A personal note

A little over a year ago, my cousin, James, unexpectedly passed away. It was sudden and very painful for our family. He was a giant bear of a guy, always quick with a joke, a story, and a big huge hug. Before he passed, he was looking forward to turning 30 and getting married to his fiancé. Instead, our family ended up holding a memorial service for him. It was a simply amazing event, to be honest. He was a sales manager at Google and it seemed that everyone knew who he was. His managers at Google were incredibly generous and offered one of their cafés for the remembrance. The place was packed. The impact he made on everyone was evident. Unfortunately for me, I didn't know my cousin very well. Even though we were only a year apart in age, we led very different lives. I learned a lot about him at his memorial, which, had I the choice, I would've not wanted. I would've wanted to opportunity to get to know him from him. One thing that I had only partially known was his love of food and his passion for cooking. Our grandma once said when my cousin and I were both young that we should open our own restaurant: Micky and Jim's. We laughed about it, but obviously nothing happened. We lived our own separate lives and it wasn't until a year before he died that we attempted to get together as friends. Our schedules never meshed, unfortunately. We did end up running into each other at our local Pizza Antica one night, while looking for a place to take some friends of ours who were in the area. I will say that, for how brief that run-in was with him, it has made a lasting impact. Whenever I pass by that Pizza Antica or go there for dinner, I'm half-expecting my cousin to pop up out of nowhere, yell my name, and pick me up into a big hug.

My uncle (his father) and James' mom got together with Sprouts Cooking Club and started the James Cole Sprouts Scholarship Fund. Sprouts is a cooking club whose purpose is to promote cooking and healthy eating to children of all cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds. They host hands-on cooking classes with professional chefs for children in the San Francisco Bay Area in the hopes the next generation knows how to eat and how to cook good ingredients. The scholarship fund started in memory of my cousin helps fund classes and events to foster the passion for cooking my cousin had in all children.

Being my cousin's birthday today, I thought I'd use my cooking blog to plug Sprouts and, in particular, the James Cole Sprouts Scholarship Fund. If you feel like donating, please feel free. Do not feel you are under any obligation whatsoever.

I miss you, James.

I Heart Broccoli: Broccoli Soup with Cheddar Croutons

Last weekend, my two very good friends from college took me out to give me my birthday present: mani-pedi's. We also threw in some eating, drinking, and shopping, too. While we were sauntering around and window shopping, we ended up at Anthropologie. I honestly cannot wear anything in that store, try as I might. I don't have the right complexion for the majority of the tones they play with and I definitely do not have the body, either (a wide body + flowy skirts, dresses, and tops = not that great). The thing that Anthropologie does have that I love to browse is their kitchenware section. Most of it is tchotchke items, but if I had the money to throw, I'd buy a handful of their beautiful mugs and linens. Anyway, while browsing, something caught my eye: a beautiful...brightly colored...cookbook. I love big splashy cookbooks with pages of photographed dishes and food. The book is Ripe: A Fresh Colorful Approach to Fruits and Vegetables. It's a gorgeous book, first separated by color, and then by ingredient. I'd never seen a cookbook organized by color, but I love it (even has a website)! It helps illustrate the approach the author, Cheryl Sternman Rule, is going for. What grabs your attention in the produce section or farmer's market? Color. Color is was signifies ripeness, it signifies nutritional value, it signifies deliciousness. I quickly grabbed the book and brought it home. I haven't treated this cookbook like the others I have on my shelf. I have treated this cookbook like an actual book. My husband found me in the chair in our office curled up with this book, reading it, and he chuckled. "Who reads a cookbook?" Well, I do, I suppose. Each ingredient is prefaced with a vignette from the author, talking about her relationship with the ingredient. Her writing style is humorous, sarcastic, and genuine. It's similar to how I talk and even a bit how I write. I know I'll find myself leafing through this book a hundred more times, and you'll see plenty of her recipes posted here, as I find something new and exciting to make. But, of course, the first ingredient I turned to was broccoli.

I think I've mentioned my love of this particular member of the cabbage family before. I love broccoli. I've always had. It's not like it's a newly found favorite, like brussel sprouts (shh, don't tell my mom...), I've always loved broccoli. When I was a kid, my favorite vegetable side was steamed broccoli, topped with a splash of red wine vinegar. I never understood my cousins' infatuation with cheese sauce. Why drown these little tender trees with heavy thick cheese? Don't get me wrong, I love cheese sauce, but broccoli has this great flavor - why cover it up? Plus, I loved the texture of the stalk and the "leaves" of the crowns. It's a little sweet, a little bitter, and a whole lot of delicious. In college, my dorm fridge was stocked with bags of prepared broccoli florets. I'd throw them in a bowl with a bit of water and pop in the microwave for a minute or so. Pull it out and snack on them while watching TV or chatting online. The second half of my senior year consisted of broccoli florets and microwave-baked potatoes (plus its various toppings: hello baked beans!). My husband would shake his head whenever he'd visit and open my fridge to find these two items in abundance (amid bottles of beer, of course). No one could ever say my diet was unhealthy. It certainly wasn't a varied diet by any extent, but at least I wasn't living off of Hot Pockets.

So, what did Ms. Rule have in store for my favorite vegetable? Why, soup, of course! I love a good soup, but unfortunately the majority of broccoli soups at restaurants tend to be heavy, thick, and full of "cheese", with absolutely no flavor of broccoli, unless you count the sour taste of overcooked cabbage as the flavor of broccoli (which no one should). This soup has but a little bit of cheese in it and no cream. It uses an immersion blender and a bit of Greek yogurt to thicken at the end, but otherwise it's all broccoli on the inside. The thing that really caught my attention for this soup, though, was the combination of spices used to flavor the soup: whole cumin seeds, fennel seeds, and ground coriander. This elevates the soup entirely and places it into more Indian fare than American. Oh, and did I mention it's topped with cheddar croutons?* I love croutons in my soup (one of the reasons I LOVE French Onion Soup) and these add a lovely sharpness against the spicy thick soup. As the author notes before the recipe "As with most soups, its flavor improves over time." The spices are super potent even after a day after the soup is cooked. Total powerhouse of flavor, it definitely stands on its own. Or, you know, paired with an open-faced grilled cheese with tomato, which is what we did with the leftovers.

* Haha, okay, funny story about the croutons. The recipe says to line a baking sheet with parchment when making the cheddar croutons. I pulled out my roll of parchment and grabbed what was left of the roll: a 18" x 1" strip. Well, that wasn't going to do me any good. So, I grabbed what I thought would've been a fine substitute: aluminum foil. Boy, was I wrong. The cheese immediately stuck fast to the foil and took the cubes of bread hostage. I did what I could with my spatula when trying to flip and turn the croutons during baking, but it was a big fat mess. In my final step, attempting to rescue the croutons from the metal clutches of the foil, my husband peeks over my shoulder and says "Wouldn't a silpat worked better?" I shot him the look of death over my shoulder and he high-tailed it out of the kitchen. How stupid of me? I have 2 silpats in my arsenal. Why didn't I think to use them?! As I went about picking little bits of foil off of the salvaged croutons, I yelled to my husband in our office: "And, yes, a slipat would've worked better."

Best Salad Ever - Now with Shrimp!: Shrimp Club Salad

Remember a while back (you'll need to go a ways, considering the speed at which I post things...) when I made the best salad ever? Okay, well, if you a) can't remember, or b) don't feel like clicking the link I provided to you TAKE you to the "best salad ever", this was the BLT Salad. It was everything in a BLT, but in salad form. Creamy garlic dressing coating cool crisp romaine leaves, juicy sweet and tart cherry tomatoes, with crunchy salty bacon sprinkled throughout? That jogging your memory? What if I told you to add sweet, succulent shrimp to the mix? How would you feel about that? Well, I, for one, love the little buggers. Shrimp is on the top of my "favorite proteins" list. It's versatile, tender, and delicious. Ever since I was little, I loved shrimp in all its forms. Remember those shrimp burgers I posted about? Yum! Shrimp is delicious on its own, or dipped in tangy spicy cocktail sauce, mixed with vegetables in a stir-fry over rice, roasted, BBQ'ed, boiled in Cajun spice, I really could go on (much like my good friend, Bubba Blue). So, when I saw Martha Stewart's Everyday Food June issue boasting an entire section dedicated to shrimp, I snatched it from its check-out rack and threw it on the conveyor belt.

Martha's Shrimp Club Salad did not disappoint. Now I must state that this isn't just the BLT Salad with cooked shrimp thrown in, although it certainly contained all the same ingredients, but it was definitely different. A big difference is the dressing. It's creamier than the BLT Salad dressing and it doesn't contain any garlic. The thing about this salad is that the flavors in the bowl complement the shrimp. The big garlicky dressing from the BLT Salad would overpower the delicate pink pieces of meat (now, next to just the lettuce, tomato, and bacon: the garlicky deliciousness of that dressing adds to the flavor powerhouse; nothing is drowned out). Instead, the dressing for our Shrimp Club Salad is a simple mixture of mayo, chives and lemon juice. That's it and it's perfect. The dressing coats everything with this velvety and tangy goodness that brings out the sweetness of the shrimp, the saltiness of the bacon, the tang of the tomatoes. This is a great summer salad and perfect for those nights when it's just too damn hot to cook and too damn hot to go out. Okay, so you'll have to endure a little heat from cooking the shrimp and the bacon, but the final product will cool things down immediately. Serve with a crisp and fruity Savignon Blanc or perhaps a frosty Pilsner (or iced tea, if wine and beer aren't your thing) and you won't even notice the 100-degree weather outside!