Open-Faced Tomato Sandwich on Griddled Sourdough Bread

The high point of my summer is finally here: my tomatoes are starting to come in in earnest. And you know how I CAN'T STOP eating them???

Alright, everybody, follow me:

• Get yourself a slice of good, hearty bread. I like using Pigs Can Fly Sourdough.
• Place 2 Tblsp. of good butter in a small skillet and melt over medium heat until it just starts to bubble and sizzle.
• Place the slice of bread in the pool of melted butter, kind-of mopping up the butter as you do so. Move the bread to the center of the skillet and just let it sit for about 3-4 minutes.
• Flip the bread over, mopping up any browned butter still in the skillet, and let it sit for another 2-3 minutes.
• Remove your griddled bread from the pan and place it on a plate. 
• Slice a thick slice (or two) of beefsteak tomato and lay it on the toast.
• Sprinkle the tomato with a bit of kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper.
• EAT. 

Right???? OMG.

And you are welcome.

What to Do with All Those Cucumbers?: A Quick and Easy Cucumber Salad Recipe

They kill me, cucumber plants.  

Every day I go out and inspect my garden to see what the new day brings.  I love the suspense and surprise of finding what 24 hours of sun can do to a plant.  Inches seem to be added to a lettuce tower.  That cherry tomato is finally the right shade of red.  The basil has sprouted some new flowers.

But none of those babies can beat the cucumber plant.  I swear to God, fruit just magically appears on those suckers.  Every morning I go out and turn over every leaf, looking for some pickings and finding just babies, and the next morning I lift a leaf, and I'm like, "WHOA!!! Nice cucumber!" Full grown, fat deliciousness just hanging and waiting for me...

I love suspense, so I'm cool with these games.  I'm also cool with what I've been doing to them at dinner time:

The quantities below made enough for me eating solo; double or triple as needed.  And remember, this is a salad, so you can adjust quantities of ingredients to taste however you like.  As David Rocco says, "QB!"

Tools Needed: 1 small bowl, a fork, a juicer of some sort

Ingredients:

• 1 small cucumber (about 6" long), halved lengthwise and sliced thickly
• 1/2 a small shallot, very thinly sliced
• juice of 1/2 a small lemon (you can go lighter but don't go over; it's too much)
• 2-3 large basil leaves, rolled up then thinly sliced
• kosher salt to taste
• freshly ground black pepper
• a tiny dash of cayenne peper
• a few shaved slices of jalapeno (optional)

Steps to Make: 

1.  Squeeze the lemon juice into a small bowl.

2.  Add the cucumber slices and the kosher salt.  Toss well.

3.  Add the rest of the ingredients to the bowl and toss well.  Let the flavors meld in the fridge while you make the rest of dinner, tossing the salad once in awhile until ready to serve.

And that's it.  A summer salad that is light, zingy, and clean.  Perfect match for a burger, some ribs, or a grilled chicken.

Spatchcocking, anyone?

Ode to a Grecian Breakfast: A Recipe for Strapatsada

For as much as I hated eggs as a child (just ask my family about "Rachael's egg stories"), I can't believe that I'm actually blogging about this breakfast.  But it is so good and so quick and so easy, I simply have to.  It is called strapatsada: Greek scrambled eggs with tomatoes, feta, and oregano.  Chef Reiton saw it being made by Bittman on Times On Air, JetBlue's video magazine, and came home with the recipe written down on a airplane beverage napkin.  We tried them and--mamma mia! New favorite breakfast in the Reiton house!

To those of you who don't like eggs, give this recipe a shot.  I know this may sound strange considering you are technically eating scrambled eggs, but--it doesn't taste like eggs.  The whole concoction is a delicious blend of flavors and textures that oddly doesn't resemble American scrambled eggs at all.  Instead of being squishy and mild, strapatsada are tender and robust and herby.

This cooks together quickly, so have everything ready before you start.

You will need: a hand grater, a small bowl, a fork or a whisk, a small rubber spatula, a small non-stick pan.

To make a single serving, this is what I use (but you can multiply this times however many people you are serving):

• 1 small tomato-on-the-vine tomato (or a plum tomato from the garden. Yum!)
• 1 1/2-ish Tblsp. olive oil
• 1 small garlic clove, minced or grated
• 2 separate portions of crumbled plain feta cheese, 1 Tblsp. each (use less if this is too much for your taste)
• 1/4 tsp. dried oregano, crushed or 1 tsp. fresh leaves, roughly chopped with a few as garnish
• kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper
• 2 eggs, whisked together until well-blended

1) Slice the very bottom off the tomato.  Hold the hand grater at an angle in the bowl, place the sliced bottom of the tomato against the grater, and then grate the tomato into the bowl.  As you slide the tomato up and down the grater, the skin will peel back and flatten out on the face of the grater and the flesh will squeeze through the holes into the bowl.  Set the pulp aside and toss the skin.

2) Heat the olive oil in a small non-stick pan and toss in the garlic for about 30 seconds.  Add the tomato pulp, salt and pepper to taste, and the oregano.  Bring to a boil, then turn the heat down so that the mixture is at a simmer, stirring occasionally.  Cook until you don't see any more water in the pan when you push the tomatoes to the side with the spatula.  You want to be only seeing the more viscous liquid of the olive oil left.  I would say give it a good 7 minutes or more, depending on the heat setting.

3) Add the eggs and one of the portions of feta cheese and start slowly stirring.  The tomatoes and the eggs will begin to blend.  Continue stirring until the eggs are opaque and have cooked mostly through, about 4 minutes.  They will finish cooking on the plate from the residual heat.  You will still see liquid in the pan, but this is from the oil and tomatoes, not the eggs.

4)  Plate your strapatsada, sprinkle with the second portion of feta and your oregano garnish, and dive in!

Cooking Dinner for My Very Clean Colon: A First Meal Post Colonoscopy...

It may sound funny, but it's true. After my colonoscopy yesterday, my body is empty.  It's rather a strange feeling. I kind-of feel brand new—like starlight and rainbows...  (I'm just kidding. It really just makes you feel ice-cold, being poop-free.)

So tonight, when I thought about the fact that the ginormous organ inside of me didn't have anything to work on except what I tossed in there for my evening meal—I couldn't help but think twice about dinner.  The idea of gulping down a big spicy dish of somethin'-somethin' or a meaty hunk of whatever didn't sound so great as I stood in front of the open fridge.  I wanted veggies, but even the broccoli looked daunting to digest.  What did I have that was vegetarian but with minimal fiber for this first substantial dinner of mine after being made clean as a whistle?

Well, this is what I pulled out of the fridge, out of the garden, and off the counter:

• that damn box of pea shoots from Trader Joe's again (I was determined to finish it off—only a handful were left.)
• a lemon
• a small zucchini
• a clove of garlic
• a baby bella mushroom
• bacon fat
• 3 little sprigs of cilantro
• kosher salt
• fresh cracked pepper

And here's what I did with it all:

1) Over medium-high heat in a 10-inch skillet, I melted a teensy little teaspoon of bacon fat.  I added the minced garlic clove and the finely chopped mushroom, tossed them in the fat, and let them sizzle, stirring occasionally, for about 2 minutes.

2) I then added the zucchini, quartered lengthwise and chopped into 1/4-inch thick slices on the bias, to the skillet.  I tossed the zucc with the fat to coat the pieces, sprinkled on salt and pepper, stirred it all again, shook the skillet to create an even layer, then let it all sit for 3 minutes.

3) With the bottom side of the zucc nicely browned, I stirred the skillet then scattered on top the handful of pea shoots (gathered up in a bunch on the cutting board then chopped right below the leaves to get rid of the stem portion) and the torn-up leaves of the cilantro sprigs.  I squeezed a quarter of the lemon over the whole mess, then stirred it all to wilt the shoots.

4) I plated the veggies, garnished it with lemon zest from the butt of the lemon, and ATE.

Time to prep? 5 minutes (if you are a slow prepper, like me). Time to cook? 6 minutes. And, oh! What a great surprise! By cooking from my gut (I'm learning!), I prepared a dish for the transition of seasons: deep and earthy from the mushrooms, bacon fat, and garlic. Light from the zucchini. Zingy and bright from the cilantro and lemon.  It was like summer and fall mingling on my plate, both vying for my tongue's attention—and both happily getting it.

Properly Planting Homegrown Hops

Yesterday, in an amazingly short amount of time, D and I put in the hops.

This is a "hill."  We cut out the sod in four separate circles, then covered each circle with 6-inch tall mounds made of manure and top soil:

 

After we finished the mounds, we staked each of them with a 6-foot stake.

 

Next went on a weed mat:

 

and then we planted the hop rhizomes.  Here's what one looks like:

Each mound then got mulched and labeled.

Here are the four varieties that we are growing:

It is going to be a fascinating summer, watching these come in! We've put them in a bit late, but from what we've read, hops are extremely hardy, so we shouldn't have a problem. And next year they are going to get much taller. We'll see how it goes for Year 1. I'll keep you all posted.

I can't wait to brew with our own hops! Woohoo!!!