Stay at Stove Dad

Weeknight Linguine alle Vongole? It Can Be Done!

I often get asked some variation on the following: “What’s a good fast meal for a quick dinner?” And the answer I’ve always given is to plan ahead. With the right ingredients around, there are many recipe options that can be done in about a half an hour.

Planning ahead, though, has its shortcomings. What if you plan ahead, and then the world doesn’t cooperate. Or what if when you’re planning ahead, you happen to be tired? Or worse, still, full of energy, ambition, and hope? In that case, you might plan on doing too much, which gets me around to how we ended up eating linguine alle vongole on a weeknight.

Now that spring is here, and the folks at Blue Moon Fish are back in business at the Grand Army Greenmarket, I’ve switched into my warm-weather routine of getting flounder, porgy, or clams on the weekends. I planned on having porgies last Saturday (they’re perfect for fish tacos—something I need to blog about here next chance I get because I’m sure you’ll love them, seriously) and linguine alle vongole on Sunday.

The thing I didn’t plan on was being out of the house on Saturday evening. Ironically, I was leading a panel on dads and cooking at the Food Book Fair, and I wasn’t able to be home cooking. I punted and had Santa Maria serve everybody Bolognese and pasta.

So I had the porgy tacos on Sunday and that left the clams for Monday. Linguine alle vongole doesn’t strike me as a weeknight dish, but I’ve learned a new trick that can transform almost any dish into a weeknight quickie. I might sound like an infomercial salesman, but I’m not kidding. Here’s the secret: do the time-shift shuffle and take care of the prep work before it’s time to cook. That way, putting the dish together doesn’t take much time at all.

I washed the clams and parsley and other herbs the night before. Had I peeled and sliced the garlic then, too, I would have saved even more time. When I came home Monday night after working all day and was then facing the GET-THE-DINNER-ON-THE-TABLE-BY-6:30 deadline, I was in good shape.

Linguine alle vongole is a quick dish, provided you do the pre work ahead of time. It was a real treat for a weeknight, and it’s nice to know that such delights can be put within reach of the working man.

Weeknight Linguini alle Vongole

 

• Enough pasta for three to four people
• Three dozen of the smallest little neck, or other hard-shell clam
• One chili pepper or a good shake of crushed red pepper
• Three or four cloves garlic, sliced in half lengthwise and then sliced thinly
• One cup or so of white wine
• A handful of fresh parsley, washed and minced (do in advance)
• A few leaves of basil, washed and chopped (do in advance)
• A few sprigs of mint, washed and chopped (do in advance)

 

        Put a pot of water on to boil

        Scrub the clams well (do in advance)

        As soon as the water boils, salt it and start cooking the pasta, and then proceed to other steps.

        Heat some olive oil in a stock pot.

        Add the garlic and the pepper.

        Cook just a few minutes.

        Add the clams, the herbs, and the white wine and cover.

        Cook until the clams open up, just a few minutes (give the pot a good shake every so often).

Have Faith: Coriander and Cumin Cornmeal Crusted Pork Chops

I didn’t get a chance to post anything here last week because I was very busy with work. I have a couple of freelance articles that have been taking up my time, and I have a few additional professional concerns that haven’t taken up much of my time, but have sapped my mental energy. Then, of course, I have my family, which manages to do both at once—eat up my time and energy. So as I promised, I’m doing a short post on how to feed a family in time of extreme work stress. I will start with the most important point: Have faith that you can do it.

I was recently reading Mark Nepo’s “The Book of Awakening,” and it explained faith to me in a way that suddenly made sense. He talked about a man being thrown into water. If he doesn’t have faith that the water will hold him up (i.e., if he doesn’t believe—and know—that he can swim) he will panic and the water—which by no stretch of the imagination is supposed to be able to support anyone—will engulf him, and he will certainly drown. Of course, there was that gentleman way back when who had so much faith he could walk on water, but I’m just talking about getting dinner on the table, so it’s that much easier.

So if you’ve been cooking for a while, just have faith that you can do it. And if you’ve been reading this blog for a few years, you’ll have a load of ideas at your fingertips: use your freezer, plan ahead, stock your larder.

Here’s a new one: Coriander and Cumin Cornmeal Crusted Pork Chops that I threw together the other night. (In all fairness, if you want a thoroughly vetted, tested, and food-approved recipe, try one of the Cook’s Illustrated ones; they get paid for creating recipes that work—I just do it to survive.)

I always have cornmeal on hand, for my cornbread recipe, and I decided to dress up my standard (read: boring) weeknight pork chops with a bit of flavoring. Maybe it was the alliteration, or maybe it was the aroma, but either way I decided to combine coriander and cumin and dress up my pork chops. I didn’t measure, and I don’t think you should, either. If you’re under pressure at work, with your family, in life, or for whatever reason, don’t sweat the details. Just have faith, and feed your self and your family well.

Coriander and Cumin Cornmeal Crusted Pork Chops

• A good couple of shakes of cornmeal (maybe three or four tablespoons)
• A couple of shakes of dried coriander (maybe a tablespoon)
• A couple of shakes of cumin (about the same as above)
• 1 to 3 pork chops, boneless, depending on how they are packaged (figure 6-8 oz. per adult, 3-4 oz. per child; less if they are picky eaters, which is an easy way to save money.)

Spread the cornmeal on a plate, and add the spices, along with some salt and pepper.

Mix them well with a fork.

Take each pork chop and place it in the cornmeal mixture until coated well. This is not a perfect coat, and much will fall off, and that’s okay. It’s a weeknight, and you are busy, remember?

Heat a cast-iron or other thick-bottomed frying pan on a medium high heat, and add a bit of olive oil.

Place the pork chops in the pan and keep the heat on medium low. Cover the pan, and depending on the thickness, cook for about three to four to five minutes. Don’t worry about browning them at this point. With thick chops, my concern is more about cooking the interior before browning the exterior.

Flip the chops and cook another four or five minutes on the other side.

If necessary, flip them back and brown them on a higher heat.

They are done when the interior temperature reaches 145.

Let them rest a few minutes while you get the rest of your meal—or your life—in order. Here's how it will look:

Crispy Chorizo, Quinoa, and Sweet Potato Salad

Sometimes cooking can be so easy that it boggles my mind. Take tonight’s dinner, for example. I simply brought together something from a new recipe and added it to an old recipe, and voila, I had a smashing new dish. Okay, it wasn’t completely, 100% new, but, then again, what actually is new? Is anything?

I took the crispy Chorizo sausage from my friend Aran Goyoaga’s sublime Brussels sprouts, sausage, pear, and black quinoa salad, and added it to my sturdy old sweet potato and quinoa salad. It was that easy.

The result was satisfying and delicious. I’ve always liked my quinoa salad, but I often felt it didn’t have enough heft. The Chorizo solved that problem on two accounts. It added a touch of spice and it added a huge hit of protein. Easy, I’m telling you. Go try it, and see for yourself. You’ll be happy you did.

Crispy Chorizo, Quinoa, and Sweet Potato Salad

• 1 cup quinoa, rinsed well
• 1 large sweet potato, scrubbed
• 1-4 links of chorizo sausage, depending on how many servings of salad are desired.*
• 1 red bell pepper, seeded and diced
• ¼ of a red onion, minced
• ¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
• olive oil
• white wine vinegar
• salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

Cook the quinoa in 2 cups of water as you would cook rice, about twenty minutes. Set aside to cool.

Cut the Chorizo sausages in half lengthwise, and then cut into ¼ inch thick half moons. Add a little bit of oil to a large frying pan over a medium-high heat and crisp up the sausages on one side. Flip and crisp on the other. Drain on paper towels and set aside.

Chop the sweet potatoes into small squares, about a half inch each. Coat with a tiny bit of olive oil, salt and pepper, and spread out on a baking sheet or in a large frying pan and roast in the oven until the potatoes are soft on the inside and slightly crispy on the outside, about twenty to twenty-five minutes.

Toss all the ingredients, including the sausages, and dress with the oil and vinegar.

Notes: Dress only as much of the salad as you would like to eat in a given sitting. The remainder of the salad will keep for days, so long as it is not dressed before consuming.

*Crisp up only as much Chorizo as you might like to consume in that setting. Figure one to two sausages per person (though that’s what I eat, and I eat a lot more than most folks).

This recipe makes about five to eight servings of the salad, depending on how large each serving is. Just keep in mind that it makes a lot of salad.

Making a Silk Purse Out of a Sow’s Ear

It’s back to school time, and not just for the kids. On Monday, I started a course in personal financial management—something I need to learn a few things about—and as it was an evening course I arrived home after it late and hungry. I had intended to eat prior to the class, but I got busy at work and had to run for the train, and barely got to the classroom on time. The dinner I had taken with me—a few slices of leftover pork loin and some cold rice—remained in my bag until I returned home that evening. It was not a very inspiring meal, and frankly it would have been downright depressing on its own. But I got lucky.

Once, a while back, Pinta happened to be sick with a stomach bug and I whipped up a homemade soup for her using just chicken stock and rice. After class, I borrowed the same idea and made a kind of poor-man’s wonton soup. No wontons, but pork and rice and that rich homemade chicken stock. The key ingredient—and here’s where I got lucky—was a single scallion that I found in the refrigerator. I sliced it up and added it to the soup. It gave it a touch of green, and just the right bite. With a little salt, I was all set.

The lesson here: keep a few good ingredients—chicken stock, scallions, cooked rice (which you can always keep in the freezer)—on hand, and you’ll never lack for a good meal—last night I could even have made the same soup with slices of hard-boiled eggs. I wouldn’t have won any awards for cooking a meal like that, but, then again, I wouldn’t have gone hungry either.

Make Ahead: Spicy Shrimp and Mint Pasta

Not to get off topic, but I was very moved recently by two events: the death of Adam (MCA) Yauch, of the Beastie Boys, and the news that Warren Buffet, the famed investor, has prostate cancer. It suddenly seemed to me that nothing can protect me, not fame nor talent nor wealth. Time is limited, and it’s up to us to make the most of it.

Good food is one way to enjoy each moment, but making that good food takes time, and time is always at a premium for a working parent. I’ve long been trying to figure out how to deal with this—how to have good food and still hold down a job, get the kids to school, help with their homework, etc, etc, etc.

My latest solution, and I’m sure it’s not original but I’m happy to have hit on it, is to do as much of the work as possible ahead of time. On Friday, for example, I wanted to make an old favorite, Roman Shrimp. It’s a wonderful dish, a bit spicy and unexpectedly refreshing because it’s made with mint. The sauce has a deep richness because it’s made by browning the garlic. Typically, this is a big no-no, but in this case it is a move that gives the sauce a distinct flavor.

Before I went to work on Friday morning, I sliced the garlic, and browned it with two chili peppers. I chopped the tomatoes and added them to the pan and cooked it for few minutes. Then I turned everything off and let it sit on the stovetop all day (I took out the chili peppers). When I came home from work, it was ready for me to finish. I spent fifteen minutes on it in the morning.

Later that night (I had to work late, so it was even better than I had anticipated that I had started the sauce), all I had to was cook it down a bit (which I did while I boiled water and made pasta) and add the shrimp and fresh mint. A particularly delightful dinner was ready in a matter of minutes.

Spicy Tomato Sauce with Shrimp with Garlic and Fresh Mint a.k.a. Roman Shrimp 

•     1-2 chili pepper(s)
•     6-8 cloves garlic, peeled and cut in half and then sliced
•     1 28-oz. can peeled plum tomatoes, diced
•     1/2 to 1 lb. peeled medium shrimp, sliced lengthwise into two pieces
•     1/2 cup or more of fresh mint, chopped
•     Spaghetti or other pasta of choice.

Put a large pot of salted water on to boil for the pasta.

In a large saucepot, heat olive oil and then add the garlic and the chili pepper. Cook the garlic until it is brown. This gives the sauce an intense, dark note.

Add the tomatoes and reduce.

Start to cook the pasta.

When the pasta is cooked, stir the shrimp into the tomato sauce.

Cook the sauce until the shrimp curl into spirals and are cooked through.

Add the mint to the sauce and serve.

Note: It is important to slice the shrimp lengthwise into two pieces before cooking. This accomplishes two things: it cause them to twist up into neat shapes while they cook, and it allows them to cook even faster than if they were whole, and we all know how important that is!

Super Speedy Spinach-Sausage Pasta with Truffles

The more my children age, the more I realize that we are in a race against time. Soon, they will be teenagers, then young adults, then, perhaps, parents themselves, and I’ll be in once place and one place only, that place that Tolstoy alluded to in his story “How Much Land Does a Man Need?” (the answer, of course, is six feet).

And if the race isn’t big, it’s small—the race against low blood sugar and getting the kids in bed. The race to eek out some leisure time between work and going to sleep. The race to get food on the table.

I recently picked up a new book, “Culinary Intelligence: The Art of Eating Healthy (And Really Well)” by Peter Kaminsky. I got to know Kaminsky when I put together my book, “Man with a Pan: Culinary Adventures of Fathers who Cook for their Families,” which came out last Father’s Day. Kaminsky was one many contributors, including Mark Bittman, Jim Harrison, Stephen King, and Mario Batali, who talked about what it takes to keep their wives and children well fed. I haven’t had a chance to read “Culinary Intelligence” yet, but I’m sure it’s full of good advice. The title of one of its chapters, “It Starts With the Ingredients,” sums up my approach to cooking.

I had the right things on hand tonight when I came home from work a tiny bit earlier than usual. I put a savory dinner on the table in fifteen minutes, which gave me enough just enough time to eat a meal with my children before they went to bed, and before they’re all grown up.

Here’s how I did it (Pinta took the pictures!)

Super Speedy Spinach-Sausage with Truffles

I diced some garlic.

I sliced some D’Artagnan chicken-truffle sausages and browned them gently in a large frying pan. As soon as they were brown, I took them out of the pan and added some olive oil and sautéed the garlic in the residue from the sausages, building a flavor base. I tossed some crushed red pepper in to the pan. (Pinta tried but couldn't capture these steps).

Then I added spinach. Prewashed is key for saving time.

My next ingredient was pre-cooked (read left-over) spaghetti. (But if you wanted to make if fresh, it wouldn't cost you any time, just make boiling water your first step, and then it can cook while you chop the garlic, brown the sausages, etc).

 Then I combined everything.

And then I stirred it all about and grated some Parmesan over it.

And voila, it was all done.

 

Speedy Weeknight Dinner: Salmon Broccoli Fried Rice

In a perfect world, a married couple would communicate like an ace jazz band—fluidly, intuitively, and easily. In the kitchen, the husband might solo on the saxophone-stove and the wife might hold the beat chopping vegetables on the counter. In real life, trying to coordinate cooking time in the kitchen between two working spouses can sound less like Ornette Coleman and more like your twelve-year-old nephew falling down a set of stairs with his saxophone in his mouth. Ouch.

But sweet music can be made—it just takes some planning. The other night, I knew I was going to be home late. Santa Maria served the kids salmon and broccoli while I was still at work, and I asked her to cook some extra fish and vegetable, which I whipped into a savory dish of fried rice within minutes of coming in the door. Here’s how:

• Cook a pot of rice ahead of time (it's always a good idea to have one one hand)
• Do the same with a head of broccoli, cut into florets
• And cook some salmon
• Dice a small onion
• Dice an inch or more of peeled fresh ginger
• Dice a couple of cloves of garlic
• Crack one or two eggs and beat slightly
• Juice half a lemon

Brown the onion in a large frying pan with Canola or other vegetable oil.

Add the ginger and garlic, and sauté briefly.

Toss in the rice, salmon, and broccoli, and continue to stir.

Add the egg, stirring.

Add some soy sauce and the lemon, and you’re done when the egg is cooked. Garnish with fresh basil, if you happen to have some on hand.

I recently wrote about why it’s important to undercook fish. Cook it too long, and the oils in it can oxidize and cause a fishy flavor. Undercook it, and it will keep that fresh taste. Keep that in mind if you want to make a dish like this. It takes a light touch, just like making good music. 

Salmon Fried Rice with Broccoli

One of my go-to meals around the house is a simple combination of salmon, rice, and broccoli. It’s a go-to meal for me, but Santa Maria tends to think of it as a go-away meal—she doesn’t like it.  She can’t argue with it though, because it’s perfectly healthy, and if one is hungry enough, perfectly tasty.

Still, I see her point, and for months, if not years, I’ve been trying to figure out a way to make the salmon taste better. I tried making sauces with ginger and rice wine, ginger and red wine, ginger and soy sauce, garlic and rice wine, garlic and red wine, garlic and soy sauce. Nothing ever worked, and more often than not I would have to throw the sauce in the garbage and give up.

Tonight, though, I nailed it. I was home late from work, and Santa Maria had already cooked a piece of salmon and steamed some broccoli. That morning, I had made a pot of rice, so that was ready, too.

I wasn’t really in the mood for cold salmon, cold broccoli, and cold rice, and I cast aside my past experiences, didn’t consider the failures that had graced the frying pan recently, and started thinking.

Fried rice with ginger and garlic came to mind. A chili pepper would be a nice touch. And a bit of egg could bind things together. The broccoli and the salmon, broken into pieces, would warm in the pan with the rice. As I cooked, it looked and smelled promising. I finished the dish with a splash of white-wine vinegar, and I knew I was on to something. It tasted just great, and I’m sure I’ll be making it again soon.

 

Fried Rice with Salmon and Broccoli

• A few florets of broccoli, steamed
• A quarter of half pound fillet of salmon, pan fried or steamed until cooked, crumbled into small pieces
• 1 or 2 garlic cloves, minced
• A piece of ginger, about a half-inch long, peeled and minced
• 1 chili pepper
• A cup or so of rice, already cooked
• An egg, slightly beaten
• Canola, or other vegetable oil
• White wine vinegar

In a large frying pan on high heat, sauté the minced garlic and ginger for a few minutes in the canola oil, until it is fragrant.

Add the rice and keep stirring with a spatula

Add the salmon and the broccoli

Add the egg, and keep stirring

Keep it on the heat until the egg is cooked

Finish with a splash of white-wine vinegar

Kale Salad SmackDown

When both parents work, life gets a bit like tag-team wrestling. I was home last night at 7:25, and Santa Maria had the girls ready for bed. I kissed them goodnight and started to think about dinner for myself. Santa Maria put on some makeup and headed out to a work event.

Earlier in that afternoon, she had a craving for kale. The Park Slope Food Coop was out of lacinato kale, and only had purple-stem kale. Both are fairly similar, so she bought it. Taking it home, she discovered one key difference—she didn’t need to pull the stem out before making the Fly Sky High Kale Salad.  She liked this convenience a great deal.

Santa Maria left the kitchen and the rest of the house in perfect shape. More than perfect, actually. She had grated the Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, cut half a lemon, and toasted some pine nuts for me. All I needed to do was wash the kale, chop it, and start cooking.

I wanted more than a salad for dinner, though, so I added a few things to the dish. Taking a nod from Pinta, who had combined penne with her kale the first night she tasted it, I decided to pair it with a bit of leftover spaghetti. I didn’t think kale and pasta and cheese would satisfy me, so I added prosciutto  (and some garlic, for good measure).

I cooked the kale the same way as the salad, fried up the prosciutto and chopped it, and warmed the pasta in the microwave. I tossed everything in with the kale when it was finished, gave it a quick stir, and sat down to enjoy it.

Pinta had other ideas, though. She was having a hard time going to sleep, and she made a couple of curtain calls. Twice she called out. The first time I went to her, I leaned in close and asked her what she needed in a whisper (so as not to wake her sister). “You smell like Bolognese,” she said. I told her about my dinner. She said she needed water. The next time she called out, we made a trip down the hall to use the bathroom. On her way back to her room, I gave her a hug and she said, “You smell like prosciutto.” That girl was paying attention.

Software companies release beta versions of their product all the time, but I’m not going to stoop to that level. I don’t think this recipe is quite complete. I used too much of the ham (I was hungry, and I threw in four pieces), and the dish lacked balance. Though I was happy to have it while wrestling with my parenting duties, I'm going to have to go back to the mat on this one.

Gallery Opening (Almost) Over: Must Be Time to Boil Water

Last night was a “put a pot of boiling water on the minute you come in the door” kind of night. I had taken Nina and Pinta to the opening of “Eat/Art,” at the Atlantic Gallery, where I have three drawings on exhibition,  but my anxiety about a looming work deadline combined with Santa Maria’s exhaustion from a lack of sleep the night before and the children’s general state of fussiness because of lingering head colds (see lack of sleep, above), had me hightailing it out of the gallery well before the opening was over.

We got home and needed to eat. I had thought that I’d be out late, and consequently hadn’t really planned  anything. The pot of boiling water is a good anchor in times like that, and sure enough, I decided on a simple dish of pasta and jar sauce, supplemented by super-quick Hot Robot Spinach.

A friend of mine recently gave me a jar of Victoria marinara sauce, after reading in a post of mine about how  hard it is to find sugar-free commercial sauces. She said it was an old favorite of hers. I’d been holding onto it for a situation like the one last night. The sauce is clean and fresh tasting. It is quite delicious, and apparently made right here in Brooklyn. I'll be looking for more soon, I'm sure.