I have no idea when I may have first had chicken cakes. All I know is that, just like their crabby cousins, one bite was enough to sell me. For years my favorite brunch item was the Zippy Cake (image above) served by a local restaurant — a delicious meal made up of a crispy polenta and chicken cake, tangy tomato sauce, and a poached egg, topped with micro greens. It was the kind of meal I took a picture of every time I ate it, just to fondly remember it by. Sadly the Zippy Cake is no longer made and it lives on only in those photos and in my longing taste-buds.
When I came across a recipe for chicken corn cakes in Janice Cole’s cookbook+memoir, Chicken and Egg, I jotted down the recipe for a craving day. While her cakes aren’t the Zippy of my dreams, the recipe makes a great base to make a variety of chicken cakes. The recipe below is modified from Ms. Cole’s but stands alone as it’s very own patty of chicken goodness. So on this day, the last one of 2012, I think back in fond remembrance of all the Zippy Cakes of years past and look forward to all the new cakes to come. Cheers!
Hi. My name is Leah. And I’m addicted to hash. Nooooooo, not the kind you get in Amsterdam. The kind you eat. Wait, that came out wrong. We’re not baking brownies here folks, we’re making hash—a coarse mixture of ingredients. We’ve talked about this before. Give me a bunch of veggies and I will likely make hash. It’s easy, it’s tasty, it’s it’s it’s, well, it’s hash for the love of all things good and pure!
Hash is a dish best served warm and is a great way to use up leftovers or stray veggies left in the crisper drawer. This Pulled Pork Hash was served as a brunch dish, complete with poached egg on top, but you could serve it for lunch or dinner as well, complete with a poached egg on top.
Recently I started a new tradition at our house: Sunday supper. Each week different guests are invited over for a meal. They bring the wine, I provide the food, and together, memories are made. [Insert remainder of Hallmark card here]. The first week I made tilapia tacos, but then I forgot to take pictures. Whoops. I mean, it’s not like I’m used to writing a food blog or anything, eh?
This week’s guests, Amelia and Matt, are vegetarians, which presented a nice challenge. I think sometimes when omnivores cook for vegetarians it can be hard to think past pasta. An added perk is that any or all of the items from our feast below would make great non-traditional additions to Christmas dinner. Bonus! This week’s menu:
- Saffron risotto
- Warm garlicked tomatoes
- Thyme roasted carrots
- Agave ginger baked pears
Agave Ginger Baked Pears, carrots, leah charney, pears, risotto, Saffron Risotto, Sunday Supper, Thanksgiving, Thyme Roasted Carrots, tomatoes, Warm Garlicked Tomatoes
Election night is exciting for me like the way the SuperBowl is exciting for others. The BFF is really into politics (“junkie” doesn’t begin to come close to explaining his fervor) so watching election coverage is made all the more enthralling when a 34-year-old man is jumping up and down, skipping in and out of the room, and talking to the talking heads talking to us from the T.V.
So for election day eats we needed fast, easy, and hands off so attention could be focused to more important things like watching states turn from yellow to red or blue. Y’all know about my oddly erotic (not really) feelings about pie crusts so naturally, pie-crust pizza served all my needs last night. Quick, easy, delicious. This recipe is a win for America, obviously.
Say “hachiya” and folks might think you’ve got a head cold… The Hachiya persimmon has a funny name, it looks a little funny, and don’t you dare eat it unless it’s completely ripe or it’ll taste more than funny! How do you know when it’s ripe? Well, that’s funny too–a ripe Hachiya feels like a water balloon, all squishy rolling around in your hand. Persimmons, unlike money, grow on trees with ripe fruits that are sweet, soft, and a little chewy. They look a little like an orange tomato, a very seasonally appropriate shade of orange. And they make for great bread.
This recipe is adapted from David Lebovitz‘s adaptation of James Beard’s recipe, so it’s post-postmodern? Heh. Lebovitz’s recipe is for two loaves but I only had persimmons enough to make 1 loaf so I halved the recipe…but forgot to halve the bourbon! Now that I’ve sobered up, below is a recipe with corrected measurements for you. Remember if you are at high altitude that you may need to adjust the baking soda.
Any gardener will tell you that the end of the season spells one thing: green tomatoes. Tomatoes, a delightfully easy (and tasty) item to grow at home, ripen throughout the course of the summer depending upon their breed, time planted, and if seedlings or established plants were placed in the soil. I grow mine from seed and plant them after the last frost (which in Denver means mid-may). That also means I have to cover my garden with blankets when it starts getting cold, as the garden is still producing through September and into October. When the first real freezes come (any time from mid-October to early November) I have to haul all my bounty inside to ripen there.
Last year, just before Halloween, friends were posting on Facebook about how green tomatoes are only good for frying. My response was akin to something out of Forrest Gump… Green tomato salsa, green tomato chutney, pickled green tomatoes, grilled green tomatoes, green tomatoes topped with goat cheese, green tomato parmesana, and so on. So here’s one more green tomato idea to add to the list!
Being from Southern stock, I am always a fan of being Southern fried and satisfied but it’s not always, er, light. Enter the oven “fried” chicken breast. I’ve seen recipes with cornmeal, flour, or panko floating around online, but my old standby breading is the same as the one my granny always used—Jiffy Corn Muffin Mix. While I’ve never made the quintessential corn muffins the mix was made specifically for, I have breaded many a piece of fish, eggplant or green tomato slice, pork chop, and chicken breast with that delicious stuff. Just like Granny, I prefer it to the grittier and grainier plain old cornmeal as the Jiffy is soft, sifted, and coats marvelously. Eat up friends, just like Granny always did. Sort of.
It took a village to make this green chili. Almost literally. I believe no less than five people were involved in the making of this chili. Which was unnecessary, but decidedly more fun. Not surprisingly, cooking with friends is more fun that cooking alone. And cooking with friends who will help you make a roux when you’re whining about how terrified you are to burn the flour? Even better. It’s football season and fall is upon us, which my buddy John lovingly referred to the other day as “chili making time.” So here ya go buddy, a green chili made with beer-braised pork butt. You’re welcome.
This green chili, like any worth making, is made in a multi-part process. The recipe for the porter braised pork is modified from a recipe by Denver chef John Broening (Duo, Olivéa) and was originally published in the Denver Post some years back. It’s the perfect base for a green chili (though I’m sure any pork made this way would taste delicious on it’s own too).
Tart was not my nickname in high school…I don’t think. Tarts have an open top and can be sweet or savory. Make of that what you will. Jokes! Terrible ones!
Years ago there was a restaurant in Denver called A La Tomate that made delicious pizza-type tarts, savory but with a buttery pastry dough crust. Oh my. It was just as good as it sounded! Sadly the restaurant is long gone but their inspiration lives on in my own tarte à la tomate, which is a perfect end of summer/Indian summer/fall dish. If you’re feeling extra fancy you can even make your own pie/pastry crust. Otherwise just buy a refrigerated one at the store and impress your friends with your knowledge of French food terms instead.