Romantic Dinner for One

Is it possible? To romance yourself? For a lover of food, the answer is yes, yes, yes! In honor of being alone when everyone else is celebrating each other, I decided to cook a nice meal for...me.

The upside of this is that creativity runs rampant. Cooking for one means being more adventurous in the kitchen when creating your own recipes, and when trying other peoples' recipes, picking one with ingredients that appeal to you. There's no worrying if the other person will like it; only one opinion matters.

So tonight, I pulled out a favorite bottle of wine (Root 1's complex and spicy carmenere), put on a favorite movie (The Jane Austen Book Club, starring a whole slew of strong female leads), and served myself a four course gastronomic celebration.

The opening course was where I really let my creativity explode, with a crostini slathered with dried apricot and orange chutney and drizzled with balsamic reduction.


I followed this with a main course of pasta, using a recipe from Jamie Oliver's cookbook Jamie's Italy, which can be found here. The main components of the sauce include anchovies, red wine, raisins, and tomato puree. It seemed a perfect selection, because I adore anchovies and know that many other people don't--a great dish to make for myself. The anchovies literally melted down, providing their unique salty fishiness to the sauce, which I find quite sexy.


The next course was a very simple brussel sprout salad. I sliced the brussel sprouts into slivers and tossed with sliced almonds, sea salt, pepper, olive oil, lemon juice and zest. The perfect fresh flavors to cleanse my palate for a very special dessert...


In honor of Valentine's Day, my fabulous mother sent me indulgent chocolate-covered figs. A perfect end to my romantic meal for one.


Yum.


For those interested, the recipe for my crostini:

Crostini with Apricot-Orange Chutney, Pecorino, and Balsamic Reduction

Ingredients
For the chutney:
2 T butter
3 slices of an orange, with rind, diced
5 dried apricots, diced
one small onion, diced
1/4 c sugar
2 or 3 T apple cider vinegar
1/4 t cumin (optional)
salt and pepper to taste

For the crostini:
A few slices of ciabatta
olive oil
garlic

To top:
Pecorino cheese, grated
3 T balsamic vinegar

First, make the chutney. Melt the butter in a small saucepan over medium low heat, then add onions and apricot. Saute about 3 minutes, until onions are slightly translucent. Add all other ingredients and saute about 5 more minutes. Take off heat and keep covered, at room temperature until ready to use.

To make crostini, brush slices of ciabatta with olive oil and toast in a skillet until golden brown on both sides. Once toasted, take a clove of garlic, cut in half lengthwise, and rub cut side on top of each slice of bread.

Simmer balsamic vinegar in a small saucepan until reduced by about half. While the balsamic is simmering, top each crostini with some chutney and grated pecorino cheese. Drizzle with balsamic reduction. Enjoy!

Exceptional Love

Here's another commentary for all you film buffs out there, though I'm hoping you don't find this one completely ridiculous, as the topic at hand is not the pithy life and love in Revolutionary Road, but the fluffy life and love of He's Just Not That Into You, which although it also explores the struggle of marriage, does it in a much more light-hearted manner, focusing primarily on the ubiquitous twenty-something (or even thirty-something) struggle--finding someone to love. Or just someone who will call after a date. But both movies, I think, are equally realistic, and equally examine truths about life, which is why I've chosen to talk about a movie that might seem "silly" here (plus, I love it, ok?).

He's Just Not That Into You structures its plot by following what I figure to be eight "love" stories (perhaps better termed "relationship" stories) between nine main characters. If that seems a little unlikely, note that one of said main characters, Conor, is involved in three of those eight stories. Each of these stories portrays people trying to follow "relationship rules" that we've all heard of--"don't call him, wait for him to call you," "if he hasn't married you after x amount of time, he never will (but will eventually marry someone younger/hotter)," and even, "don't talk to hot women other than your wife."

Some of these "rules" seem obvious, some seem ridiculous, and some of them may even seem wise. But the point is, we all follow (at least some of) them. Everyone adheres to rules that are imposed by society ("don't ask a girl out for Friday night at 3pm Friday afternoon"), your particular subset of society ("don't date--court"), or simply, yourself ("don't date a guy with small hands"--my personal rule). We may pick and choose which of these rules to follow, but we all know what they are, and hope they will help us on our path to finding "the one".

Although all the characters in the film are following and influenced by "the rules", the character of Alex (interestingly played by Justin Long, who gets to be a tough, asshole kind of character instead of his usual endearing wimp) is the one who perpetuates them, spells them out for the viewer. He meets the movie's primary heroine, Gigi (played by adorable Ginnifer Goodwin), a week after her first date with Conor. Still not hearing from Conor a week later, Gigi has decided to "casually" bump into him at a restaurant he mentioned that he frequents. He's a no-show, and when she embarrassingly spills the story to Alex, he gives her the first rule--"If a guy is acting like he doesn't give a shit, he genuinely doesn't give a shit." Seems like good advice to me, and it did to Gigi too--so she begins calling Alex anytime she's with a new guy, and he continues to add to the rules. The rules are very important to Alex, and even when Gigi tells him some story of a friend of a friend of a friend for whom things worked differently, Alex is quick to point out what it is--an exception. Gigi shares with her friends, "We have got to stop listening to all these stories because...we're not the exception, we're the rule."

Of course, in typical rom-com fashion, Gigi falls for Alex and is convinced he feels the same way because of "the signs." When she makes her feelings known, he rejects her, reminding her of the rules--she shouldn't assume anything. "If a guy wants to make it happen, he will make it happen."

Don't worry, as you probably guessed, Gigi and Alex get together in the end when he realizes how much he misses her and shows up at her apartment. Although this may seem like just a typical chick flick plot line, the message is a good one, because, as Alex says to Gigi mid-kiss--"You are my exception." And I think that's the truth. Not just for them, not just for the couples in the movie (some of whom end up single, by the way), but for all of us. We can follow the rules all we want, but our real love stories--the real loves of our lives--will be the exceptions. Everything you think you want or think you should do in a relationship won't matter when it actually comes along.

So, to all you singles out there, planning on spending (another) Valentine's Day alone, don't worry if you break a few rules, and remember that your exception is out there somewhere. And don't forget to break the biggest Valentine rule of all (the importance of being with someone), and love the one you're with--YOU.

Revolutionary Thinking

Note: This entry contains some spoilers for the movie Revolutionary Road.

I am much more a person of thought than of action; more likely to be found thinking than doing. So it comes as no surprise that when left alone in a snowed-in house for days, thoughts would swirl up around me with greater passion than usual. All this ruminating has extended to an area that I usually rest in, thought-free: film.

This may seem surprising--many movies are meant to be thought-provoking, telling powerful stories that stick in our minds. Well, those aren't the types of movies I usually choose. In fact, as embarrassing as it is to admit, I prefer mind-less movies that will merely entertain me and require no mental acrobatics. I am a great lover of the chick-click genre as it makes no demands of me. Perhaps this is because I view movies as an escape from my usual state of being (thinking); purely a chance to knit and relax.

However, I occasionally wind up watching a movie that does make demands of me, one that generates more thought. Being snowed-in, I've been watching more movies than usual, so it was bound to happen. Yesterday I watched Revolutionary Road, which inspired many thoughts, and I feel compelled to write about it here, in an effort to sort some of them out.

I chose the movie on the basis of the lead actors--Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio--who I think are two of the best actors of our generation. Of course, they first appeared together over ten years ago in Titanic; interestingly, both movies tell stories of love that must end, and in both cases, someone dies.

Revolutionary Road tells the story of Frank and April Wheeler, a young couple in the 1950s, who are faced with dilemmas that still confront people today--falling in and out of love in your marriage, the struggle of raising children, unexpected pregnancy, expectations of conformity from society-at-large, and the question of what makes a satisfying career (or life, for that matter).

Caught in the rut of suburbia and experiencing marital problems, April comes up with a fix-all solution--move to Paris. Paris, she thinks, will solve all their problems, giving Frank the chance to escape a job he hates and have the time to discover what he really wants to do while April supports him financially (remember, this is the 1950s!). And of course, their love will be reignited, because nothing's sexier than two young people breaking the mold and following their dreams.

"This is our chance, Frank," April insists. "This is our one chance." And in that, one of the themes of the movie--what you do with your chances in life. Do you take them, or let them pass you by? For Frank, the chance of Paris isn't as simple as it is for April. Because he's offered another chance--a new job with a new (much bigger) salary. And with April unexpectedly pregnant again, it seems like a good opportunity. Bart, the executive who offers Frank the position, has something to say about chance as well:

A man only gets a couple of chances in life. If he doesn't grab them by the balls, it won't be long before he's sitting around wondering hoe he got to be second rate.

It seems that one message of the movie is that chance is subjective--what's chance to one will look like foolishness to another. Bart thinks he's offering Frank an opportunity. April sees it as oppression.

And it's this tension that is the root of Frank and April's problem. She values searching, while he values stability. Frank and April have a fight when he suggests they shouldn't go to Paris:

Frank: I have the backbone not to run away from my responsibilities.
April: It takes backbone to lead the life you want, Frank.

It seems that both are right. Facing responsibility, facing dreams, both take courage. I think we can only conclude that life is always hard. There is no quick-fix-Paris solution. It is difficult to honor responsibilities and commitments, and it is equally difficult to make some shooting-star dream become a reality.

Revolutionary Road is essentially a movie about living, and in examining Frank and April's lives, it led me to examine my own. Like Frank, I have responsibilities that I don't always enjoy. Like April, I have dreams that remain just that--dreams. Her response was to see the situation as hopeless. Is there any other? How else can we judge our lives when we look at them and see desires that aren't realities? I suppose I could be like April. And maybe in her situation I would be. But for me, I see those unmet dreams not as hopeless, but hopeful. Hopeless will be the day I stop dreaming.

Frank says to April at the beginning of their relationship, "I want to feel things. Really feel them." And I think that's what's important. Feeling, not taking for granted. Remember that you are alive. And as for staying true to responsibilities, that's what connects us to other humans. It makes us part of something bigger than just ourselves.

Tools of the trade

Here's a glimpse into the most mundane corner of my life.

Though while I'm at it, let me just how much I love my wooden spoon. A wooden spoon is one of the most useful kitchen tools, and I'm constantly grabbing for it. And it's wood. So organic and raw.

From the roots, grow branches

At heart, I would consider myself to be an Italian cook. I enjoy making pizza, pasta, and polenta, dishes so ingrained in my psyche that I can get any of them ready in minutes without a recipe. Stirring a pot of risotto is one of the most comforting activities I can imagine. I'm a true Tuscan in my love of white beans, salami (real salami), and greens. And I love love love Italian wine.

Italian food philosophy appeals to me; it's all about freshness and passion. Italy is a country of lovers, amore being a way of life, and this carries over into the kitchen. Italian food isn't fancy, but it is life itself. It's about using a few ingredients perfectly, re-inventing your leftovers, and putting your own spin on classics (every Italian chef thinks his way is the only way).

But lately I've been straying a bit from the motherland, venturing into new worlds of food and flavor. As I mentioned in my feasting post, I've been looking to the Middle East (even North Africa!) for inspiration. I made a pizza the other night, but it was more of a Middle Eastern flatbread, topped with feta cheese, dried apricots, and almonds. Handmade tortillas have become a staple bread around my house, and I've been slurping up rice noodles from clean, ginger-y broth.

Asia is definitely an area I've been finding inspiration in, and last night I found myself in China, making a variation of these little dumplings, or as we sometimes call them, pot stickers. This is something I've never tried making before, and actually, I don't even know that I've ever ordered them at a restaurant. Mine were definitely a spin-off of the recipe on epicurious, as I didn't have any ground pork, so my filling was primarily chopped shrimp and cabbage. But I made use of the helpful videos of chef Anita Lo making the noodle dough and filling/folding the dumplings, to better learn this new skill. As you can see from my picture, my dumplings were not quite so beautifully pleated as hers:

Though note that my last two were significantly better, so I think I was making progress!

I think part of the problem was that I wasn't using ground meat as the base for my filling, so the filling tended to move about more instead of staying in a neat little ball. But all in all, I'm pretty pleased with myself, and the finished result, served with green jasmine tea, was delicious!

Snowy Thoughts

I don't know how many of you are having the same weather experience, but in my life, it's been pretty darn snowy around the place. So snowy, in fact, that it's safe to say snow is governing my life. I'm not working because all the schools are canceled. When I want to go into town, it takes me at least twice as long to get there. I'm not going outside much because I hate the cold, and the snow is too deep to really walk around. So I'm left alone in a huge house with nothing but my thoughts for company.

Of course, my first inclination is to cook. Mostly, I've been making all kinds of warming, comforting foods. For breakfast this morning I had biscuits with sausage gravy, something I'd never make normally. The other night, I made a red wine vegetable stew over the fire in my fireplace, which, I must say, felt pretty damn cool.

But beyond cooking, what else is there? Watching movies is nice, but I can only do that so much without feeling like a huge slob. Housework, but generally, the house is clean enough. Knitting, but my stash of yarn is dwindling, and I've always considered that more of a social activity anyway. Reading, but I can't find the right book.

I've always been somewhat of a reclusive person, but this snow is beating the hermit out of me. Movies (like He's Just Not That Into You, which I watched last night) are more fun when disected with a friend. I'm more inspired to clean when my mom's around, because I know she'll appreciate it. My knitting moves faster when I have someone to talk to. And I enjoy reading great bits aloud to whoever is around.

And of course, eating. I do like cooking for myself--I can make whatever I want and not worry if someone else is going to like it--but generally, it's more enjoyable to eat with company.

So I thought I'd just get some of my thoughts out on the blog-o-sphere before I go back to thinking alone.

A Feast for One

The title of this post may seem a bit oxymoronic. Can one really feast? Can you feast alone? I'm reading a fascinating history of feasting called Charlemagne's Tablecloth by Nichola Fletcher, and this is a point she briefly addresses, commenting that while by definition a feast does imply a group of people (and I should hope so--one feast she cites, given by the Archbishop of York in 1465--included over 41,000 items of meat, ranging from wild bull, to venison, to rabbit, to swan), there have been times in history, though rare, when feasts have been given for one. Usually, however, as in the case of the Roman Apicius, he feasted and then ended his life by swallowing poison.

Although I had no plans of ingesting poison, a feast for one was sounding pretty darn good. At least a mini one.

As always happens when I read books about food, I began to get intense cravings for, well, food (another book--highly recommended that induced the same feeling can be seen here). My cravings ranged from miso soup, to chicken mole, to kibbeh nayeh (raw ground lamb with bulgher), to flatbread. And these weren't even the dishes I was reading about. This is often the problem when I try to piece together a meal--my mind is so muddled with a variety of dishes, that I can never organize my thoughts to choose one. And there's also the obvious problem that all of these dishes come from different parts of the world. Take my initial craving--hummus. That was the first food that I began dreaming about, but I was picturing myself eating it slathered on...naan. Normally, I try to cook all my food from the same general country/region, so this was a bit of a mental stumbling block for me.

Well, after much contemplation, agonizing, and a phone call to my mother, I decided to run with it. India may not be part of the Middle East, but at least it's in the same general latitude. And so, regional differences aside, my personal feast began to grow, and evolved to this:

There's the naan front and center, and the little bowl of hummus in the back. The olives and feta make Greece represented at the meal, there's a salad of oranges and red onion, drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with salt and pepper, which is probably best described as Italian, and that blue bowl in the back is a dish from the wonderful Olives and Oranges cookbook--raw julienned turnip, marinated in sea salt, lime juice, and harissa (a spicy pepper paste--I didn't have any, so I made my own mock-up of it with some chili powder, olive oil, and a dried red chili). This dish is from Tunisia. (To drink, I had an Argentinian Malbec) So there you have it, a feast from many nations. For one.

You may notice that the food is all spread out on the floor, and that's exactly when I ate it. On the floor, in front of a fire, and...with my hands. There something very sensual about touching your food as you eat it, and since I had the naan to serve as a utensil, this worked very well. The oranges were probably the most fun. I took a slice, and folded it up like a taco, with some of the onion inside. So delicious.

Note: I had never made naan before last night, and I was pleased with how it turned out. I used an amalgam of recipies, so, for any interested, here's what I did:

You'll need:
1 1/2 c flour
~1 tsp. sugar
~1 1/2 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
~1/4 c of plain Greek yogurt (I used Oikos brand, and almost all of a 5.3 oz. container)

Put all of the dry ingredients into a bowl and whisk to mix. Whisk in the yogurt, incorporating as much of the flour mixture as possible. Once the yogurt is incorporated (there will be a lot of flour left), add water, two tablespoons at a time, until all the flour is mixed together to form an elastic dough. Kneed dough until smooth, adding more flour if needed. Let the dough rest, covered in a dish towel, for at least ten minutes.

To my understanding, naan is usually cooked on the inside of a heated clay drum. As I don't have one, I just used a cast-iron skillet. Heat the skillet, and take a piece of the dough (a little bigger than a golf ball). Roll out the dough. You want it to be pretty thin, as the naan will puff up some while cooking. Cook until browned (unevenly) on side and then flip, really only a minute per side. Keep the naans warm on a plate under a dish towel while you cook the rest.