So, a handful of years ago, I worked out of my house full-time as a freelance writer and editor. When business was slow, I’d fill in behind the counter at Priscilla’s, a little catering/gourmet take-out joint owned by a friend of mine.

Priscilla’s was a ton of fun. And you know how I love food: It was like a second home in a lot of ways.

I learned how to crack an egg with one hand. I sold penny candy and baked dozens of those gigantic chocolate chip cookies. I helped make nine-million-and-one types of chicken salad. I fried egg sandwiches. It took me forever, but I learned how to slice roasted turkey breast by hand, so that it was so thin you could see through it.

Priscilla’s front had an old-timey, blue screen door with a good bang to it. We loved our regulars, even the crazy ones (especially the crazy ones). We cranked the music and danced around when the shop was empty. It was the kind of place that you loved even when the AC broke in the middle of August.

There wasn’t much I didn’t like about the time I spent there. Except the spinach.

It’s a little thing, I know. And it makes me sound just a little insane. I get that. But this spinach, it was like torture.

Whenever we were catering a big party, I always got stuck cleaning the spinach. And I don’t mean washing it. That was a breeze. I mean removing the thick, fibrous stems—from Each. Single. Leaf.

We’re talking about the monster bags of spinach, the kind that the food service companies deliver. I don’t know how much they weighed, but they were about 3 feet long by 1 foot thick.

Those bags were packed solid with spinach. Like, cubic feet of it. If you work at a restaurant, you know what I mean.

It took me hours to do the whole bag, I swear. And I’m only exaggerating a little. (Think I’m joking? Try it sometime. After about 45 minutes, you’ll be like, “I’m STILL doing this, and I’m not even through half the bag?”)

Anyways, after Priscilla’s, I vowed that I’d never clean spinach again. And I honestly don’t think I have. I always buy baby spinach at home. It costs a little more, but that doesn’t bother me a bit.

What is baby spinach?

Baby spinach is a variety of spinach with mild, tender leaves.

Raw baby spinach is really good for you. (In fact, cooking spinach can actually destroy some of its nutritional value.) It’s packed with fiber; antioxidents like beta carotene and lutein; vitamins A, B, and C; and minerals including calcium, potassium, and iron.

Simple & fresh

Spring’s just around the corner. Even if the local stuff isn’t available yet, I’m starting to crave leafy greens like a bunny.

Pretty much everyone I know makes some kind of a spinach salad. This is how I make mine.

It’s a really simple salad with a ton of flavor. It’s one of those things that I throw together often, because I almost always have the stuff on hand. It’s a classic example of how “just eating what’s in the fridge” can be delicious and downright good for you.

For this one, I used baby spinach, tomatoes, crumbled Gorgonzola, toasted walnuts, and a simple lemon and olive oil dressing. The tomatoes were pretty good (for winter tomatoes…)

It’s a great combination of flavors.

Fresh and green from the spinach. Earthy from the toasted walnuts. Tang from the blue cheese. A little bite from a squirt of fresh lemon juice, tempered by a drizzle of silky olive oil.

Other ideas for salad add-ins

• Sliced, grilled chicken or shrimp (to turn it into more of a main course or brunch-y meal)
• Crispy, crumbled bacon
• Toasted pine nuts
• Dried cranberries
• Sliced strawberries (would go great with a balsamic vinaigrette)
• Hard boiled eggs

You get the idea. Serve with a couple big hunks of crusty bread smeared with roasted garlic.

How to avoid soggy salad

Ever had a salad that was just a soggy mess (i.e. bad high school cafeteria style)?

You know the kind I mean. The greens are wet, and it’s swimming in dressing?

Most likely, the salad ingredients were rinsed, but not dried, before dressing.

Remember that adage about oil and water not mixing? It totally applies to salad. If your greens (or other salad ingredients) are still wet, any oil-based dressing isn’t going to stick to them.

So, always rinse fresh produce well to get rid of any surface grime and gunk. (This is especially important with bagged salad mixes, which have been found guilty of harboring bacteria in the past.)

Be sure to dry it just as well. Get a salad spinner. It’s a bulky, annoying thing to store in the kitchen, but it will save you tons of time and get your greens dry in a jiffy.

Most baby spinach comes in a bag and is labeleled “triple washed.” Despite this, I always wash mine just to be safe.

Simple Spinach Salad with Toasted Walnuts & Gorgonzola

Baby spinach
Fresh tomatoes, cut into wedges
Walnut halves, toasted
Gorgonzola, crumbled
Olive oil
Fresh lemon juice
Kosher salt, to taste

Prep the tomatoes

Grab your tomatoes. Rinse and dry them well.

Remove the stems and whack them in half, then into quarters.

Set them aside. Grab your spinach. Rinse and dry it well. Arrange it on a plate or platter. Drop on the tomato wedges.

Sprinkle with toasted walnuts. (To toast the walnuts, put them in a dry pan over medium heat and shake them back and forth until warm and fragrant. Let them cool before you add them to the salad, or their heat can wilt your greens.)

And Gorgonzola crumbles. Drizzle with olive oil and a little lemon juice.

Sprinkle with a little salt if you think it needs it.

Enjoy!

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Nom, nom, nom.

Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you! I was too busy attacking the artichokes!

These artichokes weren’t always so delicious. In fact, at one point, they were actually practically attacking me.

Don’t let this pile of beautiful, green artichokes fool you. They may look benign, but these little guys are as sharp and prickly as a pack of porcupines.

He looks fairly innocent, right?

Look closer. You’ll see that he’s ready to bite.

No worries, though. For those of you who may not have done it before, I’ll show you how to de-prickle these little beasts—and remove the dangerous choke—and turn them into the succulent braised artichokes that you know and love.

Once they’re cleaned, they’re really easy to deal with. That’s all the choke down there…nasty business if you leave that in and try to serve it.

This dish take about 50 minutes to cook, so start them about an hour before you plan on serving dinner.

This is the third recipe in our Thanksgiving for Under $50 series, sponsored by Sam’s Club.

Stuffed Artichokes

Artichokes
4 large artichokes
2 cups panko breadcrumbs
1/2 cup grated Parmesan
zest and juice of 1 large lemon
kosher salt
ground white pepper
ground garlic
1/4 cup olive oil

Braising liquid
1 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup white wine
1/4 cup olive oil
1 lemon, halved

Serves 4-6, depending on if folks share

Clean and prep the artichokes

Grab your artichokes. Give them a quick rinse and dry them off well.

If you know how to do this, skip on ahead. If you’ve never cleaned an artichoke before, read on for a detailed guide on how to deal with them.

Take one artichoke. Hold it by the stem. With a pair of kitchen shears, nip off the top quarter inch or so of each leaf on the artichoke.

Repeat until you’ve completely disarmed the little bugger.

Once you’ve removed the barbs, hold the artichoke firmly and cut off the top inch or so. I find that this is easiest to do with a serrated bread knife.

See those purple-y leaves in there? That’s the choke, hiding.

Finally, saw off the stem, right at the base of the artichoke.

Try to cut it so it’s fairly level, so he’ll sit up straight in the pan.

Remove the choke

You’re not quite done cleaning your artichoke yet. You need to remove the choke. With your fingers, separate the leaves so you can see the center of the artichoke.

The choke is surrounded by those purple tipped leaves that look more like endive than artichoke.

Dig this whole mess out with a spoon (or a melon baller or grapefruit spoon). I do this by jabbing down with the spoon then scooping, just like digging out a plant in your garden that you don’t want to keep.

The bulk of the choke should come out in one piece.

(No wonder they call it a choke…I wouldn’t want to eat that!)

There will still be some feathery fronds left in the center of your artichoke. Dig all that out, too, and discard.

You want the center to be empty and clean.

Rub the artichokes with lemon

Artichokes are one of those veggies that will quickly brown once cut. Avoid this by rubbing the artichoke all over with a half a lemon. Once you do that, squeeze some juice into the center and kind of roll it around to coat the inside.

Congratulations! You’ve now disarmed and cleaned one artichoke.

Repeat with the rest.

Make the stuffing

The stuffing is really simple to make. Grab your panko breadcrumbs. (Panko are Japanese breadcrumbs. They’re made from crustless white bread, and are lighter and crisper than regular breadcrumbs. You can find them at most major markets these days, either with the stuffing or the Asian food.)

Put the panko in a large mixing bowl. Toss in the Parmesan.

Grate in the lemon zest.

Add the white pepper, garlic, and salt. Mix with a fork until fairly uniform. If you want to add other seasonings and spices, this is the time to do it.

Add the olive oil and squeeze in the lemon juice.

Mix with a fork until the crumbs are uniformly moist.

Stuff the artichokes

Grab one of your artichokes. Pull the leaves apart so you can see into the center.

Fill the center of the artichoke loosely with stuffing.

Pull back the leaves on the sides and drop some stuffing in between them.

Combine the water, wine, and olive oil in a large pan or pot. (Basically you want to use a pot that’s deep enough to hold the artichokes and has a tight fitting lid.) Now, this is a pretty basic braising liquid. You can totally add other stuff to it if you wanted…I’m thinking garlic, fresh herbs, chopped onion, etc.

Set the stuffed artichoke in the liquid, so he’s standing up.

Repeat with the rest of the artichokes.

(They’re not so tough now, eh?)

Squeeze a lemon over the whole business and drop both halves into the pot.

Braise the artichokes

Set the pot on the stove over medium high heat. Bring the liquid up to a boil.

When it starts to boil, knock the heat down so that the liquid just holds a simmer.

Cover the pot with a tight fitting lid. Cook like this, covered, for about 40-50 minutes, until the artichokes are tender. Keep an eye on the pot, and add more water and wine if it starts to evaporate too quickly.

Serve & enjoy!

When the artichokes are done, they’ll be sort of an olive green color, and they’ll be tender when you pierce them with a fork. Remove them from the pot carefully with tongs and transfer to a serving platter.

Serve immediately.

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Grab a fork and put on your fat pants

Happy Thanksgiving week to you all! This is one of our all-time favorite holiday side dishes.

It never disappoints whenever we bring it to a potluck. It’s easy to make, travels well, and reheats beautifully. It’s also unapologetically NOT low fat. (Lovers of old-school indulgent holiday dishes, unite!)

This is also the first recipe in our Thanksgiving for Under $50 series, sponsored by Sam’s Club. (Thank you, thank you!)

For this recipe, you mash up 5 lbs. of creamy Yukon Gold potatoes, add a practically illegal amount of butter, cream, and cheese, then top it with more cheese and crispy panko breadcrumbs and bake it until golden.

Add your own twist

This is also one of those recipes that it’s really easy to customize to fit various tastes and menus. Here are some ideas for stuff you could stir in after you add the cheese.

• A few handfuls of crispy, crumbled bacon (come on, you knew I’d say something like that)
• A tablespoon or two of freshly chopped herbs (rosemary, parsley, chives, and/or thyme would all be great)
• A minced clove of fresh garlic (vampires beware, keep in mind that the garlic won’t have much time to mellow/cook in the oven)
• Chopped, caramelized onions

You get the picture. Just don’t add anything that’s going to give off a lot of moisture when it’s warm. Too much liquid will make your mashed potatoes runny.

Oh, and if you want to switch out the cheeses, be sure to pick cheeses that melt well. Fine Cooking magazine has a great list of cheeses here.

Let me know what you come up with!

A note on salt

Aside from the cooking water for the potatoes, I don’t add any extra salt. The cheese already has a lot. By all means, if you think it needs it, toss a little extra in at the end when you taste it, before it goes into the oven.

Three-Cheese Mashed Potato Casserole

5 lbs. white or Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and diced
water for boiling
kosher salt
8 Tbls. butter (that’s 1 stick)
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 cups mozzarella, shredded
1 cup Asiago, shredded
1/2 cup Parmesan, grated + more for topping
white pepper
1 1/2 cups panko breadcrumbs

Serves 6-8

Peel & dice the potatoes

This bag of potatoes would feed a small army. I used about half of it for this recipe. I’m saving the other half for later on this week. (If we’re feeding you around the holidays, guess what we’re serving?)

Alrighty. Grab your potatoes. Since I’m going to peel them, I don’t bother washing them. (That said, these spuds were pretty clean.)

Relieve them of their jackets with the sharpest peeler or paring knife you have.

Whack them into small-ish pieces. The smaller (and more evenly) you cut them, the faster they’ll cook.

Toss them into a pot. Cover with cool water by an inch or two. Add a little kosher salt and give the pot a swirl to combine.

Boil the potatoes

Set the pot on the stove over high heat and bring it up to a boil. Cook uncovered, at a rolling boil, until the potatoes are tender when you stick them with a fork.

When they’re cooked through, drain them well. I like to let them sit in the colander for a few minutes to get all the extra water off them. (Too much water = soggy mashed potatoes.)

Mash away!

When the potatoes are well drained, toss them back into the cooking pot. Whack the butter into a few pieces and toss them into the pot. Add the cream.

Mash the potatoes to smoosh them and incorporate the butter as it melts.

Toss in all that glorious cheese (the mozzarella, Asiago, and Parmesan).

Toss in a little ground white pepper to taste. Mash well to incorporate. Give it a taste and adjust the seasoning as you see fit (more cheese, more pepper, etc.). If you’re adding any extra ingredients, throw them in now and stir to combine.

Bake the potatoes

Scoop the mashed potatoes out into a glass baking pan. I used a 7″x9″ pyrex baking dish. Don’t bother greasing it. Just toss the potatoes in. There’s a ton of butter in them, and they’re not going to be in the oven long enough to stick to the pan.

Smooth the potatoes down in a relatively even layer. Sprinkle the top generously with panko breadcrumbs. Then sprinkle on a layer of grated Parmesan. (To add your own twist, you could layer on some fresh, chopped herbs, or even some chopped walnuts or pinenuts.)

Slide the pan into your preheated 350-degree oven. Bake for about 15 minutes, until just golden brown on the top.

Serve, inhale, enjoy!

When the topping is nice and brown, yank the pan out of the oven. Serve warm.

How to reheat

Just in case you don’t polish off the whole pan in one sitting, reheat the potatoes in a 250-degree oven. Cover the pan loosely with foil.

Enjoy!

Next up: The Angry Chef’s Whiskey Glazed Roasted Turkey

Stay tuned tomorrow for the next installment of our Thanksgiving for Under $50 series. We’re doing the bird next. It’s actually a whole, bone-in turkey breast, which is a little more manageable than a Godzilla-sized bird.

Talk to you tomorrow!

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This past weekend, our esteemed friend the Baron von Hammer came to dinner.

Now, the Baron is one of my favorite people on the planet to feed, so I always try to put together an extra special, stick-to-your-ribs menu when he comes calling.

I also seem to be making a tradition of stuffing him with brontosaurus-sized slabs of meat.

Last time, it was Steakhouse-Style Pan Roasted Sirloins. This time, I did much the same thing, but with thick, bone-in rib-eyes. There was a cheesy noodle dish. There was a chocolate cheesecake (more on that in a few days).

And there was Fougasse. (Because you can’t invite a baron for a feast and serve him store-bought bread, right?)

Fougasse is a traditional Provencal bread that’s studded with olives and fresh herbs. It’s chewy and flavorful and (you guessed it) totally my new favorite bread.

Since I decided to make this on the fly, I made due with what I had on hand: Marinated green olives and dried rosemary and thyme.

You can definitely do the same. This bread would be fabulous studded with anything from smoked salt to fresh dill or even toasted walnuts.

The bread is rustic and so pretty to bring to the table—and really easy to make. Serve one or two with dinner, and send the rest home with your friends.

To the ovens!

Fougasse

(Provençal Bread with Olives & Herbs)

Adapted from Saveur

1 tsp. yeast
1 tsp. sugar
1 1/3 cups water
4 1/2 cups flour
2 Tbsp. olive oil, plus more for brushing dough
1 tsp. kosher salt
Cornmeal, for dusting
1/2 cup kalamata olives, minced
1/4 cup green olives, minced
2 tbsp. parsley, minced
2 tbsp. thyme, minced
1 tbsp. rosemary, minced
Sea salt
Freshly cracked black pepper

Yields 5 loaves (they’re on the thin side, so it’s not a totally unmanageable amount of bread)

Proof your yeast

Grab your yeast.

Put the yeast and sugar in the bowl of your mixer (or a large mixing bowl if you’re mixing by hand).

Toss in the water. (It should be warm enough to wash your hands, but not hot. Water that’s too hot will kill yeast, and your bread won’t rise.)

Whisk it together. Let it sit for about 10 minutes.

Take the time to do this. It’s the test to check and make sure that your yeast is alive and happy. I always do, even though it seems unnecessary, because I’d hate to add all the other ingredients, then find out that my bread won’t rise.)

After about 10 minutes, your yeast should “bloom.”

In other words, you’ll see a little opaque raft floating on the surface of the water. That means your yeast is alive and happy.

Make the dough

Toss in the flour and salt.

Add 2 Tablespoons of olive oil.

Give it a quick  mix to start the dough. I do this so that the mixer doesn’t throw flour all over my counter when I turn it on.

Knead for about 5 minutes on medium high, until you have a firm, dry-ish dough.

The first rise (about 1 1/2 hours)

Round up the dough in a rough ball in your bowl. Cover with a few damp paper towels and let it rise for about an hour and a half, or until it’s doubled in size.

(I did this in a new bowl, since I was using my mixer for something else and needed the bowl clean. If you’re not, you can just leave it in the bowl you mixed it in.)

(Sidebar: Penelope is really turning into a Kitchen Dog. She loves to hang out with me while I’m cooking! Isn’t she getting big?)

Shaping the loaves

When your dough has about doubled in size, you’re ready to shape your loaves. Line 3 sheet pans with parchment paper and set aside.  Toss a little flour on a board.

Grab your dough. Smoosh it around in your hands to get the air out of it. It should be on the dry side (as in, it won’t stick very much to your hands).

Round it up in a ball and set it on your board.

Whack it in 5 even wedges with a bencher or sharp knife.

Grab one wedge.

Roll it out so it’s about 8 inches long and 5 inches wide at the base.

Cut 3 long slits and 1 short slit in it like this:

Take the dough and transfer it to one of your prepared parchment lined pans. (Toss a little cornmeal on the paper if you like. I completely forgot to do this.)

When the dough is on the pan, pull the slits apart. This is going to be pretty representative of your finished bread, so be sure you’re happy with how the dough looks.

Repeat with the rest of the dough. I could fit 2 breads on 1 sheet pan.

Cover with lightly greased plastic wrap. Let them stand for about 30 minutes. They will poof up a little, but not dramatically. That’s just fine.

Bake the fougasse

Preheat your oven to 500 degrees about 15 minutes before you’re ready to bake. Chop up the olives and herbs. Like I said, I used dry herbs in a pinch here.

Lightly brush the surface of the dough with olive oil. Sprinkle with chopped olives.

Toss on a little salt and freshly cracked black pepper.

Bake the bread

Pop them into the oven and bake at 500 degrees for about 15 minutes, until golden brown.

I split my dough between 3 pans, so I baked 2 pans at once, then did the last pan afterwards.

Let cool on a wire rack, if you can bear to wait to tear into them. Enjoy!

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Seriously? You guys know me: This is kind of not my style.

Where’s the butter? Where’s the bacon? Why is there no wine? Why does this seem…healthy? Who are you and what have you done with The Mouse?

I know.

To me, edamame (a.k.a. soybeans) are those little salty pods that you nibble on when you’re out for Japanese and you’re waiting for your sushi to show up.

So, when I saw this recipe recently in Better Homes & Gardens, I was kind of surprised that I couldn’t couldn’t stop staring at the picture. It was a bowl of mashed peas and soybeans, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it.

Visual critter that I am, I knew I had to make it. The stuff was just so vibrantly GREEN. If I couldn’t bring myself to eat it, I reasoned, I could admire it, photograph it, then pawn it off on one of my veggie-loving friends.

But. (You know where this is going.)

I liked this stuff so much that I didn’t want to share.

I liked this stuff so much that I ate an embarrassing amount of it. With a spoon. Standing barefoot at my kitchen counter.

The whole time, I was thinking, this is like mashed potatoes, but it’s all green and good for you.

I swear, this stuff fulfills your craving for some kind of mashed-potato-like substance—but it’s better for you, and actually packs a lot of protein because you use a combination of sweet peas and edamame.

So how does it taste?

These smashed peas are smooth and earthy. Fresh lemon juice and mint add a little brightness and freshly cracked black pepper gives it a subtle heat. A handful of chopped green onion provides just a little onion-y bite. It gets a generous drizzle of fruity olive oil right before serving.

To my vegetarians friends: I think I get the soybean thing now. At least a little better. (Sigh. I know, it takes me forever to figure this stuff out.)

The original recipe from Better Homes serves this with ricotta toasts, which looked really good. I just didn’t get that far.

What kind of peas and soybeans should I buy?

Frozen ones. No joke. I picked up a package of Cascadian Farm Sweet Peas…

…and some Seapoint Farms edamame for the soybeans. I found both in the natural food section of my local Stop & Shop. Whichever brand of soybeans you buy, be sure to get the shelled kind. This is an easy recipe, in part, because there’s very little prep.

What’s the difference between edamame and soybeans?

Good question. And the answer is: Not much.

Edamame are basically baby soybeans. (Edamame is the Japanese word for soybean.) They’re picked when they’re immature and fill about 80 percent of their pod, which means that they’re still plump and green and relatively sweet.

Regular soybeans are dry and hard because they’re allowed to mature fully in their pods. You need to soak them just like dried beans before you can deal with them in the kitchen.

I won’t go on about the health benefits of soybeans, but they’re packed with protein, low in carbs, and are generally thought to be a heart-healthy food.

Smashed Peas with Mint

Adapted from Better Homes & Gardens

20 oz. frozen sweet peas
16 oz. frozen shelled edamame
water
kosher salt
freshly cracked black pepper
juice from 1 large lemon
1/2 tsp. garlic powder
1 scallion, sliced into rings
5-6 fresh mint leaves, chopped
1/4 cup olive oil

Serves 6-8 as a side

Simmer the peas and edamame

Bring a large pan with about a half-inch of water in it to a simmer on the stove. When the water is simmering, toss in the frozen sweet peas and edamame. No need to thaw them first. (If they’re frozen together in clumps in the bag, knock it against your counter a few times to loosen them up.)

Simmer them for about 5 minutes, until tender. (Yank one out of the pot and give it a nibble. You’ll know when you bite into it if it’s still kind of hard and raw.)

When they’re done, drain them well in a colander.

Puree the peas and edamame

When they’re well drained, toss the little green guys into your food processor. (If you don’t have a food processor, I’m reasonably sure you could do this with a potato masher and a little elbow grease.)

Process them on high until they’re smashed to bits. You may need to stop once or twice and scrape down the sides of your bowl. When they’re fairly mashed up, squeeze in the lemon.

Puree again on high to incorporate the lemon juice. In terms of consistency, you’re aiming for a chunky paste. Some leftover bits of peas are fine, but you should be able to spread it on a piece of toast with a knife.

Season the smashed peas

Toss in the garlic powder and some kosher salt and freshly cracked black pepper. (Start with a little, add more after you taste.)

Add the mint and most of the sliced scallion (save a little to garnish the dish).

Mix together until uniform. Transfer to a serving bowl.

Drizzle with good, fruity olive. Serve warm or at room temp.

Enjoy!

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