Baby On Board

OK, before you jump to conclusions, let me just say right out of the gate that there is no baby on board this body. But there's clearly something in the water as I have 3 friends welcoming babies within a 2 week window this month, with 3 more due in June.

My dear friend Ronda was first up, delivering her second child, Thatcher, last Monday. The only hitch was that Ronda and her husband were convinced they were having a girl, even though they wanted the sex of the baby to be a surprise. Well, I think it's safe to say they definitely were surprised. And it's also clear they don't know how to read ultrasounds after all. They're completely over the moon with their handsome new bundle of joy, although it did take a few days for their toddler daughter to understand she actually had a baby brother when all she's been hearing about for 9 months is her sister on the way.

I finally got to meet Thatcher on Sunday. He is one of the cutest babies I've seen — even in the chic pink floral number he was sporting.

Yes, the poor guy had no manly clothes to call his own since they thought he was going to be a she. In addition to the boy-themed clothes I brought over [Thatcher, you owe me one!], I delivered a ridiculously rich quiche filled with caramelized onions and roasted cauliflower.

It's a recipe I found here and have been looking for a reason to bake it. It's hard to justify making and eating a double-cream, triple-cheese quiche by yourself. I once made a caramelized onion and brie pizza which I am pretty sure put me on the short list for a stent, but after one bite I could care less if I had to have open-heart surgery. It was just oozing decadence. I imagine it was a little bit like crack because after your first bite you knew there was no chance of stopping regardless of the repercussions. I had a feeling this quiche would be just like that — fork-dropping good. The Dijon-kissed crust; the melt-in-your-mouth sweet onions; the rich, nutty cauliflower . . . . I mean come on! One is powerless to resist it, unless you're Kate Moss who recently said, "Nothing tastes as good as being skinny." Clearly she hasn't tried this.

The real tragegy was I hadn't tried it either! I was dying to, but, try as I might, I couldn't find a way to steal a piece — or even a bite — undetected. Ronda was nice enough to take a picture of a slice for my blog though.

I'm already looking for an excuse to make this again. But next time, I'm having a slice. So I'm apologizing to Marina in advance, who welcomed her beautiful baby Leila yesterday, for soon delivering this quiche with a missing slice.

Cauliflower and Caramelized Onion Quiche

By Smitten Kitchen

Ingredients

1 head of cauliflower (about 1 pound), cut into 1-inch flowerets

3 1/2 Tsbp olive oil

1 Tbsp truffle oil

1 frozen 9-inch pie crust (or go with a homemade one if you have the desire)

1 large onion, halved lengthwise and thinly sliced

1 Tbsp Dijon mustard

2 large eggs

1 8-ounce container of mascarpone cheese

1/2 cup whipping cream

1/4 tsp pepper (black or white)

Pinch of freshly ground nutmeg

1 cup grated Gruyere cheese (Swiss or Comte are great swaps)

1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese

Directions

Position rack in the center of the oven and preheat over to 425 degrees. Toss cauliflower with 2 Tbsp olive oil in a bowl. Spread on rimmed baking sheet, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and roast 15 minutes before turning flowerets and roasting another 10-15 minutes. Cool enough to handle and thinly slice.

Reduce over temperature to 350 degrees. If using a store bought frozen pie crust, line crust with foil, fill with pie weights or uncooked beans, and bake 20 minutes. Remove foil and weights and then bake until crust is golden, about 5 addition minutes. Press crust back with the bak of a fork if bubbles form. Cool crust slightly and maintain oven temperature. [Note: If using homemade pie crust, you don't have to par-bake it.]

Meanwhile, heat remaining 1 1/2 Tbsp of olive oil in a heavy large skillet over medium-low heat. Add onions, sprinkle with salt and pepper and cook until onion is a deep, golden brown, stirring occasionally, approximately 30 minutes.

Use a knife or brush and spread the bottom and sides of crust with mustard. Spread onion over crust and then arrange the cauliflower over the onion. Set the quiche on a rimmed baking sheet (to protect against leaks). Whisk eggs, mascarpone, cream, pepper and nutmeg in a medium bowl. Stir in Gruyere. Pour mixture over the filling in the pie shell and sprinkle with Parmesan. Bake until golden and center is set, about 40 minutes. Transfer to rack and cool 15 minutes before serving. Yields: 8 servings.

Note: The onions can be caramelized, dough can be par-baked, and cauliflower roasted a day in advance. Cauliflower and onion should be kept in separate containers and refrigerated. The par-baked crust can be stored at room-temperature. The whole quiche can be made and baked a day in advance, reheated in a low oven setting before serving.

Oscar-Worthy Performance

I love movies. I love glamorous fashion. I love to get together with friends and trade pithy comments about celebrities wearing glamorous fashion. I guess that's why I love watching the Oscars so much. It's my favorite award show; one I look forward to each year. And I must say, I love that the Red Carpet broadcast begins at 3 pm in California! It's a wonderful excuse to invite some friends over to lounge around for hours on the pseudo-balcony of a sofa feeling like the Muppet judges, Statler and Walford. But of course sustenance is needed for such work and entertainment. That's why I'm lucky to have a friend like Karen who loves to cook and likes party themes as much as I do.

Since there were 10 movies nominated for Best Picture this year, we thought we'd each pick three of the 10 movies and cook a representative dish. This year's Oscar picks made for quite an array of dining options. Because I fantasize of being a Top Chef contestant, I thought we should create a bit of a contest out of it. So instead of selecting the movies, they were drawn out of a hat. Although I was prepared to embrace Avatar (blue food anyone?), I was grateful I escaped it. Instead I got A Serious Man, District 9, and The Hurt Locker. Hmmm, Jewish aliens in the Middle East? What a combo! My brother who's served in both Iraq and Afghanistan proved to be no help because he said all they ever ate were MREs (Meals, Ready To Eat). That was definitely not an option for party food. Even though I was wanking a bit about having such random movies, it turned out to be a lot of fun. The final menu was delicious and rather show-stopping. Definitely Oscar-worthy.

A Serious Man (old school Jewish cuisine): Apricot, raisin and walnut rugelach, pre-baked in this photo

District 9 (prawns in honor of everyone's favorite "prawn" aliens): Pancetta-wrapped shrimp with sage

The Hurt Locker (a rift on Middle Eastern köfte kebab): Lamb sliders on pita with a parsley-mint salad

The Blind Side (Southern tailgate staples): Potato salad with bacon and arugula, which I'm fanatical about now!

An Education (elegant French a la Julia Childs): Classic cheese souffle

Up (kid-friendly food): Edamame succotash

Cooking Like a Man

Men possess an aversion to reading instructions. I'm not just pulling this statement out of thin air. I think it's a pretty well established fact. Just like women talk a lot and love to multi-task. It's the whole Mars vs. Venus thing going on. I've had many a fight with a male about stopping to ask for directions (or even using the GPS) when lost or referring to the enclosed diagram when trying to assemble the 1000 pieces of wood into a bed frame. For the most part, instructions and men are like oil and water. But every once in a while, I lose my mind in the kitchen and cook like a man.

That's right, I just launch into a recipe without reading it all the way through. I'm sautéeing and simmering and reading the recipe as I go — only to come to the horrifying realization 45 minutes into it that the dish takes 3 hours to cook! While this may not be a tragedy on a Sunday afternoon, this "oversight" seems to only occur on a Tuesday at 8:30 pm. And usually when I'm starving and under the assumption this is a recipe I can just "whip up." It's like when you have a tight flight connection. Murphy's Law: You land at Gate 8 with your connection taking off in approximately 22 minutes at Gate 79. If you've got a 2 hour layover, your next flight takes off from Gate 10. Oh the irony. . . .

Well, the last time this occurred, I thought I was going to be clever and use up some vegetables in my fridge that were on their last leg. I'd pulled a recipe for a chicken and squash curry that seemed like the perfect thing for a rainy night. I've made curries before and I thought they were pretty straight forward and pretty fast. As I found out, this was no quick-cooking curry. When I realized the "misunderstanding," I was too far gone and had to continue the recipe. But I did throw a frozen pizza in the over to eat for dinner that night. It gave me the strength I needed to finish the curry — at 11 pm.

Yes, I was mad at myself for pulling such a "man move" in the kitchen, but stopped berating myself the next day when I finally tasted the dish. It was the most satisfying and fragrant concoction I'd had in quite a while. So worth the wait! Maybe that's how men feel when they finally assemble the new bed frame — without the diagram — after 6 hours and scratches all over their arms and legs.

Chicken and Butternut Squash Curry

Adapted from Cooking Light

Although I know this would not qualify for a Rachel Ray 30-minute meal, it's so good I've made it a half dozen times in the past 2 months. It's my new favorite dish this winter. So hearty and healthy, not to mention a ridiculously delicious one-pot meal.

Ingredients

2 tsp curry powder

1 tsp ground coriander

1 tsp ground turmeric

1/2 tsp salt

1/2 tsp black pepper

1/4 tsp ground red pepper

1 bay leaf

1 1/2 tsp olive oil

1 1/2 lbs skinless, boneless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces

1 1/2 cup vertically sliced onion

1 1/2 tsp minced, peeled fresh ginger

2 garlic cloves, minced

1 14-oz can fat-free, low-sodium chicken broth

1 14-oz can diced tomatoes, undrained

2 cups cubed peeled butternut squash (or sweet potatoes)

1 cup chickpeas, rinsed and drained

1/2 pound green beans, cut into 2-in pieces

1/2 cup frozen green peas

1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice

Directions

Combine curry powder, coriander, turmeric, salt, black pepper, red pepper and bay leaf in a small bowl.

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Add chicken to pan; saute 5 minutes or until chicken is browned, stirring occasionally. Remove chicken from pan and reduce heat to medium. Add onion to pan; cook 10 minutes until tender, stirring frequently. Increase heat to medium-high and return chicken to the pan. Cook 1 minute, stirring occasionally.

Stir in ginger and garlic, cook 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add curry powder mixture; cook 2 minutes, stirring constantly. Add broth and tomatoes and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 1 hour.

Stir in squash and chickpeas. Cook uncovered for 25 minutes. Add green beans; cook 5 minutes. Add peas and cook 5 minutes or until thoroughly heated. Remove from heat; stir in lemon juice. Discard bay leaf. Serve over basmati or jasmine rice. Yield: 6 servings.

Note: Before you get scared off, this can be made quicker than you think. I've found parcooking the squash or potatoes in the microwave saves some time. Also, the ingredients are mainly cooked, so the cooking time is really about allowing the spices and flavors to meld. I know it calls for some non-everyday spices you may not have on hand, but I'd encourage you to invest in them. You'd be surprised how often you'll use them going forward. They have depth and complexity that gives dishes that special something. This recipe is also very flexible. You can use tofu instead of meat and vegetable broth instead of chicken broth if you want a vegetarian version. And it's a great way to use up your neglected veggies in your bin: zucchini, cauliflower, tomatoes, potatoes, etc.

Taking Matters Into My Own Hands

One thing I just can't seem to find in California is a proper pulled-pork sandwich. And man, a good one is so hard to beat. It's one of those foods I eat every chance I get when I'm back South. The tangy, luscious meat . . . the cool, creamy cole slaw . . . the crunchy sour pickles . . . the warm bun. . . . .Ugh, I'm completely salivating now. Cruel, cruel, cruel.

Out here, there are a few spots where I can find a "Hawaiian" pulled-pork sandwich which is often smothered in BBQ sauce and topped with pineapple and slaw tossed in poppy seed dressing, but that understandably doesn't cut it. At times, I just can't wait until my next trip home for my fix, so must take matters into my own hands.

While nothing can beat a pig slow-roasted over a pit, this crock pot version is much more manageable. It's one of the easiest and tastiest recipes I make. No matter how much meat I make there is literally not a trace leftover. People are constantly asking for this recipe so I figured it's high time to share it with you.

In the South there's often a great debate on what constitutes proper BBQ. Those in South Carolina would assert that chopped pork with a mustard sauce is the only way to go, and my friends in Texas would vote for sliced beef brisket in a tomato-based BBQ sauce. Well, where I'm from it's absolutely pulled-pork dressed in a pepper vinaigrette. I'm not here to start a fight, but I am here to tell you that this is delicious, if not addictive, no matter how you define BBQ.

If you don't believe me, cook up a batch of this meat and then layer it on a bun with French's mustard, cole slaw (honestly, KFC has some of the best), and dill pickles. Perfection in your hands. Just make sure to have plenty of napkins around! Oh, and don't plan to have any leftover.

Southern-Style Pulled-Pork

Ingredients

5 lb pork shoulder or butt (boneless is fine)

2 cup white vinegar

1/2 cup ground pepper

1 cup water

Bottle of favorite BBQ sauce

Hamburger buns

French's mustard

Dill pickles

Coleslaw

Directions

Place the meat in a crock pot and add 1 cup vinegar, 1/4 cup pepper and enough water to fill half of the crock pot. Cook on low for 6-10 hours (or on high for about 4 hours). The meat should easily pull away from the bone or shred if there is no bone.

Pour off all liquid, transfer meat to a chopping board, and shred the pork, throwing out the pure fat sections. Return meat to the crock pot and add 1 cup BBQ sauce, 1 cup vinegar and 1/4 cup pepper. Cook on low for another 2-3 hours (or on high for an hour). As long as there is enough liquid in the pot, it's virtually impossible to overcook the meat.

To make your sandwich, spread mustard over the bun, pile on some pork, and add pickles and slaw on top. Yields: 8-12.

The Naked Chef All Grown Up

I was an early fan of Jamie Oliver, way back when he was known as the Naked Chef. Sadly, he earned this name not because he cooked sans clothing, but because he cooked very simple, "naked" food. For many of us, we spend our 20s and early 30s struggling to find our true identity and purpose. I think Jamie would agree he's been through the same process, albeit he's been very successful hosting a range of cooking shows, publishing several cookbooks under a variety of monikers, and opened some restaurants. But now, he's all grown up! He's finally found his calling. And for that, he was named the 2010 TED winner.

Obesity intervention is something I'm proud to say I've been entrenched in for the past 8 years. I've had the great fortune and honor to work with amazing companies and doctors focused on finding viable solutions for people suffering from obesity. It's a complicated disease — not to mention deadly and expensive. It's an epidemic that threatens to bankrupt our nation. And many countries around the world are in teetering on the same precipice. The thing is, though, we (that's the collective "we") are responsible for this. The good news is we can fix it.

I'm not going to pretend I don't understand the obstacles in front of us, but with efforts like Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution and the recognition this program has received, I feel like there's real hope. Yes, he's a talented chef with lots of swagger, but what he's teaching doesn't require a culinary degree . . . or a cute accent. The school kids he met in Huntington, WV (and I'm not picking on WV! I think they represent mainstream America) couldn't identify a fresh tomato. Surprisingly, they couldn't even identify a potato. I guess potatoes only come sliced and fried as far as they're concerned. It's one thing not to be able to identify states or countries on a map, but truly horrifying and tragic to me that kids don't know what food is. I mean you need it to stay alive. And yet they have no concept of what it looks like, let alone what your body needs to be healthy or how to prepare it.

Jamie's mission is simple: To create a strong, sustainable movement to educate every child about food, inspire families to cook again, and empower people everywhere to fight obesity. I'm touched at the deepest level by this. Eating is fundamental to life — and pleasure. Although the task is daunting, I think the Naked Chef is up for the battle. He's got a plan but it requires change. And change is hard. But if we feel an emotional connection to the motivation for change, our chances for success are great.

We've always been a world leader. Today, we're currently the leader in the wrong category: Percent of our population that's obese. As a nation, we now have the opportunity to become a world leader in overcoming obesity. Jamie's mission dovetails with Michelle Obama's Let's Move, an initiative to fight childhood obesity. But any journey begins with a single step. And it often begins at home.

If you want to help be a part of the solution:

1. Watch this video.

2. Sign this petition.

3. Offer your help.

4. Post your ideas on this blog so we can all benefit!

Gumbo Glory

I know we're already on to the Olympics but I'm still riding high from the Saints' Super Bowl win. My parents and my 90 year-old grandmother (famous for her biscuits) flew in from New Orleans in time to catch the second half and eat some gumbo. I wanted to cook something special for them and something representative of New Orleans to show my team spirit. I'd like to claim that my gumbo was their lucky charm but I heard from many friends and family that they too made gumbo so perhaps it was power in numbers.

Usually a pot of gumbo is cause for celebration in of itself, but as the Saints marched on to victory there was extra celebrating to do. Except for my mom, who is a staunch Colts fan. She may not have been a part of Who Dat Nation but she did manage to join the rest of us for dinner. It was gumbo after all.

Gumbo is a very personal thing. Everybody's is different and everybody's is the best. It's not rocket science to make, but I would say it's not for the faint at heart. It requires courage and willingness to take a risk if you want your gumbo dark and rich with flavor. It can take all day, which is perhaps why it tends to call up a unique vibration of festivity.

There are two secrets, though, for making good gumbo. First, you gotta love to do it. You have to enjoy spending hours in the kitchen focused on the task at hand. I'm well known to multi-task while cooking, but that business is banned from the kitchen when you've got roux on the fire. Flat out there is just no rushing or shortcuts to gumbo-making. So turn on some good music, take a deep breath and embrace the process. The second secret is the roux itself. A good roux has to be taken to the edge of darkness, requiring constant whisking for 30 minutes or more. You lose 5 lbs from standing in front of the hot stove for that long (so wear minimal clothing, even in Winter — and even though it seems idiotic to stand in front of a scalding hot substance with much of your upper body exposed) and your arm feels like it's about to fall off. If you're an adrenalin junkie, then gumbo-making may just be your thing. You get a rush from bringing the roux to the brink of disaster — the horrifying, looming chance of scorching the roux, which I can tell you right now is impossible to remedy. You just have to wipe away the tears and start over.

While the roux and the holy trinity (chopped onion, green bell pepper and celery) are the cornerstones of gumbo, there are infinite variations on gumbo. Some with seafood, some with okra, some with tomatoes, etc. Find a recipe that calls to you and go for it. Cooked with love and patience, you can't go wrong.

And then invite some friends over to celebrate!

LuLu's Gumbo

By Lucy Ann Buffet (aka LuLu)

Note: Lulu's is one of my family's favorite restaurants in L.A. That's Lower Alabama not Los Angeles! If you happen to find yourself down in Gulf Shores, do visit.

Ingredients

2 large onions, coarsely chopped

2 green bell peppers, coarsely chopped

1 medium head of celery, coarsely chopped including leaves

3/4 cup vegetable oil or bacon grease

1 cup all-purpose flour

2 1/2 lbs frozen cut okra, thawed (or fresh and cut into 1/4-inch pieces)

1 28-oz can whole tomatoes, coarsely chopped in their juice

2 lbs medium shrimp, peeled and deveined

1 lb lump crab meat

1 whole rotisserie chicken, meat picked and shredded

1 lb andouille sausage, cut into 1/8-inch rounds

8 cups chicken stock

2-3 tsp salt

1 Tbsp black pepper

1/4 tsp cayenne pepper

2 Tbsp dried thyme

4 bay leaves

1 tsp dried oregano

1 tsp dried basil

2 Tbsp creole seasoning

2-3 Tbsp pepper hot sauce (go for 3 if you like things really spicy)

2 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce

2 cups green onions, finely chopped

1/2 cup fresh parsley, finely chopped

1/2 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice

Directions

Place chopped onions, bell pepper, celery and okra in separate bowls and set aside.

To make the roux, heat vegetable oil or bacon grease in a 10-quart heavy stockpot over medium-high heat. When oil is hot, gradually add flour, whisking continuously. Continue to whisk roux, adjusting heat as necessary to keep from burning. This may take 25-30 minutes or until the roux is a dark mahogany color.

Carefully add chopped onions to the roux and continue stirring with a large wooden spoon for 2 to 3 minutes. Onions will sizzle and steam when they hit the hot roux so caution is advised.

Add bell peppers and continue stirring for another 2 to 3 minutes; add celery continuing to stir constantly for another 2 to 3 minutes. The mixture should now resemble a pot of black beans.

Add tomatoes, chicken and sausage and stir well. Then slowly add the heated stock. You can just pop this in the microwave to bring the temperature up.

Add salt, black pepper, cayenne pepper, thyme, bay leaves, oregano, basil, creole seasoning, hot sauce and Worcestershire sauce. Stir well. Bring gumbo to a boil and continue boiling for 5 minutes. Reduce heat to maintain a low simmer, uncovered, for about 1 hour.

Add okra and bring back to a boil for 5 minutes. Reduce heat again to maintain a slow simmer, uncovered, for 30 minutes or until the okra has list its bright green color and is cooked down like the other vegetables. If gumbo gets too thick, add a little water. If too thin, continue to simmer uncovered.

Add the green onions, parsley, and lemon juice. Cover and cook 15 minutes. Add the shrimp and crabmeat and mix well. Cover and turn off heat. Let sit for another 15 minutes while seafood cooks. It will stay hot for a long time. Adjust seasonings and serve over cooked white rice.

All Saints Day

Today is the Super Bowl - and my birthday. As such, I was treated to breakfast at the only "southern" restaurant in Santa Barbara. In honor of the New Orleans Saints, I ordered the apple beignets with creme anglaise. It's hard to beat fresh from the fryer beignets from Cafe du Monde but these certainly are a wonderful substitute.

I can take no credit for these lovely treats other than eating them, which I did with aplomb. It was a great way to get ready for the game. We'll be eating gumbo, of course. More on that later. . . .

Geaux Saints!