch oven in it at 475 degrees F for 45 minutes. I then put a piece of parchment at the bottom of the Dutch oven and turned the dough right into the hot pot. I baked, covered, until puffed and firm and then lowered the oven temperature to 400 degrees F and finished baking, uncovered, until it was golden brown and firm when tapped.



The cooling loaf







Checking out the crumb



The bread turned out to not be a total disaster. Although it had a very crunchy crust and a wonderful sour flavor from the starter, there was too much salt and the crumb was too dense. The denseness was really no surprise since I felt the dough was itself was too dry.

Further reading leads to me believe that it all comes back to my starter. Perhaps I need to let it sit out of the fridge and feed it for a few days so that it is more aggressive? Perhaps I need to add a bit more water to my recipe as my starter may be firmer than the ones I was referencing? Is the problem as simple as the fact that I tried to make a half batch and the proportions just don't translate?

As I chew this over for a few days and read some more, at least I can be comforted by having some fresh bread to chew on as well.



Dinner for one

Although I live in a household of two, I often feel as if I must cook for six to satisfy my significant other's voracious appetite. The degree to which he can put it away continues to shock me. It can be a challenge to come home after a long day of cooking and try and figure out what to make to satisfy his hunger. It is even more challenging when my own belly is overly full from a day of marathon tasting, but the chef in me can't stand to see a loved one go hungry. Perhaps this is why when I find myself on my own for a few days that I delight in the ability to cook for one: me!
As much as I love my sweetie, there is pleasure in being able to selfishly cook with only my tastes in mind. I love dishes that are more spicy, tart and messy than he cares for. One of my favorite dishes that is all of those things is vegetable rice noodles. I actually make this often for the both of us, but when it is just me, all bets are off. I don't treat this as a side dish, underplay the spice or bother trimming the long noodles to manageable lengths.
I can't really give a proper recipe for this because the pure joy of making it is in catering to my mood that day, but I can share with you my building blocks so that you too can take it and make it just for you.

Vegetable Rice Noodles:

For the sauce:
Lime juice, cider vinegar, honey, soy sauce, hot sauce, minced fresh ginger, peanut butter, toasted sesame oil, red curry paste, salt and pepper.

Mix-ins:
Strips of cucumber, bell pepper, carrot. Sliced scallion and fresh chilies. Whole cilantro, basil and/or mint leaves.

Soak rice noodles in hot water until tender; drain. Toss with sauce and let stand for 30 minutes to allow the noodles to soak up the sauce. To speed this up, cover and microwave for 1 to 2 minutes. The noodles will drink up the sauce. Toss in your mix-ins of choice and eat right out of the bowl.

Feeling Corny

The last few weeks in New York has finally signaled that the seasons are changing and summer is just around the corner. Every year this shift is so highly anticipated that when the temperature hits above 60 for more than one day in a row, men and women start walking around in shorts and sandals. I'm as ready as anyone, but I'm still wearing my jacket. I am, to a fault, a realist. 60 degrees is not 80.
This bubbling fervor hasn't left me untouched. While ramps and rhubarb have been great, I'm really starting to crave juicy berries and cherries and, most of all, crisp sweet summer corn. I learned the hard way not to buy the tempting ears all wrapped up in cellophane at the supermarket. Starchy and bland, this corn just ends up making me feel both mad and sad and does not scratch the itch. So this time I tried another route and turned to one of my pantry staples, canned hominy. Hominy is dried corn that has been treated with an alkali, such as lye, to prevent it from sprouting during storage. You can buy it in the same forms as beans: dried in bags or cooked and in liquid in cans. The applications are the same as well. If you buy it dried you need to soak it and cook it until tender and from the can with a simple rinse it's pretty much ready to go. I actually keep both around since they are cheap and last a long time, I can use it depending on my time frame that day.
I had hominy for the first time about 5 years ago and quickly added it to my own pantry. It has a deep corn flavor with a hint of something citrusy and a pleasant chew that holds up in soups and stews, which is mostly how I have cooked with it until now. It dawned on me that since hominy is corn, why don't I treat it more like corn? My summer corn itch was about to be scratched with a roasted hominy salad.
The hominy took very well to being roasted, maintaining its texture without becoming dry or tough, and with a bit of lime and cilantro to brighten the dish, I think I'll be able to make it to summer.

Roasted Hominy and Sweet Potato Salad
Melissa Gaman

1 15-ounce can white hominy, drained and rinsed
2 small sweet potatoes, about 1 pound, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces
1/2 large sweet onion, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, sliced
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 to 2 limes, juiced
1/2 cup cilantro leaves, chopped if desired, I like whole leaves
1 scallion, sliced
1 avocado, peeled and cubed

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Line a rimmed baking sheet with foil. In a large bowl toss the hominy with the sweet potatoes, onion and garlic. Add the oil, chili powder, paprika and a generous sprinkling of salt and pepper; toss well to coat and spread in a single layer on the lined baking sheet. Roast until the hominy is golden and the sweet potatoes are tender, about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Cool until warm but no longer steaming, 5 to 10 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl and squeeze the juice of 1 lime over the mixture. Add the cilantro and scallion and toss. Season to taste with the juice from the second lime, salt and pepper. Fold in the avocado. Serve warm or at room temperature.

From my own test kitchen!

One of the things I love most about my job is the ability to be creative every day. But being a professional recipe developer does not mean you get to cook whatever you want. Don't like anchovies? Too bad if puttanesca is on the list to be tackled. Don't care for blue cheese? That burger you've been assigned is a bacon blue cheese burger, you know, with the extra stinky kind of blue cheese. Yikes. In my kitchen, I decide the menu and often end up treating it just like a test kitchen. Here is a recent experiment I worked on to give an idea of how a recipe developer's mind works, or at least my mind:
I recently came into some leftover rhubarb, a handful of underwhelming strawberries, and two Meyer lemons which had been dezested (I call them bald citrus). I couldn't decide what to make: Meyer lemon pudding or panna cotta with strawberry rhubarb compote, a tart or pie (I also had some cream cheese for a pie dough recipe I like), a simple pot of preserves for breakfast? Then it hit me what I truly wanted. A no-fuss, tasty dessert: strawberry rhubarb crisp.
After a bit of research and a look through my cabinets I decided on a game plan. I was going to macerate the sad berries in a bit of red wine and sugar to enhance their berry-ness, toss with the rhubarb, Meyer lemon juice, sugar, flour, vanilla, salt and a pinch of black pepper to play into the flavor notes of the red wine. The topping was going to be my favorite kind: a crumbly sweet mix of oats, sugar, flour, cinnamon, and, of course, butter.
After securing the right size baking dish and giving it a healthy rub of softened butter I was ready to get this crisp in the oven. I faced a few last minute questions as I began to toss the elements of the filling together. Should I drain the strawberries or use the macerating liquid? If I used the liquid, did I need to double my flour? Erring on the side of a juicy, rather than dry, crisp, I added the liquid and just slightly increased my flour. Nothing is worse than a gummily thickened fruit filling. I also had a pause as I was about to add the black pepper. Was this only a good idea in my head? I decided it was better to find out and tossed it in.
45 minutes later, I had a gorgeous bubbling crisp:

Overall the dessert was delicious and it did not even make it 24 hours in my 2 person house. Here are my tasting notes: the fruit filling was a little looser than I would have liked and I probably should have doubled my flour. Especially because I was glad to have included the winey macerated liquid, which gave the dessert a rich flavor. The black pepper was a back note, but it was definitely there and I'm not sure next time I'd put it in. I couldn't decide if I really liked it or not, a feeling that usually means it does not belong. The topping, the proportions of which I borrowed from an old Gourmet recipe, was a little too sweet, especially because the rhubarb I had was not that tart and the Meyer lemons are also not as sour as a regular lemon.
It ended up being a tasty dessert for a blustery night and another good learning experience from my test kitchen.