http://www.newyorker.com/talk/2010/09/13/100913ta_talk_sullivan#ixzz0yln7iDWS

“Apropos of nothing, Jojo brought out the cheese,” Burson recalled. “She said, ‘Have I ever shown you this? It’s a cheese!’ ”

Awesome.

I’ll start with a minor confession, which may or may not be relevant by the time this post is over. I spent the vast majority of my youth really hating couscous.  I think it’s because in the sixth grade my science teacher made us each eat a handful of couscous grain by grain in order to demonstrate what it’s like to be a baleen whale trying to sustain itself on plankton. Maybe I was feeling sensitive–I had a solid wiring of braces at the time, and the resemblance I bore to a baleen whale was at its most striking (especially considering all the junk that got caught up in there. Tween years, I don’t miss you).  Beyond that, I wasn’t totally wowed by its grainy texture.  I didn’t start eating couscous of my own volition until I moved to New York after college. I was grocery shopping with a friend, who pointed out that there was a huge sale on couscous and immediately started filling up her basket. What the hell, I figured, and followed suit. It was super cheap and easy to make–which, let’s be honest, are two incredibly persuasive criteria for recent college grads.

I bring up the questionable relevance of this anecdote because this post isn’t really about couscous the way most of us know couscous. If you haven’t tried Israeli couscous, get ready to fall in love. Israeli couscous is totally different from the grainy stuff we ate in our whale simulation–it’s more like a pearl-shaped pasta.  It takes a little more time to prepare than the stuff you find in a box, but the results are far more spectacular–it has a chewy, satisfying bite that seems otherwise elusive in the Moroccan variety with which most people seem to be familiar.

I got this particular recipe for Israeli couscous from my sister, who put together this delicious and satisfying dish for a potluck dinner. It’s great as a side (especially with salmon, my perennial go-to), but it’s also delightful on its own, either hot or cold.

Toasted Israeli Couscous with Broiled Vegetables (Adapted from Gourmet)

• 1 1/2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
• 1 or 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 3 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 medium zucchini, cut lengthwise into 1/2-inch-thick slices
• 1 yellow summer squash, cut lengthwise into 1/2-inch-thick slices
• 1 red bell pepper, quartered lengthwise
• 1 orange or yellow bell pepper, quartered lengthwise
• 1/2 cup finely chopped red onion
• 3/4 cup toasted Israeli couscous
• 1 3/4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
• 3 tablespoons thinly sliced fresh basil
• Salt and pepper to taste

Preheat your broiler.

Whisk together the balsamic vinegar, garlic, 2 tablespoons of olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste. Toss the sliced zucchini, yellow squash, and bell peppers in half of the dressing in a large bowl, and then let it sit for five minutes or so to marinate.

Broil the vegetables on a pan about 5-7 inches from the heat source for 15 minutes or so until they are browned, turning the vegetables halfway through.  I had to do this in a couple of batches. Transfer the broiled vegetables to a cutting board. When they’re cool, cut them into 1-inch pieces.

While your vegetables are broiling, saute the red onion in a tablespoon of oil in a saucepan over medium-high heat until softened. Add the couscous and saute for another two minutes until the couscous is nice and toasty.

Add your chicken or vegetable broth (or water, if you don’t have either on hand). Cover the saucepan and simmer for 8 to 10 minutes until the couscous is tender. Then stir in the broiled vegetables, basil, the rest of the dressing, and additional salt and pepper. Voila!

Hello readers! After a long absence (which has included some great travel on both coasts), I am back in my tiny apartment and back to writing. Thanks to family and friends for egging me on about why I haven’t posted anything in forever–your enthusiasm has been a great antidote to my laziness.

This summer has totally flown by, but that doesn’t mean that great things haven’t happened in the kitchen. Perhaps my biggest project of the summer was the six dozen cookies I baked for my sister’s bridal shower. My mother and I threw a big party at my parents’ house earlier in the summer to celebrate my sister’s impending nuptials. The theme of the day was something along the lines of “Laid Back Garden Party”–we had sandwiches and grilled vegetables catered, we made a bunch of salads and side dishes, and we poured glass after glass of homemade lemonade and sangria. For dessert, we had a beautiful Sachertorte from Marjolaine Pastry Shop in New Haven. To round things out and balance out the chocolate, I made a bunch of these lovely cornmeal cookies.

I had been itching to make thumbprint cookies for a while, ever since my friend Abby at my old job made a similar recipe for our boss’ office bridal shower last year. The cookie base is sweet, savory, and chewy with just a hint of crunch from the cornmeal. It works well with a variety of different flavors of jam. The recipe that I adapted calls for guava jam or guava paste, which I would have loved to use but couldn’t find. Still, I found that the flavors I used–grapefruit, raspberry, plum cherry, and apricot–were perfectly lovely.

Cornmeal Thumbprint Cookies (Adapted from Bon Appetit, August 1992)

Makes about two dozen cookies

• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/3 cup cornmeal
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
• 1/8 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup of butter (1 stick), room temperature
• 1/2 cup firmly packed brown sugar
• 1 egg yolk
• 3/4 teaspoon vanilla
• Any flavor of jam that you like

Preheat your oven to 350°F. Combine the flour, cornmeal, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt in a bowl. In a large bowl, beat together the butter and brown sugar until it is fluffy. Mix in the egg yolk and vanilla, and then add the dry ingredients. I found in the first batch that I needed to add some egg white in because the dough mixture was a little too crumbly. The following batches were fine with just the yolk. I’d suggest hanging onto the white once you separate the egg–just in case.

Roll the dough into 1-inch balls (maybe the size of a walnut) and arrange them on an ungreased baking sheet, spacing them about 1 1/2 or 2 inches apart. Then comes the fun part! Press your thumb into each one (hence the thumbprint) and fill the indentations with the jam of your choice.

Bake the cookies for about 10 minutes until the bottoms just start to brown. Don’t overbake them! When you take them out of the oven, let them cool on a rack for a bit–or, if you’re like me, stuff your face and try to save some for everyone else (good thing I made six dozen).

In my case, I was looking for some kind of side dish to go with leftover Mexican food. Something with a delightful texture. Something with substance. Something colorful. (Okay, maybe skip that last one–I really just needed a little more to eat.)  Luckily for me, I was equipped with a can of black beans and some frozen corn, and a few other odds and ends.  After a quick jaunt over to Epicurious, I threw this tasty dish together in a matter of minutes.

Quick Black Bean and Corn Salad

(Adapted from Gourmet’s Black Bean, Corn, and Tomato Salad…didn’t have any darn tomatoes!)

• The juice of 1 lemon
• About 2 tablespoons of olive oil (two turns around a large mixing bowl)
• One 15-oz can of black beans, rinsed and drained
• One cup frozen corn kernels, cooked for about 4 minutes in boiling, salted water
• 1 scallion, chopped
• A pinch of cayenne pepper
• Salt and pepper to taste

In a large bowl, whisk together lemon juice and olive oil. Toss in black beans, corn, and chopped scallion. Season with cayenne pepper, salt, and black pepper. That’s it.

Now, this was delicious as is, but I couldn’t help but think of other ways to make the recipe even better. Clearly, having a tomato on hand would have made a huge difference in flavor and texture (and would have added a little more oomph to the color palate, too), though it’s not quite that time of year yet when one can find great tomatoes. I think that some cilantro would have made this dish especially amazing. Maybe some avocado, too. Still, this recipe made a plentiful supply of a tasty salad that was even more delicious for lunch the next day.

Last week, Jason and I played a great game called “Let’s Try to Find a Restaurant on a Saturday Night at 8 with No Reservations and No Wait.”  We walked from his place in the East Village through the Lower East Side and across Soho, peeking into restaurants, wanting to be fed immediately, and finding hour long waits almost everywhere. So much for last minute date night.  Then, while walking down Bleecker, I remembered Cabrito, which is on Carmine Street in the West Village. As if our visit were totally meant to be, there was exactly one open table for two in the restaurant with nobody else to claim it.

I have to admit that my ordering habits in Mexican restaurants tend to be pretty predictable. Nine times out of ten I will go for guacamole and then any kind of dish with carnitas. The last time I had been to Cabrito, though, I was with my friend Marissa, who told me that I had to try their rajas con crema–roasted poblanos in cream, served with tortillas. I became a convert that day. This time around, when Jason and I ordered the rajas, he told me I should try to make it at home. To my delight, Cabrito actually posted their rajas con crema recipe in the Village Voice last  year, so I made this last night for a couple of friends who stopped over for dinner.  Here’s my adapted version.

Rajas con Crema

• 3 whole poblano peppers
• vegetable oil
• A palmful of cilantro leaves
• The juice of 2 limes
• 1 1/2 cups light sour cream (the recipe asks for Mexican crema, but I went to three stores and couldn’t find any, so this is what I did in a pinch. Next time I am going to try the real thing for sure).
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Flour tortillas for serving

First up, you’ve got to roast those poblanos. The cool way to do this is to light up your gas range and just put the pepper directly in the flame until it is charred. I, unfortunately, have a lame electric range in my apartment, so I roasted them in the oven at 450 for about 12 minutes. After that, put them in a bowl, cover it tightly, and let the peppers steam for another 15 minutes or so.  Then they will look like this:

The poblanos will be easy to peel–I was able to take the skin off in only a couple of pieces. After peeling your peppers, cut away the stems and remove the seeds from the inside. Then cut or tear the peppers into strips. Most of recipes that I read suggested wearing rubber gloves for this process, since poblano peppers have pretty significant levels of capsaicin in them (that’s the stuff that makes peppers fiery. It’s also what makes arthritis creams feel warm on your skin). I just went for it with bare hands. If you do that, just make sure you don’t touch your eyes (or, uh, other sensitive parts) before thoroughly washing your hands.

The rest goes really quickly. Heat up a skillet over medium-high heat. Add a drop of vegetable oil and swirl it around, and then sautee the peppers for a minute or so. Add the lime juice and cilantro, stir for a minute, and then add the sour cream. Turn up the heat to high and let the mixture reduce a bit until it thickens. Taste for seasoning.

Then all you do is put a couple of spoonfuls into the middle of a tortilla, fold it into a neat little package, and go to town. I thought they were really good, but they didn’t taste like the ones from Cabrito as much as I wanted them to. I’m positive this was because I couldn’t find Mexican crema. Next time, I’ll definitely go out of my way to get some. I might also try using heavy whipping cream instead of sour cream. All in all, though, it was well worth it to try something so yummy, cheap, and satisfying at home.

Wow, has this girl ever been delinquent. “Update Blog” has been on my google tasks list forever and ever, but somehow this has fallen through the cracks. Since my Superbowl post, I have turned 25 (yay, maybe?) and, perhaps as a result,  have also been trying to make some big life decisions. I have definitely been cooking up a storm as a means of zoning out and soul searching, yet somehow nothing has ended up online. But right now, I’m on the MegaBus back to New York from a hit-and-run trip to Boston. After listening to the NPR Food Podcast and an episode of The Splendid Table (pronounced spuh-lehndid), I’ve realized that the abundant free WiFi and the 2+ hours left on my trip back to NYC gives me little to no excuse not to get back in the game. So now, as I sit here on the top deck of an overheated bus, surrounded by sleeping comrades left and right and with the gorgeous voice of Jeff Tweedy piping through my headphones, I give you meatballs.

This recipe, which was in the January 2010 issue of Bon Appetit, immediately caught my eye, mostly due to the sheer volume of spices that it contains. For me, that was really the selling point. If you know me, you probably know that Jojo’s Kitchen is also Kiki’s Kitchen–I live with my older sister. She’s getting married this October, which will mean that when our lease is up in July, our roomie-hood will come to an end. Despite its diminutive size, our kitchen is surprisingly well-stocked. We have two really full spice racks–one on our counter and one on the wall. I’ve made it sort of a mission of mine that by the time we move out, that I need to use up as many of these spices as possible. (On a side note–you really shouldn’t keep spices for too long anyway. They really lose their oomph. And just think about how tasty your food can be with a little dash of this and that!)

Anyway, when I saw this recipe, I knew that I had to make it. Not only was it going to further me along in what we have come to call the “spice challenge” in my apartment; it also just looked amazing. Even better, in spite of the almost dauntingly long list of ingredients, the only items I didn’t have on hand were ground beef, cilantro, and spinach. (This is where I put in my plug for building up your own spice rack–even complicated-looking recipes become super easy when you realize you already have a lot of what you need on hand.) I have to admit, I omitted the saffron because I didn’t have any, and paying a lot for a pinch of a spice for a Tuesday night dinner is not something that appeals to me.

So, what is a tagine, you ask? It’s basically a stew in which vegetables or meats have been braised. It may look fancy, but if you can make spaghetti and meatballs, there’s really no way that you can mess up this recipe. One note: Real tagines are cooked in a heavy clay pot. I do not have one of these. I used my dutch oven, but if you don’t have one, you can use basically any pot that you can cover and that is also oven-safe.

Moroccan Beef Meatball Tagine (adapted from Bon Appetit, January 2010)

Do not let the length of this list freak you out:

Meatballs:

• 1 1/2 pounds ground beef
• 1/3 cup finely grated onion
• 1/3 cup panko (coarse Japanese breadcrumbs)
• 1/4 cup chopped cilantro
• 1 large egg, beaten
• 2 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
• 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger

I actually made the meatballs several hours ahead of time, because my friend Iris was coming over for dinner and she was working late that night.

To prep, line a baking sheet with plastic wrap. Then mix all of the above ingredients in a bowl. Using about 2 tablespoons of the mixture at a time, roll out some meatballs. Put them on the prepped baking sheet.  No, seriously, that’s it.

Several hours later, I made the stew:

• 1 tablespoon or so olive oil
• 3 1/2 cups chopped onion
• 4 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
• 2 cinnamon sticks
• 1 teaspoon turmeric
• 2 cups beef broth
• 1 14 or 15-oz can of diced tomatoes in juice
• 1/4 cup golden raisins (or more! They are so yummy.)
• 2 cups carrots, sliced to 1/2 inch thickness on a slight diagonal
• 1/4 cup or more of fresh cilantro
• a 5-oz bag of baby spinach

Preheat the oven to 350. Heat the oil in your ovenproof pot over medium heat. Dump in the onions and saute them for about 15 minutes until they are golden and translucent. Throw in the garlic, cinnamon sticks, and turmeric (and a pinch of saffron if you decide to use it, fancypants). Stir them around for a couple of minutes and then throw in your canned tomatoes and juice.

Bring your stew up to a bubble and then turn the heat down to a simmer. Stir in the carrots, and then ever so gently add the meatballs (so as not to crumble them up) and submerge them in the liquid so they’re covered on top.

Sprinkle the cilantro on top, and then cover the pot and put it in the oven and let it do its thing for about 35 minutes. The meatballs should be cooked through by then. Then scatter the spinach on top of the stew, cover the pot again, and put it back in the oven for about 5 minutes to let the spinach wilt. When it’s all done, carefully stir the spinach into the stew to combine, adjust salt and pepper according to your taste, and you’re good to go. Per the recipe’s suggestion, I served this on top of couscous that I garnished with lemon juice and cilantro.

So that’s all for now–I’m almost back in New York! Hurray. I hope you’ve enjoyed my first post from the road. WiFi on mass transit is great, but I do have to say that spending a Friday night on a bus trip is kind of for the birds.

Some people are football fans. Some are not. Some like this team. Some like that one. Sports have the power to create bitter enemies. They can also bring people together–especially when food is involved. Yesterday a gaggle of my nearest and dearest gathered together to watch the Saints take on the Colts, but none of us were really that emotionally invested in the outcome (though we were all rooting for New Orleans, it was undeniable that it was a room primarily of Jets fans).

What really spurred everyone’s enthusiasm was the food that we ate. Our host provided killer chili and guacamole; others contributed the best soy-garlic fried chicken in the world, my favorite doughnuts in New York, and some other luscious pastries.  It was almost overkill that I brought this apple crisp–but luckily, my friends dug right in.

Apple crisp is without a doubt one of my favorite foods–my mom makes it nearly every time I come home because she knows I will devour half of it as soon as I see it.  Not too long ago, when I saw that Ina Garten had a recipe for an apple crisp that threw pears into the mix, too, I was sold. I used half the pears she suggests and threw in some cranberries to balance out the tartness. I was really pleased with the results.

Here’s what you need:

• 2 bosc pears (Ina uses 4)
• 6 Macintosh apples (FYI–Ina says use Macouns but they aren’t in season right now)
• 1 teaspoon orange zest
• 1 teaspoon lemon zest
• 2 tablespoons orange juice
• Juice of 1 lemon
• 1/2 cup granulated sugar
• 1/4 cup flour
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
• A good shake or two out of a bag of dried cranberries (maybe 1/2 cup or more)

And for the topping:

• 1 1/2 cups flour
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• 3/4 cup brown sugar, packed
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup old-fashioned oatmeal
• 2 sticks of butter (1/2 pound), diced

Preheat your oven to 350. Peel and core the apples and pears and roughly chop them (I used a melon baller to core them, but you can also use a teaspoon or a small knife). Toss them in a bowl with the zests, spices, juices, flour, sugar, and cranberries and pour them into a baking dish.

In the meantime, blend together all of the ingredients for the topping. I used the paddle attachment on my, ahem, sweet new stand mixer, but you can use your fingers or a fork or a pastry blender (just make sure that you don’t over-handle the mixture with your hands–you don’t want the butter to melt). When it’s nice and crumbly rather than sandy-looking, it’s ready to go.

Spread that gorgeous topping over your fruit and bake it for 55 minutes to an hour–the top should be nicely browned and the fruit should be bubbling underneath. Let it cool a bit and serve it warm (with some ice cream, please).

I was in kind of a hurry to get to the party by kickoff, so I rode the (very crowded) downtown 4 train with this (very warm) treat in the bottom of a canvas shoulder bag that I held on my (very, very warm) lap, the smell of orange peel and cinnamon resonating around me. Let’s just say a few people looked confused, but nobody looked unhappy.

This is a story of boy meets girl.

Okay, maybe not, but that sounds better than “this is a story of chicken meets garlic.”  Or does it?

Chicken with 40 cloves of garlic is a well-loved recipe by many–there are zillions of recipes out there. Still, in spite of this fanfare, some people might feel inclined to shy away.  40 cloves–which is about two heads of garlic–sounds like a lot of, well, pungency.  This became especially apparent when I was talking to my dad the other day while separating out the garlic for this recipe.  When he heard the answer to his question of “what’s for dinner tonight?” he immediately responded with, “yeeeeesh.”

See, I grew up in a family that tended to shy away from garlic and other strong-flavored foods.  I don’t know if this is a generally Lithuanian phenomenon, or if it is merely particular to my own family.  Lithuanians are pretty much by definition meat-and-potatoes kind of people; bold flavors don’t really permeate the cuisine (unless you find bacon fat to be bold. It can be!). Rather, those who partake of it are prodded to savor the delicate sweetness of a boiled potato, maybe seasoned with some salt or some dill.  In fact, while I cook with garlic pretty often now and ate many dishes containing garlic as a kid (mostly in restaurants or in friend’s homes) I actually didn’t even really know what a clove of garlic looked like until I started cooking for myself. You can laugh if you want. So anyway, given this context, it’s no surprise that I could pretty much hear the raised eyebrow coming from the other side of the phone conversation as I got this dish ready.

Still, chicken with 40 cloves of garlic is a dish that I’ve always wanted to try. My latest impulse buy gave me an excuse to try it out:

Okay, I’m not a huge advocate for having too many gadgets in the kitchen. You just don’t need a lot of fancy equipment to cook good food. But I did feel the need to have something that could go from stovetop to oven and back again, and until last week, I didn’t. After coming back from the Beyond section of Bed Bath and Beyond, $99 in the hole, I felt the need to make the cost-to-use ratio of this (beautiful, sleek, red) dutch oven worthwhile. Right now I’m at $33 per use…

Anyways, after thinking about what I could make for this baby’s inaugural use, I realized that I had everything that I needed to make chicken with 40 cloves of garlic, except the chicken. Like I said, there are tons of recipes out there, but I took the lead from Mark Bittman’s recipe for Chicken and Garlic Stew in How to Cook Everything. If you don’t have it yet, it’s a great book. I love his tone. He always makes me want to say that some flavor combination is “a revelation” or “really special.”

Here’s what you need:

• 1 whole chicken, rinsed, patted dry, and cut up.
• A couple of swirls around the pot of extra virgin olive oil
• 2 heads of garlic, separated into cloves but not peeled
• A handful or two of minced fresh parsley
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1/2 cup white wine

What makes this recipe awesome is that there are minimal ingredients and, after the prep work, there’s really nothing you have to do to make it turn out beautifully.

The first order of business is cutting up the chicken. I won’t go into detail here; I just wanted to post this glamor shot. When you’re done you should have two wings, two breasts, two thighs, and two drumsticks all ready to go. Save that carcass for making stock later! (My sister’s fiance joked that our freezer looks like a morgue. Luckily I made a huge pot of stock today so it’s a little less eerie up in there.)

So, M. Bittman says to throw everything in the pot and let it go at that. I like my chicken skin to be a little browned, though, so if you feel the same way, then heat the olive oil first and briefly brown the chicken pieces, finally turning them over to be skin side-up. Then add the garlic, parsley, salt, pepper, and allspice. (You don’t have to peel the garlic first–you can do that while you eat. It’s kind of fun!)  Then pour in the wine, turn the heat to medium-high, and let the contents come to a boil. Then put the cover on your pot and reduce the heat to low.  Then cook it for an hour. Then eat it. That’s it. I’m serious. All you have to do after dumping everything in the pot is to go call your mom or fold your laundry or have a mini dance party in your living room.

And how did it all turn out, you might ask? Well, I said at the beginning that this was a love story.  The garlic becomes so sweet and so soft and luscious–not at all sharp or pungent–and the chicken is incredibly tender and juicy. You can squeeze the garlic out of its skin onto slices of crusty bread (or use said bread to sop up everything that’s left in the pot). It’s out of control.  This was a definite no-leftovers meal. Yum!

The past few days before this, however, were not quite as productive–mainly because I’ve been sick and have been living in a nyquil-induced haze. In fact, in the last forty-eight hours, my major achievements have included doing my laundry, listening to every Wilco album in succession (including the two Billy Bragg collaborations) and making three trips to Whole Foods.  Luckily, when you combine feeling sick + cold weather + overabundant groceries, you can sometimes emerge with something really tasty to make the pain go away, like this split pea soup.

About a month ago, I bought a couple of bags of dried split peas on a whim, but December was really busy at work and I found myself eating a lot of pasta and takeout. Then Christmas came, and my parents were really generous with the cookbook gifts, one of which was the Veselka cookbook. Now, I totally thought I would have made some serious pierogies by now, but instead I gravitated towards the soup recipes–I had everything I needed to make their split pea soup, and then some. Using the Veselka recipe as a base, I made a few modifications to the recipe to punch up the flavor and added some homemade garlic croutons. Here’s what I came up with:

Split Pea Soup:

• 2 tablespoons butter (unsalted!)
• 2 carrots, finely grated
• 3 stalks celery, minced
• 2 cloves of garlic, minced or pressed
• 1 small yellow onion, minced
• 3 cups dried split peas, rinsed and picked over
• 6 cups vegetable stock
• 2-ish cups water
• Salt and pepper to taste

Garlic croutons:

• Some leftover stale bread (I used the end of a baguette that my friend Margaret brought by two days before)
• 1 clove of garlic, smashed and peeled

First, rinse and pick over the split peas. I wasn’t really sure what to look for, but basically I took out the peas that were off-color and any stray husks (gross). The thing to watch out for is that when you set them aside they will inevitably bind themselves together into what looks like the fake food you play with as a kid. It will look like a big, congealed mess of fake peas. Oh well.

Next, get your vegetables going. In a big stock pot, melt the two tablespoons of butter and add the carrots, celery, and onion. Saute for about five minutes and then add the garlic (so it doesn’t burn and get bitter) and saute for another few minutes until the vegetables are soft.

Then add the stock, split peas, and additional water. Bring the soup up to a boil, and then turn the heat down to low and simmer  until the peas are to your desired texture. For me this took about an hour and 15 minutes.  One thing to keep in mind is that the peas will sink to the bottom and potentially burn on the bottom of the pot, so make sure you stir the soup from time to time, making sure to scrape the bottom of the pot as you go. Season with salt and pepper (I went pretty generously on the pepper) and voila.

For the croutons: Preheat your oven to 300. I was using a baguette that was pretty thin to begin with, so I just cut it into rounds. If you’re using a bigger piece of bread, you might want to cut it into cubes. Rub the bread all over with your smashed clove of garlic. Then spread the bread pieces out on a baking sheet and let it bake for between 20-30 minutes, or until dry and light brown. Check after the first ten minutes and turn over the pieces with a spatula so they can cook evenly.

Then garnish your soup with the croutons!

Honestly, I think the croutons made the soup–as did the added fat provided by the dollop of sour cream I put on top! It was really tasty and comforting, perfect for a cold January day.

Happy post-holidays from Picasso Bear (who, in retrospect looks a little more like sassy coy bear…)! Needless to say, the holidays are long gone, but I thought I’d post some highlights from the past few weeks. I was back in Connecticut hanging with the fam for a couple of weeks, which was a total delight. Check out some of our photos, after the jump:

Christmas cookies are a big deal in my family. This year we “scaled back,” meaning that we decorated five dozen gingerbread bears instead of the usual twelve-or-so dozen sugar cookie bells, trees, and stars. My mom and I got a little slap happy this year as we brainstormed designs, which meant that family and friends receiving cookie platters from us got a lot of chocolate dipped fruit and hershey’s kisses, while our bears are still hanging out in tupperware in the garage. The highlights:

My dad made this one. It was his first time using decorative icing. I think he shows excellent precision of line and creative forethought.

My mom contributed Brian Boitano Bear, among many other dazzling achievements in the culinary decorative arts.

Here’s my contribution–Colonel Sanders Bear! Not to toot my own horn, but I think he’s the spitting image of the original.

There were some other dear friends of ours making Christmas cookies this year that I wanted to feature, but unfortunately the photos aren’t uploading. But I had the pleasure to spend my Christmas Day with Ethan and Derek, ages 11 and 8, who were the winners of the 2009 Second Annual Ugly Christmas Cookie Contest. Way to go, you two!

In other news, check out the newest addition to Jojo’s Kitchen, which was under the tree for me this year:

Her name is Roxie, and she is the result of Jason blatantly ignoring the “let’s spend $50 to $80 on presents” rule.  Isn’t she lovely?!?

That’s all for this year’s holiday roundup; more posts soon!