Pine-Mouth-Proof Pesto

Have you ever heard of pine-mouth? My husband had it once, and it was terrible. Pine-mouth is a mysterious taste disturbance caused by consuming pine nuts that makes everything you eat taste bitter and gross. It lasts for an indefinite length of time, possibly days or weeks, and I’ve even heard horror stories of cases that never clear up. My husband’s pine-mouth lasted for nearly a week. There has been some speculation that old or rancid pine nuts are to blame. Or that the variety coming from China is the culprit. But nobody really knows why it happens and when it might strike. (For the record, the pine nuts that caused my husband’s pine-mouth tasted normal and had no off odor. Strangely, I had eaten from the same batch of pesto and suffered no ill effects.)

I’ve always loved the unique taste and texture of pine nuts, but ever since my husband’s experience with pine-mouth I’ve been a little less enthusiastic about cooking and eating them. I still do it on occasion but every time feels a bit like a game of Russian roulette for the palate. Even if I didn’t rely on my sense of taste to make a living, it would be cause for hesitation.

Then one day Hubby and I were wandering through the aisles of Bob’s Red Mill Whole Grain Store, which carries a huge variety of unusual grains and seeds, when we stumbled across hemp seeds.

They were relatively expensive, but you know I can never pass up an opportunity to try something new, so we decided to splurge on a package. Lo and behold, the tiny little seeds reminded me a lot of pine nuts, right down to the waxy texture!

Sometimes I still risk it, but when I don’t feel like jeopardizing my taste buds, I make pesto with raw hulled hemp seeds instead of pine nuts. It’s quite delicious and tastes very much like the real thing. By the way, hemp seeds are also good sprinkled on salads.

Before I get to the recipe, I’d like to thank The Commercial Appeal and SiouxCityJournal.com for jumping on the butter bandwagon!

Basil-Hemp Seed Pesto
Printable Recipe

2 ½ cups fresh basil leaves
3 cloves garlic, minced
½ cup hulled hemp seeds
½ cup grated Parmegiano-Reggiano
1/3 cup extra virgin olive oil

Combine all of the ingredients in a food processor and pulse until smooth.

Makes about 1 ¼ cups. Use just as you would classic basil pesto with pine nuts: toss with pasta, stir into soup, spread on sandwiches, or spoon over grilled steak or fish. If not using right away, minimize browning by transferring the pesto to a jar and pouring over enough olive oil to generously coat the surface. It’ll keep for a couple of days tightly sealed in the refrigerator.

At Long Last

I’m back.

I didn’t mean to be gone so long, but this fall was a difficult one. Though I wanted nothing more than to be here, it wasn’t meant to be—one thing after another kept me away…

There were problems at work, problems that caused me much stress and angst. Complications that drove me to distraction and made it difficult to see the big picture. At times it seemed my entire professional future was in doubt.

There was a debilitating back injury, one that made both sleep and work nearly impossible. One that continues to lurk in the background, threatening constantly.

And then there was a death in the family the day after Thanksgiving. It was the result of a supposedly routine procedure. It wasn’t her time to go. There's no making sense of it. It was painful and needlessly drawn out, just heartbreaking.

So I hope you can understand why I had to be away. All I can say is that there was a lot of comfort food shared with family over the past few weeks. I saved some for you…

Home Fries with Chestnuts
Printable Recipe

6 ounces chestnuts
3 tablespoons canola oil
2 large Russet potatoes, peeled and diced
½ yellow onion, diced
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Using a chestnut knife, cut an X in the cheek of each chestnut. Arrange the chestnuts in a single layer on a baking tray and bake for 25 to 35 minutes, or until tender. Let rest for about 5 minutes, or until just cool enough to handle. Peel and dice.

Heat a large, heavy sauté pan over medium heat until hot but not smoking. Add the oil and swirl to coat the bottom of the pan. Add the potatoes and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, tossing about 2 times, until crusty and brown in spots.* Reduce the heat to medium-low, add the onion, and sauté for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the onion is soft. Add the chestnuts and sauté for another 20 to 22 minutes, or until the potatoes are cooked through. Season to taste with salt and pepper, transfer to a bowl, and serve immediately.

Serves 2 to 4, depending on what else is for breakfast. Enjoy in the fall, when chestnuts are in season. A visit to the local chestnut orchard on a brisk day, after all the leaves have fallen from the trees, provided me a few moments of much-needed peace. Chestnuts are easiest to peel when they're hot.

*Searing the potatoes in this manner adds tons of flavor to the finished dish. For everything you ever wanted to know about searing, plus dozens of fabulous searing recipes, look for my book Seared to Perfection in stores now.

Chestnuts and Thanksgiving

Are chestnuts a part of your holiday celebrations?


For the first time, they'll be a part of ours. That's because on our last trip to the Hood River Valley the hubby and I discovered a lovely little chestnut orchard.


Bernardo, the orchard owner, was so welcoming and generous I became a fan instantly.


I don't know why we never realized the orchard was there before, and I don't know why I never cooked with chestnuts before, but I guess better late than never…


So I've been experimenting with different ways to roast chestnuts. I've tried open fire, I've tried the oven, and I've even tried the microwave (which until now had been relegated to melting butter and reheating leftovers), all with fine results. And with every batch, I've been noticing that the chestnuts are getting better with age—they've changed from crisp to fluffy and sweet over the two weeks since we got them. Apparently, keeping them in a paper bag in the crisper section of the refrigerator works wonders.

While chestnuts are popular in sweets and desserts, to my taste they're more suited to savories and for snacking. They make me think of sweetened Russet potatoes, so they feel like a natural addition to any number of Thanksgiving side dishes. Hence my combination of chestnuts, Brussels sprouts, and bacon.


Side note: For more Thanksgiving recipe inspiration, check out the cool mosaics on Pasplore. Somewhere in there you'll find a few of my Thanksgiving recipes.

May your Thanksgiving be happy, healthy, and delicious!

Pan-Roasted Brussels Sprouts with Chestnuts, Shallots & Bacon
Printable Recipe

6 ounces chestnuts
3 slices bacon, diced
4 tablespoons (½ stick) unsalted butter
1 pound Brussels sprouts, halved
6 small shallots, quartered
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper

Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Using a chestnut knife, cut an X in the cheek of each chestnut. Arrange the chestnuts in a single layer on a baking tray and bake for 25 to 35 minutes, or until tender. Let rest for about 5 minutes, or until just cool enough to handle. Peel and dice.

Meanwhile, heat a large, heavy sauté pan over medium-low heat until hot but not smoking. Add the bacon and fry, tossing frequently, for 7 to 8 minutes, or until rendered. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the bacon to a small bowl. Add the butter to the pan and heat until it melts, bubbles, and the foam subsides. Add the Brussels sprouts, shallots, and chestnuts and toss to coat with the butter. Season generously with salt and pepper. Transfer the pan to the oven and roast for 20 to 22 minutes, or until the Brussels sprouts are tender and golden brown. Toss in the bacon, transfer to a bowl, and serve immediately.

Serves 6. Enjoy in the fall, when both Brussels sprouts and chestnuts are in season. Chestnuts are easiest to peel when they're hot. For the best results, be sure not to overcrowd the pan.

Ono

It's Hawaiian for delicious. Isn't it a fun word?

Hubby and I just had our tenth anniversary, and we celebrated in ono style with a trip to Maui. During our short seven days there, we toured almost every part of the island and managed to consume more tropical fruit than we had had during the entirety our marriage.

In a macadamia nutshell, the food on Maui is pork, beef, and fresh fish—especially mahi-mahi and ahi tuna—with Asian flavors and lots of tropical fruit. Steamed rice and creamy but bland macaroni salad (possibly heavier on the mayo than the macaroni) seem to accompany every meal, including breakfast. A selection of noodle dishes appears on most menus. The fruity adult beverages are to die for. Oh, and Spam is ubiquitous, but we didn't feel the need to delve quite that deep into the culture.

Our first meal, at the local favorite Da Kitchen, was an enormous traditional Hawaiian "plate lunch" consisting of succulent and salty shredded kalua pig, pork lau lau, lomi-lomi salmon (more fun words!), brothy ginger-scented chicken long rice, and two scoops of rice.


We also tried a plate lunch with kalbi short ribs at Aloha Mixed Plate as we eavesdropped on the luau next door. By the way, I gather this sort of combination is referred to as a plate lunch even if it's eaten for dinner. We never did get around to tasting the poi, though we did see a number of taro ponds. As tasty as the plate lunches were, when you plan on spending the majority of your waking hours in a bathing suit, it seems prudent to partake in lighter fare…

And so, this was the first vacation the hubby and I actually spent more time on activities other than fooding.


We floated in the waves and snorkeled with the colorful fish and the graceful, curious sea turtles. We bird watched, and we were endlessly amused by the riot of birds in constant motion around the fragrant guava tree behind our hotel room. We explored the black sand beach.


And the surrounding cliffs, with their curious vegetation.


We drove the winding road through lush tropical jungle to Hana.


And marveled along the way at the beauty of the eucalyptus trees.


We pulled over to the side of the road to feel the texture of their rainbow bark.


To prove to ourselves they were for real.


We watched the expert surfers, wind surfers, and kite boarders from the beach (as we enjoyed an ahi poke picnic), but we thought the waves would be bigger.


We took in the views from above the clouds on the moon-like summit of Haleakala.


We daydreamed about the freedom of sailing the high seas.


We gazed at the sunset.


We gazed…


And we gazed…


And we gazed…


Still, being that we are who we are, we must seek out edible activities for our travels not to feel incomplete. Every farmers market—apparently a single roadside fruit stand constitutes a "farmers market" on Maui—warranted a visit, no matter how tiny or out of the way.


We picked up macadamia nuts still in the shell, yellow-skinned lilikoi—that's passion fruit and yet another fun-to-say Hawaiian word—for the bargain price of four for $1, mangoes sweeter than honey, and a juicy, just this side of cloying pineapple.


Three-bite, complexly flavored apple bananas were the norm.


In fact, I don't remember seeing a single "regular" banana while we were there. Coconuts were whacked open to order.


Cups of coconut water were free for the asking.


Addictive coconut chips, sold as coconut candy, were available in either sweet or spicy varieties at the quirky stand on the road to Hana.


The loaded coconut trees everywhere prompted my husband, with his ever inquisitive mind, to ask, "How many people die from coconut strikes each year?" There was also a small amount of foraging, as we passed wild guava and avocado trees in the jungle. Hubby wondered if they were growing wild or wildly growing. There was trespassing too as I tried to get a glimpse of the pineapple fields.


Apparently pineapple thieves are a big problem on Maui. Hubby yelled at me, insisting I obey the signs, but as you can see, I took my chances in order to watch the harvest.


One of the highlights of the trip was our visit to the isolated Ono Organic Farms. We were greeted by a lovely spread and the even lovelier news that it would be a private tour.


We did a tasting of all of the fruits that were in season, and we strolled the farm until a tropical deluge forced us back under the cover of the porch.


Between the farm itself and their roadside stand in Hana, we tasted fibrous mamey sapote, low acid pineapple, star fruit, star apple, white and strawberry guavas, both wild and sweet lilikoi, strawberry papaya, a new-to-me variety of juicy avocado, rambutan, longan, dragon fruit, pink and white pomelo, Apple banana (to our extreme disappointment, the Ice Cream bananas were not yet ripe), macadamia nuts, sour cucumber-shaped bilimbi, spicy Surinam cherries, peanut butter fruit, which tastes just like the name implies, and ripe coffee berries.


The guava was a revelation. We couldn't get enough of the lilikoi, but the star fruit was disappointing as I'd had better before.


I couldn't bring myself to like the papaya even though it was by far the best quality specimen I'd ever tasted.


Strangely, it smelled a lot like funky cheese to me.


On the tour, we saw many of the things we had experienced during the tasting and then some. We discovered that papayas grow in a very orderly columnar fashion and that, though they are easy to confuse from a distance, guava is a tree and lilikoi is a vine. Banana flowers and "hands" of bananas were quite sight.


Who knew sugar cane was so colorful?


We saw jackfruit (from which Juicy Fruit gum gets its flavor) as big as watermelons and softball-size breadfruit on the tree. If falling coconuts are a problem, imagine what a risk jackfruit and breadfruit strikes must be! We admired the broad, deeply veined leaves of a turmeric plant. Then our tour guide had us take a whiff of one particularly nondescript looking tree and guess what it was. I said cinnamon, and she exclaimed that I was the first ever to correctly identify it. I bet she says that to everyone because the aroma was unmistakable. We saw macadamia nuts and cashews growing and learned that macs must be dried in the sun before they can be extricated from their shells and cashews are poisonous unless heat-processed correctly. Most fascinating were the cacao pods, which mature from brown to pale blue-green to yellow and sprout directly from the trunk and branches of the tree.


Unfortunately I couldn't convince our tour guide to break into a cacao pod or even sell me one for less than $40—that's about $1 per seed, but we did get to try previously cleaned raw cacao seeds, which tasted remarkably like chocolate. It was fascinating, and if I ever find myself in Maui again, I'm going back to Ono.

In case you're wondering, the lighter fare that I spoke of we found at the small, out-of-the-way Star Noodle. The homemade ramen at this modern Asian-inspired restaurant hit the spot so well that we returned there for two more meals to sample the other offerings: tempura colossal prawns, steamed pork buns, sous vide rib-eye, roasted Brussels sprouts with bacon and kimchee puree, garlic noodles, malasadas, and the outrageously ono tropical fruit saketinis. The best part was that only locals and in-the-know tourists would ever find this place.

Also memorable and definitely worthy of mention were the guri guri, a frozen novelty in pineapple and strawberry flavors with a texture that's somewhere between that of sherbet and shaved ice, at Tasaka Guri Guri (70 E Kaahumanu Avenue, Kahului, 808-871-4513), the refreshing shaved ice with homemade fruit syrups—made right, not grainy and crunchy like a snow cone—at Ululani's Hawaiian Shave Ice, the truly ono tropical fruit sorbets at Ono Gelato, and the locally made furikake potato chips I picked up at TJ's Warehouse Outlet.

We returned home a little tanner, a little more relaxed, and a carved wood tiki salt and pepper shaker set heavier. And though we're suffering from tropical fruit withdrawal (going from four lilikoi to zero per day is a severe shock to the system), we are full of ono memories of our time in Maui and looking forward to the adventures the next ten years together will bring.

Sesame

It was a typical conversation—one about food and cooking of course—when Mother posed the question “What organism is a sesame anyway?” Hmmm, thought provoking indeed. Where do those little seeds that grace the top of so many bagels and burger buns come from? Could they originate from a tree, shrub, or grass? And while we’re on the subject, why do people always say “open sesame”? Hmmm…

But what’s really important about sesame seeds isn’t that they come from a plant that looks rather like a weed or that they were first domesticated in India, it’s that they’re tasty and delicious (especially toasted). The sesame crunch candy that I keep in a bowl on my dining table made me think of making cookies loaded with sesame seeds.


Sesame Cookies
Printable Recipe

1 ½ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup toasted sesame seeds
½ teaspoon fine sea salt
8 ounces (2 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
¾ cup sugar
1 large egg, at room temperature
1 teaspoon dark sesame oil

Whisk together the flour, sesame seeds, and salt in a medium bowl. In a mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, beat together the butter and sugar on medium until creamy. Add the egg and sesame oil and mix on low until blended. Add the dry ingredients and mix on low until the dough comes together, stopping the mixer once or twice to scrape down the sides of the bowl. Transfer the dough to a sheet of parchment paper and roll into a 2-inch log. Refrigerate for about 2 hours, or until firm.

Preheat the oven to 375˚F. Unwrap the dough and cut into 3/8-inch slices. Arrange the slices about an inch apart on parchment-lined baking trays. Bake for about 18 minutes, or until golden brown. Transfer cookies to a rack to cool.

Makes about 30 cookies. Cookies keep for several days in a tightly sealed container in a cool, dry place. The log of dough, or portions of it, may be frozen for up to 1 month tightly wrapped in plastic wrap. Perfect with a cup of green tea.

Peeling Tomatoes, Stone Fruit & More

Have you ever noticed that, while the flesh of tomatoes and stone fruit will soften, the skin seems to remain intact no matter how long it cooks? And that the leathery bits of skin can just about ruin whatever dish they’re in? Tomato sauce or peach pie with scraps of tough peel—yuck. But how do you peel tomatoes or stone fruit without ending up with bruised fruit and a big juicy mess? Knives and vegetable peelers are no help here.

Well, do you remember Blanch? It’s been a while since I introduced you. Blanching is the answer! Blanching fruits such as tomatoes, peaches, nectarines, plums, and apricots will loosen their skins and make peeling a breeze.

To peel tomatoes or stone fruit, bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. The larger the pot and the more water, the faster the water will return to a boil after the fruit is added, and the faster the skin will release. And the faster the skin releases, the more appealing the appearance, texture, and flavor of the fruit will be. Keep in mind that the goal is to loosen the skin but not cook the fruit. Add plenty of salt, enough to make the water taste slightly briny. Using a paring knife, cut a small X in the bottom of the fruit.


Add the fruit to the pot of boiling water and boil for 20 to 30 seconds.


The skin of the fruit will usually start to crack. Using a slotted spoon or wire skimmer, quickly transfer the fruit to a bowl of ice-cold water to stop the cooking process, this is known as shocking.


Once the fruit is cool, drain it thoroughly. Use the paring knife to remove the peel, starting at the X.


The skin will slip right off.


This technique can also be used to peel pearl onions, fava beans, and almonds, but it’s not necessary to score them with an X first. Blanch them for about a minute, then shock them in ice water. Use a paring knife to cut off the root end of pearl onions. Break open fava bean skins with your thumbnail. Then squeeze each pearl onion, fava bean, or almond between your thumb and forefinger, and it will pop right out of its skin.

If you’re peeling a large quantity of one of these foods, blanch it in batches.