But I just had the most amazing puff pastry tart for lunch — baked with layers of crumbled soft feta, balsamic/thyme/oregano caramelized onions, kalamata olives, figs and tomatoes tossed in olive oil, and then topped off with Marcona almonds. It made me wish I had some plums to toss in…

A lot of people like burgers made with high fat meat, but when I make my own, I usually favor lean meat with lots of stuff in it. This recipe for Beef, Mint, and Pepperoncini Burgers with Lemon-Feta Sauce and Tomato Relish introduced me to the concept last year — once you add a cup of chopped mint and pepperoncinis to a pound of ground meat, you realize you can do anything. I’ve experimented with combinations of roasted garlic, sundried tomatoes, cheeses, herbs of all sort, and whatever else I find in my fridge, but I think that mint burger holds up best. I don’t really like many things on burgers with buns, though, because it’s so unwieldy, so I generally eat it with a knife and fork.

When I saw a recipe for Grilled Pork Burgers in Sunday Suppers at Lucques, I was excited, but a bit uneasy — they have lots of stuff in them, but they turned out to be one of the fattiest things I’ve ever made. And they’re so gloriously good.

They’re actually triple pork burgers, made up of pork, chorizo, and bacon, plus seasonings like cumin, thyme, garlic, shallots, and sliced chile de arbol. And fyi, the linked recipe is different from the recipe in the book, where those seasonings are first cooked and cooled before being added to the meat; I even toasted and ground my own cumin seeds, too. The linked recipe says this version, including a hamburger bun, has 53 grams of fat.

But the book takes it further, recommending a brioche bun, manchego cheese, aioli, romesco, and arugula. I got around to all of them but the arugula. Thankfully, the book does not give nutritional info.

So, this was the final thing, complete with that hulking beast of a patty and, um, perky brioche bun from Bouchon Bakery. I was concerned that all of the flavors and textures would become jumbled, but they worked together very well, with an emphasis on spice and smoke and pork and unctuousness. If anything, the manchego gets a bit lost if sliced too thin, which is often the case with cheese in burgers like this, so be sure to put a lot if you really to taste it; we put ours on too late, too, and it didn’t melt all the way.

The romesco was very strong and spicy on its own, but it settled right into the burger. You can find the recipe within this Romesco Potatoes recipe, following steps 1, 3, and 4, or go ahead and make the whole recipe, doubling the amount of romesco so there’s enough for the burgers; btw, I had leftover romesco and just put it on virtually everything I eat now and the potatoes get a rave review here.

For the aioli, I just made mayonnaise in my food processor and added garlic I’d made into a paste.

After two meals of these burgers that used up all 4 buns that I bought, we happened to watch a show about a chili cook off, and I began to get a craving for chili. I thought about all the leftover pork burger meat that I still had to get through before I could even think about making chili until I realized that the burger meat would be a perfect base for chili — being already loaded with cumin, peppers, garlic, etc; the thyme was a slight wildcard, but I figured it could add depth. I’d only made chili once before years ago, but after looking at some recipes, I got a general idea of what to do and winged it from there. I just had to brown the meat, saute onions and garlic, add more spices (like ancho chili powder, cumin, pepper flakes, and a touch of cocoa powder for depth of color and flavor), cook it down with some canned tomatoes and liquid, and add beans at the end. I also drained the meat after browning it, because, seriously, if I only gained one pound in France that’s now gone, I’d feel a bit silly bulking up here because of triple pork meals and ice cream sandwiches.

So, the amazing burgers turned into amazing chili that’s even further enhanced by a dollop of romesco (and a little aioli, if you’re in a very certain mood and maybe think of it like rouille in bouillabaisse) and the manchego finally gets its due, grated generously on top.

Out of Cindy Pawlcyn’s restaurants in the Napa Valley, I have to admit that I like the mellow Cindy’s Backstreet Kitchen more than the bustling Mustards Grill, but both have excellent food. So, until maybe a CBK cookbook comes out, I’m exploring her Mustards Grill cookbook.

Mongolian Pork Chops is a signature dish at Mustards, and although I really liked my incarnation, I’m curious about what it would taste like their heritage breed pork, as opposed to my Ralph’s (where I couldn’t find a single non-boneless pork chop).  Anyway, I think that the Mongolian aspect has to do with the bit of spicy bite they have, which is so well rounded out by the cilantro.  Like many recipes for a marinade, the experience can either be as easy as pulling these relatively common components out of your cupboard/fridge and augmenting them with some fresh seasonings, or as difficult as an all out jar and seasoning buying binge at the market — or in my case, binging at the market, assembling the marinade in an empty water bottle and flying it on down to LA, where my boyfriend and his grill reside.  At least many ingredients will keep for next time, and it’s a reliable marinade that can be used for other meats, like ribs or chicken, if you want.  And definitely baste while grilling — why not have as much flavor as possible?

Speaking of that, Mustards serves them with Chinese-Style Mustard Sauce and Braised Red Cabbage.  We just had grilled artichokes. They were steamed for about 30 mins first (until soft), and then grilled until they were a little charred on each side.  Something about grilling them makes them extra meaty and deep in flavor — no sauce necessary.
Here is a link to the Mongolian Pork Chops recipe with an article about it.

I’ve been trying to eat slightly lighter this week after all those restaurant meals I had last weekend. My standard dinner salad is just baby greens, artichoke hearts, feta, and sun-dried tomatoes (with the oil adhered to them as the dressing), but I decided to mix it up with this more indulgent Thomas Keller recipe from The French Laundry Cookbook; the recipe can be found at the end of this linked article (ignore its title).

It’s “Parmigiano-Reggiano Custard with Romaine Lettuce, Anchovy Dressing, and Parmesan Crisps.” More concisely: “fancy Caesar Salad. And of course, I started at about 3pm.

It’s actually not a very hard recipe. It just has a lot of components: the custard, the dressing, the croutons, the cheese crisps, and the lettuce. The custard needs 45 minutes to steep initially, 30 minutes to bake, and then 2 hrs to chill. The instructions for the dressing offhandedly mention that the anchovies should be soaked in milk for 30 mins, and then you blend it all, and chill for 2 hrs. Oh, and there’s a balsamic glaze that takes 2 to 3 hrs to reduce, but I didn’t make it because I don’t like that too much and there’s already balsamic in the dressing. The croutons, cheese crisps, and lettuce are ready in a snap, though.

I’ve found that with a lot of seemingly difficult recipes, there’s rather little work; it’s mostly just waiting for something to heat, soak, mix, set, or chill. I worked on other things between making the custard and the dressing and actually eating. It just helped that I happened to be home at 3pm. But, all of the components can be held for more than one day, so when I make this the next night from leftover components, it’ll take all of 5 minutes.

I made this as a big dinner salad with torn leaves instead of chiffonade leaves, but it’s meant to be more like a cheese course. The picture in The French Laundry Cookbook shows the whole thing as being as wide as a slice of baguette and a couple inches tall with chiffonade of romaine and a dot of reduced balsamic on the side.

So, I guess mine is more like a Semi-Fancy Caesar Salad:

I was a bit torn on how to plate it. I wanted the custard flat, but not as a well in the middle, so it’s just on the side; cuz really, it’s just a dinner at home. I also toasted the croutons right before eating so that they’d be warm.

After I made it, I understood why the title emphasized the parmigiano-reggiano — it is the star of the dish. The custard was the essence of the cheese’s flavor, and mine turned out more towards a goat cheese texture than flan, which I prefer for this. Combined with the parmesan crisp, which of course is the same cheese in different form, it was even more pungent and intricate. The dressing, however, is very, er, subtle; maybe I need to add more salt and pepper to it; or should have subbed red wine vinegar for balsamic, or added worcestershire sauce, or subbed lemon juice for all the vinegar. I might even like it more with the Bouchon House Vinaigrette, described in this post, and so forget about conforming to the Caesar formula.

But I would never mess with the custard.

Spinach is one of my favorite foods, and I can only wish that I’d thought of this recipe at Farmgirl Fare myself because it uses it to such great effect. Back in my college days when I barely cooked, sauteed baby spinach and rice, with salt and pepper, was a rather common meal for me; the flavor combination was enough for me to enjoy such an ascetic meal (oh, how my palate has developed). So, this soup builds on that meal and makes it much, much better — it has a small amount of rice cooked into it and a rich background of onions and stock. It’s so easy, and so satisfying.

Susan doesn’t have a picture posted, apparently from soup pic overload, but its color is one of my favorite aspects… Emerald, it is.

I followed the recipe for the most part, except that I substituted 4 out of the 6 cups of chicken stock with vegetable stock because I was reluctant to let chicken flavors dominate my spinach, and I left some chunks of onion and little bits of rice just for some textural contrast. I’m usually a little reluctant to add good olive oil for cooked foods, but I’m glad that I used my Stonehouse Extra Virgin Sevillano Olive Oil that I bought at the SF Ferry Building. I think that its punch of grass and pepper came through very nicely.

As far as variations go, there are many… and by variations, I mean adding one or two elements to it after you’ve had it as is a few times.

It’s fantastic hot, but I’ve also been eating it cold. For me, the chilled quality adds an element of Spring, and the flavor remains quite sprightly. I think that this would make a great simple amuse-bouche at a restaurant. Served in a shot-sized glass, maybe topped with creme fraiche, to get guests excited for a fresh, flavorful meal to come.

When hot, I once added a dollop of homemade mayonnaise, which added a spiciness from dry mustard and cayenne, as well as a creaminess; I used adding aioli to bouillabaisse as a model.

I added chopped sorrel to it once, but it almost overpowered the soup. A conservative garnish of more subtle herbs, like chives or parsley, or maybe a even little roasted fennel, would work better, though.

I also once had it as a backdrop for some Trader Joe’s Thai Shrimp Gyoza, which worked fine, but I think little ravioli or dumplings, like beet or cheese, would be even better.

It’s also a very good snack in the afternoon.

And then, for a variation on a variation, I’d be happy to eat it plain and hot again…