I don’t eat (much) veal. That hauntingly tender texture has a way of reminding me that what I’m eating was a baby animal—one who wasn’t allowed to move much throughout it’s too-short life so that I could have a tender dinner. But, like all guilty pleasures, I make exceptions. I love to have veal once or twice in the spring, when the meat is at it’s best and veal is in season (yes, veal has a season.)

Veal doesn’t have much taste because low movement in an animal’s life makes for tender flesh with little flavor, while older animals produce tougher, more flavorful meat—another reason I feel bad for eating veal, like come, on, all that just so the flesh is firm but soft, smooth, and yields to the bite, creamy not chewy. Well, actually, yes all that. What’s life without guilty pleasures?

To compensate for the loss in taste, you must make bold accompaniments for the veal. For last weekend’s veal, Jim and I made a relish of grape tomatoes, shallots, balsamic vinegar, and capers—very bold indeed. The veal and the relish sat atop a bed of arugula—what I consider the perfect veal green, as it’s bitterness pairs sublimely with the creamy veal—and alongside some soft polenta.

Truth be told, I didn’t even need the polenta. The veal, relish, and arugula was a meal in itself, though the polenta made good work of soaking up the flavors. The relish, as it should be, is very bold, and I wouldn’t really enjoy it with anything other than veal, or possibly, a filet mignon. Make sure you get a great balsamic vinegar, because I imagine that could make or break everything.

I don’t think I’ll be eating veal too often now, but it was delicious.

Veal Chops with Roasted Shallot-Relish, Arugula, and Soft Polenta

from Bon Apetite, Feb 05//serves 4

1 cup olive oil, divided
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice
1/4 cup fresh thyme leaves
1 tablespoon coarse kosher salt
1 tablespoon ground black pepper
4 1 3/4-inch-thick veal rib chops (each about 12 ounces), frenched

18 small shallots, peeled, halved
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1 12-ounce package grape tomatoes
1/3 cup drained capers plus 1 tablespoon caper brine reserved from jar

Soft Polenta
4 cups arugula
Whisk 3/4 cup oil and lemon juice in small bowl to blend. Mix thyme, salt, and pepper in another small bowl. Rub thyme mixture all over veal chops; place in glass baking dish. Pour oil-lemon marinade over; let stand 15 minutes.

Preheat oven to 450°F. Combine shallots, vinegar, and remaining 1/4 cup oil in medium roasting pan; toss to coat. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Roast until shallots are browned and tender, about 15 minutes. Add tomatoes to shallots and roast until tomatoes are soft and browned, stirring occasionally, about 15 minutes longer. Remove pan from oven. Add capers and 1 tablespoon reserved brine and stir to blend.

Meanwhile, heat large ovenproof skillet over high heat. Drain veal chops and transfer marinade to heavy small saucepan. Add veal to skillet and cook until browned, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer skillet to oven and roast veal to desired doneness, about 10 minutes for medium.

Bring reserved oil-lemon marinade to boil; boil 2 minutes. Place 1 veal chop on each of 4 plates. Divide shallot-tomato mixture among plates. Spoon Soft Polenta alongside. Drizzle with oil-lemon marinade. Garnish with arugula and serve.

Soft Polenta

6 cups water
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) butter
1 teaspoon salt
1 1/4 cups quick-cooking polenta (precooked maize meal)
Bring 6 cups water, 1/4 cup butter, and 1 teaspoon salt to boil in heavy large saucepan. Gradually whisk in polenta. Reduce heat to medium-low. Stir constantly until polenta thickens, about 5 minutes.

Did you hear? The original Iron Chef is coming back to TV! It premieres tonight on the Fine Living Network at 11. I can’t wait to hear the dubbed-in voices of the Japanese women judges, who always look like they’re saying something more intelligent than what we hear in English—the English laden with high-pitched Americanized giggling. This girlish giggling is louder than I’ve ever heard a Japanese woman laugh. Why can’t we just hear the real giggling? Maybe it’s not American enough, too subdued or something. Or maybe it’s just that giggling is even hotter when dubbed.

I doubt it. But boy, do I love Iron Chef.

This is the first weekend—in what feels like many weekends—that I have nothing to do. No one to visit. No doctor’s appointments to keep. No festivals to attend. No dinner parties. Nothing.

I don’t even have a book I’m close to finishing that, hence, would take up all my time. No crazy, laborious recipe scheduled into my weekend. No real reason to even make a blog post. But hey, lets not go crazy. I’m not going to forget about my ol’ Cav and Cod just ’cause I got a case of the lazies.

So here’s a recipe for your lazy weekend—and if you live in the Northeast, with all this glum and gloom weather today, you know what I’m talking about. Go ahead, get into your pajamas. Sit on the couch with a cup of tea. Do nothing today. I promise it will feel great.

And then, when you do feel like getting off the couch for a few minutes, throw together this salad. It’s quick, it’s colorful, it’s amazing. The mangos are a perfect component to erase any ill-feelings you have about tomatoes right now (because oh, my, god, when is it ever going to be tomato season again, it should be now!) and they work so harmoniously with watercress’s stringent quality. And, even if you think that the dressing seems just a bit too intense to work (1 tablespoon fish sauce!) or that there’s too many herbs, follow the directions exactly and trust me—it works.

Mango and Watercress Salad

serves 2-4//adapted from Gourmet

For Dressing:
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 1/2 tablespoons Asian sesame oil
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
1 tablespoon Asian fish sauce
1-2 tablespoons sugar
2 dashes hot sauce such as Tabasco
Freshly ground white pepper to taste

For Salad:
3/4 lb watercress, coarse stems discarded (about 6 cups loosely packed)
1 3/4 cups thinly sliced Napa cabbage (from 1 head) *
1 (1- to 1 1/2-lb) firm-ripe mango, peeled, pitted, and cut into 1/2-inch dice
1/2 cup coarsely grated carrot
1/4 cup torn fresh cilantro leaves
1/4 cup torn fresh basil leaves
1/4 cup torn fresh mint leaves

Whisk together all dressing ingredients in a small bowl, then whisk in salt to taste.

Gently toss all salad ingredients together in a bowl. Add just enough dressing to coat, then serve immediately.

* The easiest way to do this is with a mandoline. Set it to the thinnest slice and the cabbage slices will be the perfect thinness.

Tacos are fun. They’re eat-while-standing-up food. They’re perfect-with-alcohol food…they’re party food.

I’ve always loved tacos—tacos (or spareribs) were my favorite dinner as a child, and they remain so to this day. I don’t, however, make tacos often. I’m not sure why, since they are easy as pie (much easier actually). I think it may be some deep-seated masochistic self-hatred—or maybe I just like to keep my favorite things special. Whatever the reason, it needs to stop.

Tacos should be eaten regularly. There’s so many different approaches to a taco that you could eat tacos everyday for months without getting bored (though you may put on a few pounds!). You have your pork, beef, or chicken tacos, your fish tacos, bean tacos—I’ve even heard of chocolate tacos. The possibilities of different cheeses, sauces, vegetables, and even fruit that can go into your tacos is endless. Then you can pick from soft tacos, or puffy tacos, or hard, crackly ones. There’s no reason that one shouldn’t have tons of tacos. The more tacos, the better, and the more people that you share them with, the merrier. Tacos are perfect party food—everyone loves them, and they leave the hostess free to party it up with her friends. There’s something wonderfully fun and inviting about setting out a bunch of bowls and accouterments for your guests and letting them put their plates together. It makes dinner a bit of a game.

But, I feel like I’ve become a bit of a Taco PR-girl, so I’ll end this post shortly—after recommending, of course, these tacos. They may be a bit more difficult than pie—since you make the salsa verde and the cabbage slaw from scratch—but they are absolutely worth the effort, making themselves my favorite tacos ever (and that’s an accomplishment!).

The salsa verde is bright, tangy and able to cut right through the creamy lime mayonnaise slaw. The onions, which I used to marinate the (very fresh) tuna and then used to top the grilled tuna tacos, are softened through the marinating—they retain a bit of onion-bite but aren’t offensive. If you’re unsure about eating onions that touched raw fish, reserve some of them for serving before you add to the raw tuna.

I suggest you taste the salsa verde before adding the sugar and the chicken broth—I found I didn’t need much sugar (I used 1/4 tsp) because my tomatillos were sweet, and I didn’t use as much chicken broth as the recipe called for (I used 1/2 cup) because I didn’t want to dilute the bold, punchy flavor.

Finally, I urge you to fry your tortillas. It’s a celebration, right? Screw your diet!

Grilled Fish Tacos

serves 4//from Bon Appetit May 08

• 2 cups chopped white onion, divided
• 3/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro, divided
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• 5 tablespoons fresh lime juice, divided
• 3 tablespoons fresh orange juice
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano (preferably Mexican)
• 1 pound tilapia, striped bass, or sturgeon fillets*
• Coarse kosher salt
• 1 cup mayonnaise
• 1 tablespoon milk
• Corn tortillas
• 2 avocados, peeled, pitted, sliced
• 1/2 small head of cabbage, cored, thinly slice
• Salsa Verde
• Lime wedges

Stir 1 cup onion, 1/4 cup cilantro, oil, 3 tablespoons lime juice, orange juice, garlic, and oregano in medium bowl**. Sprinkle fish with coarse salt and pepper. Spread half of onion mixture over bottom of 11×7x2-inch glass baking dish. Arrange fish atop onion mixture. Spoon remaining onion mixture over fish. Cover and chill 30 minutes. Turn fish; cover and chill 30 minutes longer. Whisk mayonnaise, milk, and remaining 2 tablespoons lime juice in small bowl.***

Brush grill grate with oil; prepare barbecue (medium-high heat). Grill fish with some marinade still clinging until just opaque in center, 3 to 5 minutes per side. Grill tortillas until slightly charred, about 10 seconds per side.

Coarsely chop fish; place on platter. Serve with lime mayonnaise, tortillas, remaining 1 cup chopped onion, remaining 1/2 cup cilantro, avocados, cabbage, Salsa Verde, and lime wedges.

*I used tuna steaks.

**I used all the onions, then marinated the fish and used the marinade for a topping afterwards. Come on, you eat sushi, right?

***Instead of serving the cabbage and lime mayonnaise separately, I combined them and served as a slaw.

Salsa Verde

3 unpeeled garlic cloves
1 pound fresh tomatillos, husked, rinsed
1 small onion, quartered through root end
3 to 6 serrano chiles or 2 to 4 jalapeño chiles
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 teaspoon (or more) sugar*
Coarse kosher salt
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 cup low-salt chicken broth**
2 tablespoons (or more) fresh lime juice
Prepare barbecue (medium-high heat).*** Thread garlic onto skewer. Grill garlic, tomatillos, onion quarters, and chiles until dark brown spots form on all sides, about 9 minutes for onion, 6 minutes for tomatillos and chiles, and 4 minutes for garlic. Cool. Peel garlic. Trim core from onion. Scrape some of burnt skin off chiles; stem. Seed chiles for milder salsa, if desired. Coarsely chop onion, chiles, and garlic. Transfer tomatillos and all vegetables to blender. Add cilantro and 1/2 teaspoon sugar; puree until smooth. Season to taste with coarse salt.

Heat oil in heavy large saucepan over high heat. Carefully add tomatillo mixture (juices may splatter). Stir until slightly thickened, stirring often, about 2 minutes. Add broth and 2 tablespoons lime juice. Bring to boil; reduce heat to medium and simmer until mixture measures 2 1/2 cups, about 10 minutes. Season to taste with salt and more sugar and lime juice, if desired. DO AHEAD: Can be made 1 day ahead. Cool slightly, then cover and chill.

*I used 1/4 tsp.

**I used 1/2 cup.

***I made everything (successfully I should think) on a cast-iron grill pan.

I’m usually a good Daring Baker. I may wait until the very last minute to do a challenge but I’ll get it done and, more importantly, get it done right—which means no cheating on the recipe rules.

But not this time. See, this go-round I got lazy and by Saturday night when we got back from food shopping and I realized I forgot to get lollipop sticks, I threw caution to the wind and decided to make “Cheesecake Balls” not “Cheesecake Pops.”

Maybe I should have planned better. Maybe I should’ve went to the craft store earlier in the day and bought the sticks. But life, as it tends to do, got in the way.

Our Saturday was spent at Shadfest, the annual festival in Lambertville, NJ honoring the shad that swims through the Delaware come springtime. Jim, Champ, and I lazily traipsed around the festival—not thinking about Daring Bakers for one moment—eating shad wraps and taking photos. By the time we got home, tired and happy, I almost threw the whole notion of cheesecake anythings in the trash.

But then I got a second wind and decided to make the balls. The cheesecake was surprisingly easy. I divided the recipe into fifths, because one can only take so much cheesecake. Everything was whipped up in cute little bowls since the ingredients were so fractioned off (.04 cup of flour can’t really mess up your kitchen). However, once the cheesecake came out of the oven, I was already tired, and didn’t want to bake anymore (but, of course, wanted dessert for the night). I rolled the balls up too soon—they were bumpy and quite ugly—and then froze them solid while I continued to finish dinner and get a bit zonked on some good wine. A little bit later, I tipsily dipped the balls in chocolate, threw on some sprinkles, and devoured some immediately, watching an episode of Entourage. I didn’t, silly me, even take a picture.

Luckily, there were some left over (still on the plate, which I threw in the fridge before bed, you know, for food safety) and I took some snaps this morning, trying not to get chocolate on my new MacBook.

The recipe for the real cheesecake pops is here and here, at the lovely sites of this month’s Daring hosts, Deborah from Taste and Tell, and Elle from Feeding My Enthusiasms. And of course, you can find all the links to the other (better) Daring Bakers here.

No one should be bored by what they eat. If the contents of your kitchen aren’t proof of that, then the internet is—we live in an age of information, where on the web you can find a recipe for practically anything and where the intricacies of food cultures are available to everyone, in books, on TV, and of course through bloggers. We all know now what tapas are, how to crack a coconut, and that sushi isn’t just a California roll. We ain’t in the 50’s anymore, and there’s no excuse to be bored by dinner.

It’s good to set goals. Try and eat something new once a week, or have something that you’d never before imagined cooking—or eating—once a month. Learn about all those weird seasonal vegetables that spring up now and then and figure out what to do with them. Or, you could take a dish you’ve had before and cook it in the tradition of another culture.

I’ve had okra before, but mainly in Creole gumbos (a delicious one of which I had this past weekend, made by Jim’s wonderful aunt Maria) or Cajun stews. Okra acts as a thickening agent in these dishes because of that sticky, gunky, oozing stuff inside of it (I looked for the technical term in the Oxford Food Dictionary, but they just called it a “sticky substance”) but since okra is one of my favorite components of these dishes, I wondered if it would be good on it’s own. Searching through my recipe books and on the internet, I learned that okra is a traditional Indian side dish—stir-fried in a wok with onions, chilies, and Indian spices. Since Jim and I make red-lentil dal at least once a week (using the leftovers as lunches), this technique sounded perfect.

The resulting okra was indeed sticky (or gummy or slimy–we couldn’t agree on a adjective), but coupled with the caramelized onions and chilies, and the earthy tones of the coriander and cumin, it was beautiful—complex and tasty. Not totally sold on the stickiness, we mixed the okra into our dal and were impressed by the depth that it contributed. I’m sure it would go wonderfully with black beans, though I urge you to make the okra separately, using this simple recipe, and then to mix it into your beans, or dal, or whatever at the table, because the caramelization of the dish is not to be missed. Maybe it will even transport you to new worlds!

(Though if it doesn’t, you could at least click on this video link for a laugh!)

Stir-Fried Okra

serves 3-4//adapted from Curried Flavors, Maya Kaimal MacMillian3 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 cup chopped onion
1 green chili (serrano, Thai, jalapeno), split lengthwise and chopped (leave in seeds if you want added heat)

1 pound fresh okra, trimmed and cut into 1/8-inch slices

Spice mixture:
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/8 teaspoon red pepper (cayenne or dried red pepper flakes)

1 teaspoon salt

Over medium-high heat, fry oil with onion and chili until soft.

Turn up heat to high. Add okra and fry, stirring, for two minutes. Add spice mixture and continue stir-frying until okra browns around the edges (15-20 minutes.) When browned, add salt.