The Gravy Train

panko crusted asparagus

Panko-crusted asparagus makes a great weeknight side dish

Here's the thing about asparagus and me: we have kind of a tortured relationship.  I mean tortured here in the most superficial sense, the kind of tortured that you felt when you were 14 years old and had an imaginary relationship with that boy you liked in Geometry.  It's the kind of tortured that doesn't keep you up at night, except when it does.  

I love asparagus when it's cooked well, when it's green and has just a little bit of bitter bite to it.  I hate asparagus when I can taste each and every tough fiber in it.  I absolutely despise it as a throwaway vegetable on a $30 plate of food because the chef felt like the plate "needed something green."  It has much too strong a flavor to be relegated to the status of wallflower.

Since asparagus is in season, I've made it my mission to figure out a way to make it delicious without having to spend too much time in the kitchen.  This quick and easy panko-crusted asparagus that pairs well with Asian main courses, like miso-marinated salmon.  For an even easier, to-die-for Asian salmon, try Skinny Taste's version, here.

Panko-Crusted Asparagus with Lemon Zest (2-4 servings)

1 bunch asparagus, rinsed and trimmed
Juice from 1 lemon, including zest (approximately 2 tablespoons)
1/2 cup panko bread crumbs
2 tablespoons butter
freshly grated Parmesan cheese (optional)
salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 400 degrees.  While oven is heating, arrange asparagus in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.  Season generously with salt and pepper and roast for 20-25 minutes until tender.

When the asparagus is almost done, melt butter in a small skillet.   Add breadcrumbs, stirring often until panko is golden brown.  Immediately remove from heat (panko burns quickly) and stir in lemon juice and zest.  

Remove asparagus from the oven and transfer to a serving plate.  Top with panko bread mixture and grated cheese (if using).  Serve immediately.

a healthier mac, in a way

With fall vegetables abundantly available, I'm on the lookout for new ways to cook up our bounty.  On Sunday afternoon, I found myself with a pile of freshly chopped, peeled and seeded butternut squash.  Usually after the squash is broken down, I default into my usual M.O. of making a soup out of the soft, roasted innards.  

I'm happy to report that we're in a squash soup rut no more.  Of course my old gal pal Martha came through, like she always does, with an intriguing recipe for butternut squash mac 'n' cheese.  The hubby and I have a real weakness for the curative properties of an extremely fattening, completely unhealthy mac and cheese, so this alternative seemed like a good way for us to get our fix without overdoing it.

Amazingly, the sweetness of the butternut squash was a great counterbalance to the salty sharpness of the cheddar I used.  The squash also gave creaminess to the dish where heavy cream and butter ordinarily would.  Next time, though, I'll probably add a little more nutmeg and salt than the recipe called for -- I found the seasoning to be almost thorougly absorbed by the squash.

What are you cooking up this week?

For Martha's recipe on butternut squash mac 'n' cheese, click here.  For my usual, no-holds barred, amazingly rich and not at all healthy version, click here.

a quick scone for a leisurely tea

Scones for tea time at Casa de Gravy

One of the habits I've tried to bring back with me from Sri Lanka is afternoon tea.  When the hubby, the Gravy Baby and I were lazing about in the mountains last month, surrounded by tea plantations, our hostess at the estate house would serve us a tray of tea accompanied by some cake or scones topped with cream and jam.  We'd sip our tea and nibble on our warm treats while the Gravy Baby rolled around with his toys, and I just loved being able to slow down and take a minute to relax.  I vowed that I'd try to do that every once in awhile when were at home, during the Gravy Baby's naps.

Well, as it turns out, there were a couple of flaws in my plan.  First of all, the appeal of afternoon tea is that everything is served to me on a platter, and all I have to do is pour, sit back and enjoy.  When I'm alone, the only person to prepare my tea is me, which means I have to start setting it up a good half-hour before I can sit down to enjoy it.  Secondly, the Gravy Baby went on a nap strike shortly after we came back from Sri Lanka, and suddenly my blissful 2-hour breaks in the afternoon were no more.  The dainty accompanying tea snack I'd envisioned having along with my tea was whittled down to a smear of peanut butter on toast.  This was eaten standing up with the Gravy Baby balanced on my hip, followed by gulping down my tea as soon as it was cool enough to do so (and sometimes, scalding my esophagus when I discovered it wasn't).

So much for relaxing.

Above left: whipped cream substitutes for traditional British clotted cream along with Danish Selection raspberry jam; above left: a closeup of the easiest scones I've ever made

I'd pretty much accepted that my best-laid plans had gone awry, despite a few attempts to make a quick bread or some sort of alternate snack that I could whip up in a jif.  Then I discovered quite possibly the easiest, quickest recipe for scones I've ever found.  The recipe promised at least a handful of scones in under 20 minutes, and given that I've had some truly terrible, dried-out scones before, I wasn't very optimistic that these scones would be much different.

It turns out I was wrong.  With my trusty food processor and a small juice glass that I used as a biscuit cutter, not only did I beat the clock at under 20 minutes, but the scones were perfectly flaky and buttery, just the way I'd come to enjoy them in Sri Lanka.  Best of all, the recipe uses ingredients I regularly stock in my kitchen, so there wasn't any need to run out to the market.  With the Gravy Baby distracted by his brightly-colored baby "jail," I was even able to crank out some fresh whipped cream for topping the scones.  Along with my new favorite raspberry jam and some delicious Sri Lankan tea, in just about thirty minutes' time I was able to sit down and enjoy my little afternoon break with the Gravy Baby happily bounce, bounce, bouncin' away.

Read more about these easy scones by Mark Bittman here. 

new comfort food, old tricks

Sliced pork tenderloin over creamy parmesan grits and wilted baby spinach, topped with fiery sweet barbecue sauce

Things are really on the up and up for us here at Gravy Central lately.  The Gravy Baby turns 5 months old today, and he's averaging between 11-13 hours of sleep a night, which means that the hubby and I have a little bit of time in the evenings to wind down and catch up with each other.  It also means that I'm not bleary-eyed and dazed during the day, and I find myself with the time and energy not only to tote a 20-pound adorable sack of potatoes all over town, but I'm also trying to cook new dishes in the kitchen again. 

Above, left: grits on a spoon; above right: roasted pork tenderloin resting after roasting

Last week, I was really in the mood for comfort food, so I roasted a pork tenderloin with a fiery and sweet barbecue sauce from the Lee Brothers, my favorite Southern cookbook.  I paired it with creamy Parmesan grits and a bunch of sauteed baby spinach and plated everything all together so it became one cheesy, creamy, spicy, sweet and crunchy pile of goodness.

As we were winding down and recounting our day to each other later that night, the hubby told me that it wasn't the meal he was expecting to come home to that night (read: I'm so glad you didn't make me a big salad for the third night in a row), but it totally felt comforting and right.  I took the compliment, but at the same time, it's hard to feel wrong about indulging in cheesy grits.  Those are good anytime, in my book.

Fiery Roasted Pork Tenderloin (adapted from The Lee Brothers Southern Cookbook)

1/3 cup bourbon (I love cooking with Bulleit Bourbon, but really any will do)
1/3 cup water
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1 tablespoon finely grated fresh ginger
1 jalapeno pepper (the original recipe calls for habanero, but I have a hard time getting habaneros in my neck of the woods)
1 teaspoon finely grated garlic
2 3/4-pound pork tenderloins
3/4 cup sorghum molasses (I used regular molasses, but I think dark brown sugar would've worked fine as a substitute as well)
1/4 cup ketchup
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
salt and pepper to taste
1 tablespoon olive oil

Combine the bourbon, water, vinegar, ginger, chile and garlic in a bowl.  Add the pork tenderloins and turn to coat.  Marinate for one hour, turning every 15-20 minutes.  Preheat oven to 450 degrees (around 225 degrees Celsius).  Remove pork from marinade, brushing off excess.  In a saucepan, pour excess marinade and reduce by 1/3rd.  Add ketchup and molasses and simmer until thick.

Heat an ovenproof skillet over high heat.  Coat pork tenderloins with olive oil and sear until browned, about 3-4 minutes per side.  Pour sauce over pork and immediately slide into oven, baking for 15-20 minutes or until a thermometer measures the internal temp between 145-150 degrees Fahrenheit (note: the Lee Brothers recipe doesn't say when to pull the pork out of the oven, but I find that using a meat thermometer for roasting meats to be absolutely essential to ensuring the perfect doneness).  Let pork rest for 10 minutes, then carve against the grain into thick slices.

Creamy Parmesan Grits

1 1/3 cups stone-ground grits
4 cups water
1 cup finely grated Parmesan
1/2 milk
2 tablespoons butter
salt and pepper to taste 

Rinse grits, removing husks that float to the top.  Place in a small saucepan and add water.  Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring frequently, and reduce heat to a low simmer immediately after the grits and water reach a rolling boil.  Continue simmering for 15-20 minutes until water is almost completely absorbed into the grits, then add butter and milk.  Simmer an additional 5-10 minutes until the grits are creamy and thick; add salt and pepper to taste.

Sauteed Baby Spinach

1 clove garlic, minced
3/4 pound to 1 pound baby spinach, rinsed and shaken dry
2 tablespoons olive oil
salt and pepper to taste 

Over medium-high heat, saute garlic in olive oil for about 1 minute.  Add spinach and saute until just wilted.  Add salt and pepper to taste.  Serve immediately.

 

fruit salad days

As I've mentioned before, I really, really love fresh coconut milk, and so the other day I added some to this fresh fruit salad I was making for a brunch (we ladies of leisure enjoy brunching, because it gives us the added advantages of meeting earlier in the morning and involving champagne).  I also threw in a few squeezes from a fresh lime and a tablespoon or two of light brown sugar.  I let the fruit macerate for awhile, and by the time I arrived at the brunch the fruit was sweet as can be and smelled like a Banana Boat kind of day at the beach (and I mean that in the best way possible).

making friends with salad

At the hubby's first poker night last week, which I'm now referring to affectionately as Meatball Tuesday, I made a companion salad at the last minute, fearing our new friends might confuse me for my inner, much chubbier alter ego.  The salad was your basic garden variety, with soft leaves of butter lettuce and freshly sliced tomatoes from the Genting Highlands (a part of Malaysia that, as far as I can tell, grows vegetables simply because it's one of the cooler climates in the country and is also known for its casinos).  To make it a little fancier, I scrounged around in our refrigerator and settled on making a yogurt-based salad dressing with lime and cilantro.  The dressing was last-minute but turned out to be the surprise hit of the evening.  I guess you can make friends with salad, after all.