Easy Recipes

Theres always a thrill of pride when you figure out how to coax some restaurant-only type dish out of your own humble kitchen. And find out how its been within reach all along. Blistered loaves of bread, say, or an airy souffle. Or perfectly seared fish.

I have come a bit of a ways from my always-overcooked-all-the-time method of fish preparation (the secret: pull it from the heat just before you think its done, a method I long heard but only recently followed).  But even though my technique improved, I could never get that perfect treatment I found in restaurants, where the fish is butter-soft and just barely flaking, yet the skin is a beautifully crisped omega-filled chip. What sort of kitchen wizardry are they using?

Turns out its surprisingly user-friendly. All you have to do is get a good piece of fish, glug of oil, and use a ridiculously high heat. I picked up a fillet of steelhead from a local shop, followed the instructions carefully laid out on this blog, paired it with a tangle of salad made from a fennel bulb and dollar bag of arugula, and turned out a meal worthy of any restaurant (and if the blog and my own homes case study are any indication, this restaurant-worthy assessment will be a universal reaction). Who knew that simply turning up the flame (and conquering my fear of fire/oil burns) would yield such an amazing result? Its the sort of kitchen magic that should be trotted out at dinner parties (except for the whole smell-of-hot-oil-and-fish part), but its also the sort of kitchen magic that you should bust out any time you get a good piece of fish. Its the sort of magic thats going into the regular kitchen rotation.


Perfectly Seared Fish with Fennel Arugula Salad

serves 2
inspired by Kenji Lopez-Alt, as prepared by The Amateur Gourmet

Dressing:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon meyer lemon juice, or mild vinegar
dollop honey
salt and pepper
Salad:
2 handfuls arugula
1 small bulb fennel, or 1/2 large bulb fennel, shaved into thin slivers
1 orange, supremed into sections
1 handful olives, pulled into pieces

Fish:
3/4 pound skin-on fish fillets, all pin bones removed, cut into two pieces
2-3 tablespoons high heat oil, such as grapeseed or canola
salt and pepper
olive oil

Take the fish out of the refrigerator, and let sit at room temperature for a few minutes to take the chill off. Mix together the dressing ingredients until combined. Toss the salad with the dressing, and divide onto two plates.

Blot the fish dry with paper towels or brown paper bags, and season each side with salt. Heat a large skillet or two small ones over a high heat. Add the oil, and let get really hot, almost to the point of smoking (handy tip: when the oils hot, if you stick a wooden spoon in it should bubble vigorously around the edges). Add the fish, skin side down, and turn down the heat just slightly. Cook until the skin detaches from the skillet, and the fillet slides around a bit when you shake the pan (~2 minutes). If its a thick fillet, wait another minute past this point, then flip the fillets with a spatula (in order to avoid dramatic fires that can result from hot oil splashes, I pull the pan away from the burner for the few seconds it takes to execute this maneuver). Cook on the other side until the fillets are cooked through, another two minutes or so, depending upon thickness (Lopez-Alt recommends cooking to 120 degree internal temperature, but I just went by sight and then tested them).
Use a spatula to remove from the pan, let the fry oil drain a bit, then plate with the salad. Season with salt and pepper, and drizzle with additional olive oil.

I dont always travel well. I try to be game for lifes adventures and experiences, but more often than not find myself overcome for a powerful longing for the pleasures of home -- namely my dog and my contoured neck-supporting pillow. And fresh vegetables.

At various times in my office-bound life, I have been part of lunch collectives. I got the idea several years ago, when I was working at NYU and watched some of the grad students in a neighboring lab try to save their meager grad student wages by having lunch together every week. Each day, one student took a turn bringing in food for the group, and then the five of them would cycle through again the next week. Cooking for five twenty-something mouths is definitely a big undertaking. But when you average it over the week, you ultimately end up cooking less, saving money, and eating better.

In years since, Ive brought this practice to bear in a couple of my workplaces. Usually its been limited to once or twice a week, to accommodate varying schedules and available leftovers. But its still a win-win proposition: after establishing the initial ground rules (various food allergies, restrictions, and common definitions of healthy food (we end up being fond of both fruits, vegetables and butterfat)), you sit down with your coworkers to enjoy a delicious glimpse into someone elses kitchen. Even if the meal is nothing more than a homemade soup and salad, its still miles better than the greasy takeout options in walking distance. But for me, really, it comes down to something else: an excuse to indulge in some dairy.

Living with a someone whos lactose intolerant, Im probably much healthier than I would be if left to my own devices. But Im also left with a powerful craving for cream. Last week I made this soup for lunch club, which fulfills both dietary preferences at once: on its own, it is vegetal and lovely, with sweetly soft-cooked fennel and carrots touched with a bit of fresh orange juice. But for others (like myself and my lunch club), stirring in just the tiniest bit of sour cream gives it a lovely, complex, barely-there tang, giving its lightness a bit of balancing heft. I felt compelled to round out my lunch club contribution with a batch of broccoli-cheese knishes and some cookies (were still in the impress-the-co-workers first round), but it would be lovely on its own, with just a bit of crusty bread and a salad if you want.

And I must belatedly amend last weeks post: I talked about a dramatic chocolate dessert, and lamented that, barring this confection, my life tends to be free of sitcom-worthy drama. But while away at the beach this weekend, I was reminded of a jaunt to a friends parents beachfront cottage last year, wherein one of the guests used hand dishwashing soap instead of the meant-for-machines version in the dishwasher. Acres of suds spilled across the floor. To be fair, the machine didnt walk itself across the kitchen, nor did this occur as we were frantically trying to clean up after throwing an ill-fated party while our parents were out of town. But still: drama!


Creamy (or not) Carrot Fennel Soup

tweaked from Amanda Hesser in The New York Times
yields 2 quarts

2 Tbsp olive oil
2 medium fennel bulbs, washed and thinly-sliced
3 lbs carrots, peeled and sliced into fat coins
2 cloves garlic, thickly sliced
~ 6 cups water or stock (or half of each) - honestly I forgot to measure this ingredient, and details on freestyling are below
1 tsp salt
1/3 cup fresh-squeezed orange juice
dash maple syrup
1/4 cup sour cream
salt and white pepper to taste

Heat the oil in a large soup pot over a medium flame. Add the fennel, carrots and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally, until they soften and just start to color (~10-20 minutes, depending on how large your pot is). Add the water/stock until it just covers the vegetables. Bring to a boil, and then lower the heat until its just high enough to maintain a simmer. Simmer uncovered until the carrots are meltingly tender, ~45 minutes. Longer doesnt hurt.

Let the soup cool slightly, and puree in batches (I prefer it just shy of smooth). Place it back in the pot, and add additional broth/water as needed to get a nice consistency. Add the orange juice, maple syrup, sour cream, and salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot.