Cauliflower with paprika, tomatoes and chickpeas

I saw this recipe for cauliflower with tomatoes and pimenton in the New York Times earlier this year and it has become one of my go-to recipes whenever I have any cauliflower on hand. The sweetness of the cauliflower, which melts into the rest of the dish as it softens, is perfectly complemented by the sweetness in the pimenton. The tomatoes lend some acidity to the dish and provide a base for the paprika. I love the smokiness of the paprika, so mix hot and sweet so I can up the flavor ante without burning my mouth.

The original recipe was pure vegetable, but I have taken to adding some chickpeas to make it a one-dish meal in and of itself. Below is my slightly amended, but filling and extremely satisfying version.

Cauliflower with paprika and chickpeas

1 medium head cauliflower, trimmed

1 T. olive oil

1 mild dried chile, optional

1/2 onion, chopped

1 tsp. minced garlic

1 can chopped tomatoes plus juice

1 T. sweet paprika (or hot paprika, or a mix)

1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

Salt and pepper to taste

Chopped fresh parsley leaves for garnish, optional.

Chop cauliflower into florets, then place in a covered bowl with a spoonful of water and microwave until soft, about 5-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, heat oil in a large pan and add onion and chile, if using. Cook until onion softens, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and let soften, about 2 minutes, then add paprika.

Add tomato, chickpeas and cauliflower and cook, mashing cauliflower a bit, until cauliflower is coated with sauce and chickpeas are hot. Garnish.

Serves 2 as main dish.

Roast duck legs with red wine and dried plums, roast potatoes and cabbage

I had a pair of duck legs in the freezer, a souvenir of a trip to the Blackheath farmer's market where I slightly over-shopped and came back with more food than possible to consume before it all went bad. Luckily, the cooler nights and longer evenings call for something rich and comforting, something a little bit special. A Saturday night in was the perfect opportunity to cook up a duck feast.

I can't give an exact recipe because I improvised as I went along and forgot to write down my exact measurements. However, nothing was so complicated that it can't be figured out or approximated.

I wanted to cook the duck slowly in the oven, making a sauce in the roasting pan as everything cooked together. Though I would be roasting the bird, I wanted to make sure the skin got crisp and some of the fat drained out (I had other uses for it). I cooked the legs, skin side down, in a medium hot non-stick pan for about 5-10 minutes, until the skin was cooked and I had several tablespoons of fat in the pan.

I then transferred the duck to my baking dish and thought about what I would cook with it. I had some red wine from Friday night, some red onions, and decided I would add in some dried plums (yep, prunes), as they do in France. I poured in about a cup of wine and a cup of water, thinly sliced the red onions, and chopped the handful of prunes in half. I popped the dish into a 350 oven and forgot about it for half an hour.

What to make to go with the duck? With the extra duck fat, roast potatoes would clearly be on the menu. I poured off most of the duck fat in the saute pan and mixed it with some cut up potatoes, and in they went to the oven with the duck. All they needed was to be stirred around once or twice during roasting.

And, of course, we needed some greens. I had a head of savoy/Napa cabbage. This I cooked in the same saute pan as the duck, with the last remaining drops of the duck fat, and 1/4 cup of vegetable stock. I put the lid on the pan and steamed the cabbage for 5 minutes until it turned bright green, then took off the lid and let the little bit of liquid in the bottom evaporate.

Finally, when the duck and potatoes were ready, I took out the duck from the oven, removed it to a covered plate to rest for a few minutes. I poured the liquid from the pan into a fat separator, straining out the onions and prunes, then poured the pure liquid back into the pan with the vegetables and fruit.

A little plating up and we were ready to feast.

Pattypan squash stuffed with sausage and white beans

Last of the summer squash, those fresh, thin-skinned varieties that (sometimes) grow to massive proportions, forgotten under a large leaf in the garden. I have no garden, but I do have a vegetable box that brings me such treats, often revealing a surprise. Such as the giant pattypan squash that arrived recently.

What to do with two large pattypans? These are the squash that look like they came from space, giant flying-saucer-like vegetables. Being such a fun shape, I wanted to cook something that showed it off or at least made use of it.

I have always loved stuffed squash. (A great example I made last winter: delicata squash stuffed with barley and quinoa) The pattypan variety is great for this because you can get a lot of filling squashed (sorry) into these puppies, and the flavor of the filling transfers to the container. With their soft skin, you can eat everything. Very efficient.

But it's the beginning of November (where did the year go?), so goodbye summer squash, hello butternut, acorn, delicata and other heartier, more wintry varieties. Wrap up warm and enjoy the change.

Pattypan squash stuffed with sausage and white beans

2 pattypan squash, boiled or roasted until tender.

1 clove garlic, minced

1 small onion, diced

1 medium carrot, chopped

2 sausages, casings removed

1/2 C. small white beans (cannellini, haricot, etc.)

1/4 C. breadcrumbs

Roast at 350 or boil the squash until tender.

Cut off top and scoop out seeds. Any extra flesh, reserve and mix with the stuffing. Cut a small, thin slice off the very bottom just to flatten the squash so it stays upright in the baking dish.

In a skillet on the stove, cook sausage in a little olive oil, breaking up the meat into little crumbles. Add onion and carrot and cook until soft, then add garlic and saute for a few minutes. Add beans and stir through breadcrumbs.

Stuff the sausage mixture into the squash and place into an oiled roasting dish, with any leftover stuffing scattered around the squash.

Bake at 350 for about 10 minutes, until everything heats through and the breadcrumbs crisp.

Serves 2.

Pasta with fresh basil and tomatoes confit

This is hardly a recipe, but it's one of my favorite uses for my tomato confit. In the same way that I love a fresh tomato pasta, as the heat of the spaghetti cooks the tomatoes, with maybe just a little garlic and olive oil, the tomato confit makes for a slightly more robust version. In this dish, the intensity of the tomatoes is balanced out by a good handful of fresh basil. Especially in winter, when tomatoes need to be coaxed to release any sort of flavor, this dish still brings back memories of summer.

So there you have it, a simple dish that can't be improved by any addition of any ingredients. I think that's about all that needs to be said. Eat up.

Tomato confit

Most of the time I think tomatoes are one of nature's most perfect foods. Rarely can anything beat a fresh, ripe tomato (sprinkled with a little salt and pepper). Straight from a garden, with that dusty flavor of sunshine, I could eat them like apples. I think it's a shame to do anything to them. However, there are times when cooking is a necessity, or a luxury. Perhaps when tomato season begins to wane, or maybe at the height of it with a bumper crop, it's time to turn the heat up.

Aside from being an amazingly delicious thing to do to a tomato, this is one of those recipes that you can turn into anything. A foundation recipe, if you will, on which to build a food empire. Confit actually refers to a technique of preserving food, either in salt, sugar, oil, or vinegar (so far as I can tell), but most often "confit" conjures up the taste of tender and rich meat slowly cooked in its own fat (or that of a more generous species).

These tomatoes confit are cooked in a bit of olive oil, not enough to drown them, but just enough so that the oil and tomato juices create a nectar-like emulsion as the liquid concentrates in the oven. A few cloves of garlic thrown into the pan never hurt either.

What to do with all this goodness? Toast some rustic bread and top with the tomatoes; stir in some plump cannellini beans; spoon some onto a delicate white fish. The possibilities are nearly endless.

Tomato confit

Tomatoes (cherry tomatoes or quartered Roma tomatoes)

A few cloves of garlic

Olive oil to coat (about 1/4 C. for an 8" pan)

Sprigs of rosemary or thyme if on hand

Toss tomatoes in olive oil in pan. Add in garlic and herbs if using. Bake at 300 for an hour or so, until tomatoes are collapsed and tender.

Mark Bittman's Mexican chocolate tofu pudding

Anyone sensing a theme? I seem to be stuck on Mexican food, though this is not a bad thing. Who doesn't like cumin, cilantro, chili pepper, cinnamon? (And is all Mexican food alliterative?) However, after my mole recipe and pico de gallo salad, I thought I should do something for dessert.

I like cooking with tofu. It has a great texture, ranging from silky soft to firm and crumbly. Better yet, it will absorb whatever flavors it snuggles up with like the way I wished I could absorb calculus by sleeping with my textbook under my pillow. I have often used soft tofu to add body and protein to blended soups and firm tofu as the main act in my stir fries. However, I had not, until now, considered the soy product as a potential dessert.

Mark Bittman's article in the New York Times about tofu included this recipe for Mexican Chocolate tofu pudding. I pretty much like anything he creates, so I thought I'd give it a shot. The recipe was easy and produced a great result. The pudding has the deep undertones of cinnamon supporting the high and hot notes of the chili. If you like the flavors of Mexican chocolate, this dish has it in spades. If you like your chocolate a bit less adulterated, it is also a treat without the spices. An extra table spoon or two of cocoa mixed in with the liquid would make it seriously decadent. At the same time, there's something wonderfully guilt-free about eating tofu. Go on.

Mark Bittman's Mexican Chocolate Tofu Pudding

3/4 C. sugar

1 pound silken tofu

8 ounces high-quality bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, melted

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp. chili powder, or more to taste

Chocolate shavings (optional).

In a small pot, combine sugar with 3/4 cup water; bring to a boil and cook until sugar is dissolved, stirring occasionally. Cool slightly.

Put all ingredients except for chocolate shavings in a blender and purée until completely smooth, stopping machine to scrape down its sides if necessary. Divide among 4 to 6 ramekins and chill for at least 30 minutes. Garnish with fruit or chocolate shavings.

Serves 4 to 6 (depending on size of ramekin and appetite)

Pico de gallo and quinoa salad

Hello again. I'm back after another hiatus. September was a busy month: three countries, four time zones, a birthday, a wedding, several amazing dinners out, and (oh yes) crunch time at work. But I'm back now and raring to go with a few new recipes.

First up, a sort of non-recipe that turned out to be inspired (in my humble opinion). I had made fajitas with the required accompaniments, i.e. pico de gallo and guacamole, courtesy of my brother's recipe. Surprisingly, I actually had some left over. The guacamole was easy -- I practically ate it with a spoon -- but the pico de gallo was a little more challenging. Luckily, the fridge provides unexpected inspiration through juxtaposition: another container held some quinoa from an earlier meal, and I had an ear of corn -- the last of the summer -- which came in my vegetable box. After throwing in some pinto beans, also from the meal, this combination made for a tasty lunch. Quick and easy for when life gets to be a bit too hectic.

Pico de gallo and quinoa salad

1/2 C. pico de gallo

1/3 C. cooked quinoa

1/2 C. pinto beans

1/3 C. corn

lime

salt to taste

Mix all ingredients together, adjusting lime, salt and pepper to taste.