ANTIPASTO PASTA OR KALE SALAD

Long story short: Here is a bunch of stuff I didn’t think I liked (Raw chickpeas! Pepperoncini! Artichokes!) in a big bowl with a lot of tasty salty briny things, all swimming in an amazing garlicky oregano dressing. I love it.

Long story slightly longer: My friend S brought a delicious pasta salad to one of our picnics earlier this summer, explaining that she’d adapted it from the Smitten Kitchen version of Nancy Silverton’s chopped salad from Mozza. Despite the presence of the aforementioned stuff I didn’t think I liked, I adored it and immediately wanted to re-create it for myself (and A, who was out of town and had thus missed out). I did, and we both loved it.

I have a surfeit of pasta recipes, though, plus I’m trying not to eat pasta every single week, so I also wanted to try this in straight-up salad form, but the traditional iceberg lettuce format of the original didn’t appeal to me. Considering this concoction is chock-full of items cured, pickled, and preserved, I thought it could use a little more veggie oomph, and kale seemed a natural fit. It plays well with Italian ingredients, its sturdiness stands up to the heavy dressing, and it has enough flavor of its own to avoid getting lost in the shuffle. I was right; this made an excellent salad—a truth that was tested when A had to fly to Indiana unexpectedly on the day I’d planned to make it, leaving me with all six servings to eat on my own. Sure, I was a bit weary of antipasto salad by the end of the week, but none went uneaten. It was really that good.

A few notes: The Smitten Kitchen recipe called for way, way too much salt considering all the processed ingredients bringing serious sodium of their own. I halved it and it was plenty. I also halved the salami and cheese quantities and still thought there was plenty of each. I’m not a huge provolone fan and had trouble finding any (except presliced sandwich cheese) at Trader Joe’s, so I used Pecorino Romano. For the pasta salad I cut it into matchsticks, but that made it too assertive, so I simply shredded it for the kale version and it was perfect. S had added a few pickled cherry peppers to her salad for a bit of heat, and I followed her lead. She also used artichokes, so I bought some for the very first time and dutifully added them in. I guess they bring another vegetable to the mix, but honestly, artichokes do absolutely nothing for me. They hardly taste like anything. I’ve tried them multiple times in many formats and still don’t understand why people seem to be so gaga for them. I’ll finish the jar, but I’m not sure I’ll bother buying any more in the future. Adding arugula to the pasta version of the salad was also S’s idea, and it brings a nice, fresh, green element to what—let’s face it—is not exactly the healthiest salad on the spectrum. It is, however, a substantial, satisfying, protein-rich, all-seasons crowd-pleasing main dish I’ll be making again and again, in both forms.

4 cloves garlic
1 generous tablespoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons lemon juice
¼ cup red wine vinegar
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1 small red onion, peeled and sliced into paper-thin rings
4 ounces Pecorino Romano cheese, coarsely shredded
4-6 ounces sliced salami, cut into ¼-inch ribbons
4 medium or 8 small pickled pepperoncini, sliced into rings
2-4 pickled cherry peppers, diced (optional)
4-6 jarred artichoke hearts, diced (optional)
1 pint cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered
For the pasta salad:
12 ounces rotini, cooked, drained and rinsed in cold water
6 generous handfuls arugula
For the kale salad:
1 very large or 2 small bunches Tuscan kale, ribs removed, leaves thinly sliced

1. To make the dressing, roughly chop the garlic and then add the oregano, salt and up to ½ teaspoon ground pepper. Chop the mixture together and use the side of a knife or a mortar and pestle to make a grainy herb paste. Transfer the paste to a small bowl, then add the lemon juice and vinegar. Mix with a fork, allowing the salt to dissolve, then add the oil and whisk until well combined. The dressing should be thick with garlic and oregano.
2. For the pasta salad: Combine the cooled pasta, chickpeas, red onion, cheese, salami, pepperoncini, cherry peppers and artichokes (if using), and cherry tomatoes in a large bowl. Add about half the dressing, toss well, and then add remaining dressing to taste (I used all of it). Adjust seasonings to taste. Fold in the arugula immediately before serving.
3. For the kale salad: Combine the shredded kale with about half the dressing in a large bowl. Toss with your hands, massaging the kale until it becomes tender. Let sit for at least 15 minutes while you prepare the other ingredients. Add the chickpeas, red onion, cheese, salami, pepperoncini, cherry peppers and artichokes (if using), and cherry tomatoes to the bowl. Toss well and add remaining dressing to taste (I didn’t quite use all of it). Adjust seasonings to taste.

Serves: 6-8
Time: 30-40 minutes
Leftover potential: Great. For the pasta salad, store the arugula separately and add one generous handful to each serving directly before you eat it.

SWEET SRIRACHA-GLAZED PORK SKEWERS

While I mainly plan my menus around which vegetables I’m hungry for, A still thinks a meal isn’t really complete without some sort of meaty component, so I’m always on the lookout for easy carnivore-friendly preparations that I can make as a side dish to a big pile of vegetables. And having accumulated an overabundance of chicken recipes, I’m working to expand my horizons into other types of meat. Since my pork repertoire centers mostly on bacon, prosciutto, sausage and ground pork, tenderloin is a good area for new exploration, especially since it’s fairly healthy, inexpensive, versatile, and not hard to prepare.

All these criteria neatly converged in this super-simple recipe—seriously, we’re talking just five ingredients—from Cook’s Illustrated, which I stumbled upon via Pink Parsley. Bite-sized chunks of grilled pork in a sweet-spicy-salty glaze, with prep so quick and low-maintenance that I can focus my efforts on making a hearty salad or other veg-centric dish to serve alongside? Definitely a recipe for mealtime harmony.

The first time I made these, I used my George Foreman grill, and consequently spent the next week trying to scrape burnt sugary residue off the cooking surface. Then I remembered seeing a recipe for oven-broiled pork kebabs over at Budget Bytes, so I swiped the technique and it worked like a charm. You get a decent amount of char in a relatively short period of time, which means it might even be worth turning on the oven in the height of a summer heat wave. But if you prefer to fire up the grill, just follow the original method instead. Either way, you’ll get a big payoff for very little effort.

1½ pounds pork tenderloin, trimmed and cut into 1-inch chunks
1 teaspoon kosher salt
3 tablespoons packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons Sriracha sauce
1 teaspoon cornstarch

1. If using wooden or bamboo skewers, soak 4 of them in water for at least 30 minutes to help prevent burning under the broiler.
2. Toss the pork and salt together in a large mixing bowl and let sit at room temperature for 20 minutes.
3. Meanwhile, whisk together the brown sugar, Sriracha sauce, and cornstarch. Set aside 2 tablespoons of the mixture and add the rest to the pork, mixing well with a silicone spatula.
4. Thread the meat onto the skewers. Arrange the skewers on a broiler pan, or on a wire rack atop a foil-lined sheet pan.
5. Adjust the oven rack so that the top of the skewers will be 5-6 inches from the broiler. Preheat the broiler for at least 5 minutes.
6. Place the skewers under the broiler and cook for 5 minutes, or just until the edges begin to brown. Remove from oven, rotate the skewers, and brush with half the reserved glaze. Return to the oven for an additional 5 minutes. Remove from oven, rotate again, brush with the remaining glaze, and broil 5 more minutes maximum, until evenly browned on all sides. (Be careful not to overcook!)
7. Transfer the skewers to a serving platter, tent loosely with aluminum foil, and let rest for 5 minutes before serving.

Serves: 4
Time: 50 minutes
Leftover potential: OK.

SWEDISH MEATBALLS WITH PICKLED CUCUMBER AND RADISH

I’m well versed in lefse, rosettes, spritz and krumkake, but somehow managed to live 27 years in Minnesota minus any memorable encounters with Swedish meatballs, which I attribute to (a) youthful pickiness, (b) a generally noncarnivorous nature, and (c) the fact that they didn’t open an IKEA in the Twin Cities until after I moved away. In exile from my Midwestern homeland, my interest in things Scandinavian has grown exponentially, and one of my favorite ways to eat meat now is in ball form (well-seasoned, bite-sized tidbits beat big boring slabs any day), so it seemed appropriate to finally get into Swedish meatballs.

I bookmarked a number of recipes over the years, but never felt inspired to take the plunge (who really needs more meat and cream in their lives?) until I saw a photo of this Jet and Indigo recipe somewhere online and fell in love with the idea of taking things to the Nordic next level with a gorgeously colorful topping of pickled vegetables.

I went with America’s Test Kitchen (via Elly Says Opa) for the meatballs themselves, and they’re the best I’ve ever made. I don’t quite know what does it (the mixture of beef and pork? the grated onion, which at least on my crappy grater turns into a watery, gelatinous mess that seems like it’s going to make everything sodden but is in fact the perfect way to spread oniony goodness through every cell of the meatball?), but dang, they’re tender and delicious. I found the inclusion of sugar a bit odd, especially in the sauce, and the first time I made this, everything just seemed off-puttingly sweet, especially when combined with the pickled veggies (which tend toward the sweet side as well). I investigated a number of other Swedish meatball recipes and found a few that had sugar in the meat but none that also used it in the sauce, so on the second go-round I omitted it and everything was perfect. It’s possible the sugar works better with heavy cream in the sauce—the first time I used creme fraiche because I happened to have some on hand, and the second time I opted for sour cream, which seemed more traditional. I also threw in a big handful of parsley, just to freshen things up, along with a ton of dill in the pickles. I hate that the recipe calls for just “1 slice sandwich bread,” which seems a lot vaguer than measuring the bread in ounces (I tend to keep odds and ends of various breads in the freezer for making crumbs, but rarely “sandwich bread” per se), but hilariously, on my second try it ended up forcing me to double down on Scandinavianness when it turned out that all I had on hand was marble rye. I can’t say I could taste the caraway in the finished meatballs, but it certainly didn’t hurt.

I know it might seem weird (it certainly did to me; kudos to A for encouraging me to forge ahead) to take a perfectly normal serving of meatballs in a nice gravy and then dump some cold, sweet-and-sour radishes and cucumbers all over it, but I’m telling you, that’s what takes this dish from solid to WOWZA. The brine cuts the richness of the meat and cream, and the cool crunch and beautiful pink and green hues are the perfect foil for the velvety beigeness below. If you simply can’t bring yourself to mix them, you can serve the pickles as a sort of side salad and alternate bites between the two dishes, but trust me on this one: PICKLES ON TOP 4 LYFE.

High-fives were exchanged over the dinner table during this meal (in a very brief pause from shoveling the food into our mouths; I’m a too-fast eater to begin with and yet still embarrassed by how extra quickly I devoured these meatballs every time). I’m ridiculously pleased with it, not only because I managed to merge two recipes and totally nail it (on the second attempt anyway), but also because, like many of the recipes I’ve been trying lately, it represents something that would have repulsed (or at least failed to interest) my younger self. It’s been fun to have the chance to discover foods gradually in my own time instead of just being a jaded sushi eater by age 8, but still, my younger self was totally missing out! I’ll just have to eat many more Swedish meatballs this year to make up for it.

Pickles:
¼ cup rice vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar
½ teaspoon salt
7 ounces radishes, thinly sliced
2-3 small Persian cucumbers, thinly sliced
About 2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill

Meatballs:
1 large egg
¼ cup heavy cream (or half-and-half or milk)
1 slice sandwich bread, crusts removed, torn into ½-inch pieces
1 small onion, grated on the large holes of a box grater
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
¼ teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
½ pound ground pork
½ pound ground beef
1 tablespoon olive oil

Sauce:
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour
½ cup chicken broth
¾ cup beef broth
¾ cup sour cream or heavy cream
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1 large handful fresh parsley, minced

For serving:
8 ounces egg noodles, cooked and drained

1. To make the pickles, combine the rice vinegar, sugar, and salt in a medium bowl, and mix well until the sugar and salt are dissolved. Add the cucumber and radish to the bowl, then refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, mixing occasionally. When ready to serve, stir in the dill.
2. To make the meatballs, whisk the egg and the cream (or half-and-half or milk) together in a large bowl. Add the bread and stir to combine. Let sit for 5 minutes or so.
3. Add the remaining meatball ingredients, except for the oil, and mix together lightly with your hands or two forks, just until combined. Form into about 25 to 30 1-inch meatballs.
4. Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add half the meatballs in a single layer. Cook for a few minutes per side, until browned all over but still slightly underdone. Transfer to a paper-towel lined plate. Repeat with the rest of the meatballs.
5. To make the sauce, return the empty skillet to medium heat and melt the butter. Add the flour and whisk constantly until it’s light brown. Whisk in the chicken and beef broth, and bring to a simmer. Continue to simmer until the sauce is reduced to about 1 cup, which will take approximately 5 minutes. Stir in the cream and return to a simmer. Add the meatballs and simmer for about 5 minutes to warm them through and finish cooking. Add the lemon juice and parsley, and season the sauce to taste with salt and pepper. Serve over egg noodles and top with pickles.

Serves: 4
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Good; store pickles separately.

THAI PORK TENDERLOIN SALAD

I’m going to try not to dwell on how far behind I am. Recapping all this summer’s successful recipes is apparently going to be an impossible task, so let’s skip ahead to fall—but first, I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you about the year’s top salad, as far as our household is concerned. Coincidentally, it’s the second recipe in a row I’ve posted from the New York Times, which I normally don’t follow foodwise, but considering it’s given me double slam dunks, I may need to remedy that.

This salad shares some DNA with our fave peanut-lime chicken rice noodle salad, including, unfortunately, being something of a pain in the ass to put together. I’m not going to lie: Assembling the marinade is pretty time-consuming. I’ve made recipes with longer lists of ingredients and more steps, but somehow this one contains just the right combination of chopping and mincing and juicing and zesting to add up to a massive time suck. I recommend doing it the night before, so the pork can marinate for 24 hours, but make sure you’ve got something quick and easy planned for dinner that evening, because this marinade is a full-time kitchen job in itself.

The good news is that everything else about this recipe is A+. In a genius move, some of that laborious marinade will be reserved (separate from the raw pork, of course) to serve as your dressing as well. The resulting salad is flavorful, refreshingly crunchy, chock-full of a rainbow of vegetables, and enjoyable year-round (perfect for bridging the awkward, sweltering gap that lies between summer and actual fall in SoCal, and which I complain about annually). It’s a champion leftover generator in both quantity and quality—with sturdy cabbage as the base, you can store it all mixed together in grab-and-go servings (I hate dragging a million different little containers to work for meals that can’t be assembled until just before eating). It has pork, which I’m getting more and more fond of (a nice break from the 74 chicken recipes I’ve accumulated over the years), and yields the most perfectly cooked tenderloin I’ve ever managed to make, with little to no effort. Also, cashews and toasted coconut will never fail to delight me.

A few other notes:

• The original recipe was titled “Spicy Thai Pork Tenderloin Salad,” but I didn’t detect much heat either time I made this. I used just one jalapeno, so next time I might try two, or the Thai bird peppers instead.
• I couldn’t fit 8 cups of sliced cabbage in my largest mixing bowl, so I had to scale back to 6, which turns out to be plenty for six generous main-dish servings.
• I also cut back on the herbs. I’m usually the one doubling the cilantro in recipes, but 4 cups of herbs to 8 cups (or 6 in my case) of cabbage seemed a bit excessive, especially when that included a full 1½ cups of mint, which can be so overpowering.

Marinade/dressing:
1½ pounds boneless pork tenderloin
⅔ cup thinly sliced shallots (about 4 shallots)
⅔ cup chopped cilantro leaves and tender stems
5 tablespoons light brown sugar
6 garlic cloves, minced
5 tablespoons soy sauce
5 tablespoons peanut or grapeseed oil (I just used olive oil)
Juice and zest of 4 limes
3-inch piece peeled ginger root, minced
2 tablespoons Asian fish sauce
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 to 2 Thai bird, serrano or jalapeño chile peppers, seeded and minced

Salad:
6-8 cups Napa or regular cabbage, thinly sliced
5 scallions, trimmed and thinly sliced
2 small Kirby or Persian cucumbers, thinly sliced
1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced
1 cup cilantro leaves
¾ cup mint leaves
1 cup basil leaves
1¼ cups roasted cashews or peanuts, toasted and chopped
¼ cup unsweetened coconut chips or large flakes, toasted

1. Pat pork dry with paper towel. In a bowl, combine shallot, cilantro, 2 tablespoons sugar, garlic, soy sauce, oil, lime zest and juice, ginger, fish sauce, salt and chile. Pour a quarter of the mixture into a blender, add remaining sugar and purée until a smooth, loose paste forms. Place tenderloin in a large bowl and spread the paste all over pork. Marinate at room temperature for 2 hours, or cover and refrigerate up to 24 hours; turn the tenderloin occasionally.
2. Save the remaining, unblended mixture to use as dressing (store, covered, in the refrigerator).
3. When ready to cook the pork, preheat the broiler and arrange the oven rack at least 4 inches from the heat. Place the pork on a wire rack and place the rack on a foil-lined baking sheet. Broil pork, turning occasionally, until well browned and meat reaches an internal temperature of 145 degrees, 4 to 10 minutes per side depending upon the heat of your broiler. Keep an eye on it so it doesn’t overcook. (You can grill the pork instead if you prefer.) Let meat rest while you prepare the salad.
4. In a large bowl, combine the salad ingredients, reserving the herbs, cashews and coconut. Whisk the dressing and use just enough to dress the salad, tossing to combine. Let sit for a few minutes for the flavors to meld, then right before serving, add herbs and toss again.
5. To serve, slice the pork. Arrange salad on a platter and top with sliced pork. Scatter cashews and coconut on top, and drizzle with a little more of the remaining dressing, to taste.

Serves: 6-8
Time: 2 hours, plus 2 to 24 hours of marinating
Leftover potential: Great. The mixed and dressed salad will stay relatively intact in the refrigerator for at least three to four days.

PEACH AND ARUGULA SALAD WITH CRISPY PROSCIUTTO

 September still feels like summer here in L.A., but I know the rest of the country will be moving on to apples and pumpkins soon, so I’m going to make a push to clear my backlog of summer recipes ASAP, and save you from having to read about strawberries and stone fruit while you’re busy raking leaves and building bonfires.

I missed the boat on posting this one last year, which is a little silly because it’s so simple it barely needs writing down at all, but it’s well worth noting as an easy, colorful, produce-showcasing, super-summery side to have in your back pocket. The basic recipe, which I believe I found by simply Googling peach-arugula-prosciutto salads on a whim one day, is from Papawow. I used feta instead of goat cheese, varied the quantities slightly, and crisped my prosciutto on the stovetop because it was too damn hot to turn on the oven. The result is more than the sum of its few parts—a perfect blend of sweet, peppery, tart, and salty notes that’s almost enough to make me wish summer would stick around even longer.

2 to 4 slices of prosciutto
Juice from 1 lemon
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
¼ teaspoon sugar
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste
4 to 5 ounces arugula leaves
1 or 2 ripe peaches, sliced
2 to 4 ounces feta cheese, crumbled

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees, lay prosciutto slices on a parchment-lined sheet pan, and bake until crisp, about 8-12 minutes. (If you prefer, you can crisp the prosciutto slices on the stovetop instead, in a very lightly oiled skillet over medium heat.) Let cool, then crumble into small pieces.
2. In a small bowl, whisk together lemon juice, balsamic vinegar, mustard, sugar, and salt and pepper, then slowly stream in olive oil, whisking until dressing is well combined.
3. In a large bowl, lightly toss the arugula leaves with dressing, then top with peaches, feta, and crispy prosciutto.

Serves: 4
Time: 20 minutes
Leftover potential: Not great, unless you store all the components separately. The dressing will keep in a jar in the fridge for the better part of a week, and the salad is so easy to assemble you may as well just make as much as you need and put together another batch later if you have extra ingredients.

BAKED EGG ROLLS

Egg rolls are one of A’s favorite foods (after tacos), but I never considered making them at home because I’m afraid of deep-frying. It didn’t occur to me that egg rolls could be baked until I saw this recipe at Budget Bytes. I did think egg rolls that weren’t fried and didn’t contain meat might be a bridge too far for A, so following a lead in the comments, I swapped out the veggie filling for one that included pork. This took a little manipulating, since the pork version was intended for potstickers and was thus uncooked, so I ended up making a mashup of the two different recipes. Unfortunately, I didn’t take good notes, and enough time elapsed before I made these again that I didn’t remember what I’d done before and had to figure it out all over again. Luckily, the filling is forgiving.

You should know that I’m cabbage-averse, although I’m slowly warming to the stuff. I was a little put off by the thought of using a whole head, so the first time around I just bought a bag of pre-shredded cabbage from Trader Joe’s. That’s probably why I only ended up with enough filling to stuff 12 of my 20 egg roll wrappers, although this didn’t occur to me at the time. On my second attempt I increased the pork to ¾ pound, upped the carrot and green onions, and used a whole head of cabbage. (Luckily, Budget Bytes has helpful slicing instructions with photos, since I hadn’t tried to take on a head of cabbage since my CSA gave me one in 2007.) It turns out there’s a lot more cabbage in a head than in a bag! I filled 20 egg roll wrappers generously and still had a little filling left over. So maybe I should have stuck with just ½ pound pork? (A would say no.) In both iterations, the filling tasted great, which is the important thing. I even liked the cabbage.

Are baked egg rolls the same as fried ones? They aren’t going to fool anyone into thinking they’re takeout; the texture is crunchier, chewier, a bit drier (definitely have your favorite dipping sauce on hand; I love Trader Joe’s gyoza sauce, which is basically soy sauce, vinegar and sesame oil with some seasonings, but sweet chili sauce or spicy mustard are also good options). I actually think I might prefer the baked version, though. Four or five plus a side dish (see my next post for that) adds up to a reasonable meal with a decent serving of fresh veggies that doesn’t feel too heavy, and they even make passable leftovers. (I think if you reheated them in the oven or toaster oven they’d regain their crispness and be near-new again, but even zapped in the microwave and thus a bit softer, they were just as tasty.)

These may be a bit more complicated than tacos, but they still weren’t too hard for a weeknight and will definitely be a regular menu feature.

½-¾ pound ground pork
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1-inch segment fresh ginger, peeled and grated or minced
1 clove garlic, minced
2 green onions, sliced
1 medium carrot, shredded
1 small head green cabbage, cored and thinly shredded
½ teaspoon salt
¼ cup soy sauce
1 teaspoon sesame oil
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 package of 20 egg roll wrappers
Nonstick spray (or additional vegetable oil)

1. Heat a large skillet or wok over medium heat. Add the pork and brown, breaking up with a spoon, until cooked through. Remove with a slotted spoon and drain on a paper-towel lined plate, leaving the skillet on the burner.

2. Add 1-2 tablespoons vegetable oil to the skillet. Add the green onion, garlic, and ginger and sauté until slightly softened (1-2 minutes). Add the carrot, sauté for one minute more, and then add the cabbage and ½ teaspoon salt. Continue to cook and stir until the cabbage has reduced in volume by half.

3. Return the pork to the skillet, then add the soy sauce and cook until slightly thickened. Drizzle the sesame oil on top and stir in. Turn the heat off and add a few grindings of pepper. Give the mixture a taste and adjust the seasonings to your liking. Let the mixture cool slightly.

4. Begin to fill and roll the egg rolls. Place one wrapper at a time on a clean surface and place about ¼-1/3 cup of the pork mixture just off center, close to one of the corners on the square. Roll the corner up and over the filling, fold each side in, and then roll the rest of the way up. Keep a small bowl of water near by and use it as “glue” to hold the corners of the egg roll wrapper in place.

5. Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Prepare a baking sheet by covering with foil. Place the egg rolls on the baking sheet and coat with nonstick spray or brush with vegetable oil. Roll them over and spray/brush the other side with oil. Bake for about 20 minutes or until golden brown and crispy. Turn the egg rolls over halfway through cooking and rotate your baking sheet if you have hot spots in your oven.

Serves: 4-5 as a main dish, more as an appetizer
Time: 1 hour 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Surprisingly OK. Reheat in the oven or toaster oven for best results, but microwave is fine if you don’t mind a softer texture. You can also freeze the unbaked egg rolls and just pop them into the oven without thawing, although the texture may not be as good as with the freshly made ones.

PORK SCHNITZEL WITH BUTTERMILK RANCH SAUCE

Schnitzel, schnitzel, schnitzel: Not only is it fun to say, but it’s also hard to go wrong with thin cutlets of breaded and fried meat. Pounding them flat with a mallet is both good stress relief and a way to ensure quick cooking and maximum crispy surface area. Although I’ve got several chicken recipes that use this technique, my growing fondness for pork made this recipe catch my eye in a recent issue of Cooking Light. There’s nothing especially revolutionary here, but pork chops are still an undiscovered country for me, and an easy weeknight dinner of them seemed like it wouldn’t go amiss, especially with the added enticement of buttermilk ranch sauce.

The verdict? Would make again, although the sauce needed a little enhancement. Cooking Light, of course, calls for fat-free sour cream, which I dutifully obeyed, but next time I’ll just spring for the real stuff. With only 1 tablespoon per serving, I don’t think it’ll ruin my health. If you want to go lighter, 2% or nonfat Greek yogurt might be a better choice. As written, the sauce didn’t taste as ranchlike as the recipe title in the magazine led me to suspect, so I took a cue from my ranch dressing recipe and added a bit of minced garlic and parsley, which perked it up. (I almost wonder if next time I should just make the ranch dressing instead?) Despite my fears of blandness, the sauce tasted great with the pork, and we both enjoyed this meal. I’m afraid I can’t remember what I served on the side (roasted broccoli or green beans, or maybe a kale salad), but any green vegetable will do.

¼ cup sour cream
1 tablespoon chopped fresh dill
2 tablespoons low-fat buttermilk
Kosher salt to taste
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
1 small garlic clove, minced (optional)
¼ cup milk
1 large egg, lightly beaten
¾ cup dry breadcrumbs (I used panko)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
½ teaspoon garlic powder
4 4-ounce boneless center-cut loin pork chops, trimmed and
pounded to 1/8-inch thickness
2 tablespoons olive oil

1. In a small bowl, combine sour cream, dill, buttermilk, 1/8 teaspoon salt, ¼ teaspoon pepper, and minced garlic if desired; set aside.

2. Whisk together milk and egg in a shallow dish. In a second shallow dish, combine breadcrumbs, parsley, garlic powder, and ½ teaspoon pepper. Dip pork in milk mixture; sprinkle with salt. Dredge pork in breadcrumb mixture.

3. Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add 1 tablespoon oil to pan; swirl to coat. Place two pork chops in pan. Cook 3 minutes on each side or until done. Repeat procedure with remaining 1 tablespoon olive oil and remaining two pork chops. Serve with sauce.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: OK; breadcrumb coating will get soggy, but the flavor is still good.

CARNITAS

Hey, I made carnitas! And it was super easy! And one of the best meals I cooked in 2013! I can’t stop using exclamation points!
Buying a pork shoulder and slowly braising it is one of those food-bloggy things I never seemed to get around to doing. I grew up thinking I didn’t like pork (oh, the dry pork chops of my childhood), so long after I knew how to do all kinds of things with chicken, I had never even tried cooking a tenderloin. But my enjoyment of pork is steadily growing, and carnitas are a particular favorite, so when I saw this recipe at Dinner With Julie my heart skipped a beat. It sounded doable—put meat and liquid in a pot and throw it in the oven for a few hours. The hardest part would be obtaining a pork shoulder, and that didn’t turn out to be difficult at all (the meat counter at Whole Foods has pretty much everything).

Cooking pork in milk might sound weird, but I’ve seen similar recipes before (Jamie Oliver’s chicken in milk is getting rave reviews, for instance) and knew that it adds sweetness and aids caramelization. I was all set to go until I read the comments on the post and someone mentioned the carnitas recipe at Smitten Kitchen, which turns out to be from the Homesick Texan, an authority if ever there was one. Those two sources have never steered me wrong, so I considered switching recipes, but Julie’s sounded easier and I liked that I could do it in the oven instead of on the stovetop. I did worry it would be bland, so I swiped the garlic, cumin, and generous salt quantity from the SK/HT version, and boy was that an excellent decision; the garlic smelled particularly amazing during the nearly 4 hours this was simmering in my oven on a Sunday afternoon.

Needless to say, the result was incredible: a little sweet, a little tangy, mostly porky; crisp-browned in a few places and meltingly tender (and yes, just the right amount of fatty) everywhere else. As I texted A the next day while eating leftovers, “Hot damn these carnitas are delicious.” I really couldn’t believe I had made them, even though it was so ridiculously easy. The flavor was delicate but didn’t need much accompaniment—just a few tortillas and guacamole did the job for me, although of course you can add any taco-type toppings you see fit. It makes a ton of food but you’ll have no trouble finding uses for the leftovers—in salads, on pizza, tossed in BBQ sauce for a pulled-pork sandwich, and if all else fails, just freeze it. We devoured almost all of ours in taco form, but I threw the last scraps into a Southwest Scramble and it was excellent.

2-3 pounds boneless pork shoulder (butt) or boneless country pork ribs
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large orange, washed and quartered
4 large cloves garlic, peeled and crushed
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon kosher salt, plus extra to taste
1 cup milk (original recipe says whole, but I used 2% and it was fine)
Black pepper to taste

1. Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

2. Heat the oil in a heavy skillet on the stovetop over medium-high heat. Cut the meat into a few chunks and brown each piece on all sides, then transfer them to a Dutch oven or other heavy lidded baking dish. Squeeze the orange wedges over the meat and toss in the rinds alongside; add the garlic, cumin, and salt. Pour in the milk, then add enough water to almost cover the meat. Sprinkle with pepper, cover with a tight-fitting lid and bake for 3 hours, until the meat is very tender.

3. Break or pull the meat apart into smaller pieces, remove and discard the orange rind, and turn the oven up to 375 degrees. Roast the meat uncovered for 20-30 minutes, until most of the liquid has evaporated and the meat is crisp and brown on the edges. (If there still seems like there’s a lot of fat/liquid in the pot, you can just drain it off and discard it before eating.)

4. Serve the pork on warm corn or flour tortillas with the toppings of your choice, such as salsa, guacamole or diced avocado, finely chopped onion or scallions, cilantro, and a squeeze of lime.

Serves: At least 8
Time: 4 hours
Leftover potential: Awesome; versatile and freezes well.

CHICKEN WITH PROSCIUTTO, FONTINA, AND ARUGULA

I hope I don’t have to say much to convince you (unless you’re vegan) that crispy breaded chicken topped with ham, cheese, and mustardy, vinegary greens is a Good Thing. This is just the type of straightforward but not dumbed-down weeknight recipe I’m always on the lookout for, and as soon as I came across it at Elly Says Opa, I knew it would be a slam-dunk with both me (quick, easy, vegetable included) and A (two kinds of meat in one dish = score). The pan-fried chicken, creamy cheese, and salty pork veer toward luxurious comfort, and but the fresh, peppery arugula reins it back in. It’s basically a meal in itself, main dish and salad rolled into one, although some roasted potatoes on the side definitely wouldn’t hurt anything.

Apparently the original recipe called for Brie, which I do love, but I second this adaptation’s substitution of Fontina, an equally good melter, less unctuous and with a nice nutty flavor that actually has a bit more character than Brie. I made no real changes except that I’m a bit more generous with the arugula (at least on my own servings…why not fill the plate?) and a bit stingier with the panko. The first time I made th

is, I dutifully filled my shallow bowl with 1 cup panko, breaded my chicken, and still had half of it left, now contaminated with raw chicken juice, that I had to throw away. Now I start with 1 cup panko in the bowl and add more as needed midway through the breading process if the level dips too low.

Both A and I thought that it might make this even better if the prosciutto could be warmed somehow. Next time I might try either crisping it up briefly in a separate dry pan before placing it atop the chicken, or adding it right after the cheese and then moving the whole shebang (in my cast-iron skillet) to the oven for a brief stint under the broiler, which would cook the prosciutto and melt the cheese in one fell swoop (but possibly dry out the chicken?). I’ll keep you posted, but don’t wait that long to make this—no matter what, it’s a keeper.

1½ tablespoons red wine vinegar
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Salt and pepper to taste
6 ounces baby arugula
1 cup flour
2 eggs, beaten
1-2 cups panko breadcrumbs (start with 1 and add more as needed)
4 chicken breasts (4-5 ounces apiece), pounded to ¼-inch thickness
2 tablespoons butter
4 ounces Fontina cheese, thinly sliced
8 thin slices prosciutto

1. Whisk the vinegar, mustard, and salt and pepper to taste together in a large bowl. Slowly add 2 tablespoons olive oil while whisking, and mix until emulsified.

2. Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat and then add the butter and remaining 1 tablespoon oil. While the pan is heating, place the flour, eggs, and panko in three separate shallow bowls. Pat the chicken dry with a paper towel and season with salt and pepper on each side.

3. Once the butter is melted and sizzling in the pan, dredge a piece of chicken in the flour, shaking off the excess. Dip into the egg, letting excess drip off, and then dredge both sides in the panko, being sure to coat the chicken completely. Add to the pan and repeat with remaining chicken.

4. Saute chicken until golden brown on one side and then flip and saute until browned and cooked through. During the last minute, place the Fontina on top of the chicken so it begins to melt.

5. Add the arugula to the bowl with the salad dressing and toss to coat. Plate the chicken and top each piece with two slices of prosciutto and one-fourth of the arugula salad.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: Decent; for leftover servings, store the arugula, dressing and chicken separately, assembling only when ready to eat.

ROASTED CAULIFLOWER SOUP

I have long professed myself a disliker of cauliflower. I always thought of it as having a cabbagey taste and smell (I love that Mark Twain called it “cabbage with a college education”), and overall it just seemed like a more depressing version of broccoli--which does share that cabbage-like whiff, but at least has a lovely green color and flavor going for it. But deep down, I knew I wasn’t giving it a fair shake. Most of my encounters with cauliflower were raw, as a crudite surrounding a bowl of dip on a party platter, or floating around in a salad. I heard that, as with many difficult vegetables, roasting would transform cauliflower into something wonderful, but I was never brave enough to give it a shot.

A few years ago, A’s brother served us cauliflower soup as a first course at Thanksgiving dinner, and while I was suspicious, it tasted pretty good, not cabbagey at all. So when I spotted this cauliflower soup recipe in Cooking Light, I figured it would be the perfect way to bring cauliflower into my kitchen for the first time, since it featured both roasting to enhance the flavor and pureeing to obliterate the texture, plus a topping of prosciutto that I knew would entice A. And I was not wrong. I liked this soup, and A really liked it, several times specifically mentioning how good it was, and even willingly eating a leftover portion the next day, a rare compliment where soup is concerned. The soup itself is silky and subtle, with a delicate nutty flavor, and the ham-breadcrumb-almond-parsley topping adds interesting flavors, textures, and colors. It’s definitely a keeper; I made it basically as written and wouldn’t change a thing.

With this as my gateway drug, the next step is for me to try unpureed roasted cauliflower. If that’s a success and I decide to admit I don’t hate cauliflower anymore, then the list of vegetables I think I don’t like is growing pretty darn short. Which means that if I want any more challenges like this, getting to know Brussels sprouts is probably in my future.

8 cups cauliflower florets (about 1 large head or 2 medium)
2 teaspoons olive oil
½ teaspoon kosher salt, divided
Cooking spray or olive oil
4 thin slices prosciutto or other cured ham, chopped (about 2 ounces)
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, divided
¾ cup chopped yellow onion
4 garlic cloves, chopped
4 cups unsalted chicken stock
1 cup water
½ cup half-and-half
1 ounce French bread baguette, torn into coarse crumbs (about ¼ cup)
¼ cup chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley
¼ cup sliced almonds, toasted

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. Place cauliflower in a large bowl, drizzle with oil, sprinkle with ¼ teaspoon salt, and toss to coat. Arrange mixture in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet coated with cooking spray, a small amount of oil, or parchment. Roast for 40 minutes or until tender and browned, stirring once after 30 minutes.

3. Heat a large Dutch oven over medium heat. Coat pan with cooking spray or a small amount of olive oil. Add prosciutto and cook 3 minutes or until crisp. Remove and drain on paper towels. Melt 1½ teaspoons butter in pan. Add onion and garlic; sauté 5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add cauliflower, stock, and 1 cup water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and stir in half-and-half. Place half of cauliflower mixture in a blender, and puree until smooth, then pour pureed soup into a bowl and repeat with remaining cauliflower mixture. (Alternatively, you can just puree the soup in the pan with an immersion blender.) Stir in remaining ¼ teaspoon salt.

4. Melt remaining 1½ teaspoons butter in a small skillet over medium heat and swirl to coat the bottom of the skillet. Add breadcrumbs and sauté 5 minutes or until golden, stirring frequently. Remove from heat. Combine ham, breadcrumbs, parsley, and toasted almonds. Ladle soup into each of four bowls, and top each serving with a quarter of the toasted breadcrumb mixture.

Serves: 4
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: Great; I stored the toasted-breadcrumb topping mixture for the leftover portions separately from the soup in an attempt to keep it from getting too soggy, but I’m not sure how much of a difference that really made.

PORK MEATBALL BANH MI

This recipe (from Bon Appetit via Dinner With Julie) had been sitting in my Delicious bookmarks for nearly a year, intimidating me. I love banh mi and stalk the Phamish truck (now sadly on hiatus or possibly defunct, I guess?) to get them whenever possible, but making them at home seemed like a huge undertaking. Also, I am secretly afraid of fish sauce. But finally, the hot September weather wore me down until the cool crunchiness of cucumbers, cilantro, and pickled carrots seemed like the only palatable foods in the world.

I’ll cut right to the chase and say I liked these sandwiches but didn’t love them. I used a new brand of mayo (Trader Joe’s ) and it imparted an off taste; I should really have made my own, but that seemed like overkill for an already-complex meal. And if time were no object, I really should have tracked down some rice-flour baguettes for optimal texture; mine, ordinary French bread from Whole Foods, were far too tough and chewy. Most tragically, I didn’t enjoy the texture of the pickled vegetables that I had so been looking forward to. Following the Epicurious directions, I coarsely grated them, and they just ended up kind of sad and soggy. It looks like most banh mi recipes call for julienning them, which is labor intensive but would indeed be better. In my mind, what I had actually been craving was crisp, paper-thin slices, so I might try that in the future. I also used ordinary radishes because I couldn’t find a daikon, which I suspect didn’t help matters.

However, despite the dreaded fish sauce (which smells like holy hell but really, as everyone promises, doesn’t taste specifically fishy in the finished dish, just nicely savory), the meatballs were fantastic, the stars of the whole show. I had never seen a meatball recipe that calls for cornstarch before—I’m guessing it’s replacing egg as a binding agent—but it really gave them a unique, firm, uniform texture that was ideal for a sandwich, where you don’t want your meatballs crumbling and falling apart whenever you take a bite. I’m just not sure I really like meatballs on a sandwich; it all seemed too overwhelming to me somehow. (Maybe I should have tried this in the winter, when heartier foods are more appealing.) I’m intrigued by Julie’s comment that “there must be salad potential here”; the meatballs on or next to a mixed-green salad with cucumber, cilantro, the pickled vegetables, and some sort of Asian-esque vinaigrette would be more my speed, I think. I could also see these as skewers or sliders. Meanwhile, I’d like to try making banh mi with some sort of lemongrass chicken instead.

I didn’t make many changes here, except that I followed Julie’s lead in adding thinly sliced cucumbers, which was an excellent decision. And since many Epicurious commenters complained that the recipe was too sweet, I halved the sugar in the pickled vegetables and thought it was still plenty.

Hot chili mayo:
⅔ cup mayonnaise
2 green onions, finely chopped
1 tablespoon hot chili sauce (such as sriracha)

Meatballs:
1 pound ground pork
¼ cup finely chopped fresh basil
4 garlic cloves, minced
3 green onions, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fish sauce
1 tablespoon hot chili sauce (such as sriracha)
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons cornstarch
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt

Sandwiches:
2 cups julienned carrots
2 cups julienned peeled daikon (Japanese white radish)
¼ cup unseasoned rice vinegar
2 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1 tablespoon sesame oil or vegetable oil
4 10-inch-long individual baguettes or four 10-inch-long pieces baguette (cut from 2 baguettes)
1 jalapeño pepper, thinly sliced
1 or 2 Persian cucumbers, sliced into ribbons with a vegetable peeler
Large fresh cilantro sprigs to taste

1. To make the hot chili mayo, stir all the ingredients in a small bowl. Season with salt to taste. (Can be made 1 day ahead; cover and chill until ready to use.)

2. Make the meatballs, gently mix all the ingredients in a large bowl. Using moistened hands and scant tablespoonful for each, roll meat mixture into 1-inch meatballs. (Can be made 1 day ahead; cover and chill until ready to use.)

3. Toss the carrots, daikon, rice vinegar, 2 tablespoons sugar, and 1 teaspoon salt in a medium bowl. Let stand at room temperature for 1 hour, tossing occasionally.

4. Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add meatballs; sauté until brown and cooked through, turning often and lowering heat if browning too quickly, about 15 minutes.

5. Cut each baguette or baguette piece horizontally in half. Pull out enough bread from each bread half to leave a ½-inch-thick shell. Spread hot chili mayo over each bread shell. Arrange jalapeños, then cilantro, in bottom halves. Fill each with ¼ of meatballs. Drain pickled vegetables; place atop meatballs. Press on baguette tops.

Serves: 4
Time: 1½ hours
Leftover potential: OK, if all sandwich components are stored separately.

PEACH, PROSCIUTTO, AND BASIL PIZZA

And with this, my “Put a Fruit on It” experiments have reached their zenith. I saw the base recipe at Two Peas and Their Pod and immediately wanted to try it. Then, at the end of that post, in the automatically generated “you might also like:” section, I spotted a link to a nectarine and prosciutto pizza over at A Cozy Kitchen. I knew that prosciutto and melon are frequently combined, and I was willing to bet that prosciutto and peach wouldn’t be a bad pairing at all. I thought the prosciutto might help keep the pizza firmly grounded in savory territory, balancing out the sweetness of the peaches and the balsamic reduction. (As you’ll recall, although I liked the strawberry pizza, it did seem just a bit desserty.

The Cozy Kitchen recipe applied the prosciutto after baking (along with some raw arugula, which I’m sure was quite lovely and kind of makes me want to devise an arugula, prosciutto, and nectarine salad—yeah, like this, maybe), but I decided to cook mine on the pizza itself, and I was glad I did. Placed between the cheese and the peaches, the cooked prosciutto added just the right touch of salty, greasy, porky chewiness to the otherwise soft and sweet toppings. Instead I left the basil uncooked—I hate the way it gets all browned and crispy and loses its fresh grassy greenness otherwise.

A word of warning about the balsamic reduction: It’s apt to drip off the pizza when you apply it or during baking, and when it gets on the pan, it burns like nobody’s business. It didn’t smoke up my oven, although that seems to have happened to at least one commenter. But it did transform into a charred-caramel substance that was nearly impossible to chip off the pan. I made two smaller pizzas, baked in my cast-iron skillet and my enameled cast-iron pan, and I eventually managed to scrub the blackened goo off the enamel with many tears and much elbow grease, but my regular cast iron still bears a few scarred spots a month later. I’m afraid that if it happens again, I might ruin that skillet for life. However, I refuse to stop making this pizza, because it is one of the most stellar pizzas I’ve ever made. I know I say this a lot, but it just tastes like summer, and it’s the balsamic reduction that really makes it special. So my options are to either start making this on a really old baking sheet I’m willing to sacrifice to the burnt-vinegar gods, or to drizzle on the reduction after the pizza has baked. Right now I’m leaning toward the latter choice, because I’d like to believe it won’t make too much difference. The baking does help the vinegar really soak into the peaches, but it’s so flavorful to begin with that I doubt its power will be much diminished. After I try it, I’ll let you know.

1 cup balsamic vinegar
1–2 tablespoons olive oil
8 ounces fresh mozzarella, sliced
4 ounces sliced prosciutto, torn into pieces
2 to 4 peaches, thinly sliced
½ cup freshly chopped basil

1. To make the balsamic reduction, pour balsamic vinegar into a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until the vinegar has reduced to ¼ cup. Set aside, and cool to room temperature.

2. To make the pizza, preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Roll out the dough on a baking surface coated with cornmeal or olive oil.

3. Lightly brush the dough with olive oil. Top the dough with fresh mozzarella rounds, torn prosciutto, and peach slices. Drizzle the pizza with balsamic reduction (or wait to add the reduction until after baking; see note above).

4. Place the pizza in the oven and bake for 10 to 15 minutes, or until pizza crust is golden and cheese is melted. Remove from oven and sprinkle with chopped basil (and drizzle with the balsamic reduction if you didn’t add it earlier).

5. Let the pizza cool for a few minutes and then cut into slices and serve warm.

Serves: 4
Time: 45 minutes
Leftover potential: Good.

ITALIAN MEATBALL SLIDERS WITH SPINACH-MOZZARELLA SALAD

Once I get interested in a food I can get a little obsessive about it (see: poached eggs, quinoa, feta, fritters), especially when it’s a seasonal fruit or vegetable (see: corn, asparagus, fennel, radishes) that won’t be available at its peak quality for long. This can lead to long stretches where we eat the same types of things at least once a week, sometimes for months on end. No matter how delicious those things are, I know the repetition can be a little wearying for anyone who doesn’t share my passion, so I like to keep a few simple comfort foods in my back pocket, things that can be made year-round and that A is always happy to see on the menu, thus softening the blow that we’re also having, say, kale salad for the third week in a row. Ideally, though, these comfort foods will still be fresh, wholesome, and not too indulgent. That’s a tall order, but luckily, this is the sort of thing Cooking Light excels at, which is why I keep renewing my subscription. Two summers ago, it brought us a now-favorite, BBQ pulled chicken sandwiches, and now it’s served up another slam dunk.

I’ve never been particularly interested in meatball sandwiches or sliders or making burger-type foods at home, so I’m not sure exactly what attracted me to this recipe beyond the fact that the photo was very colorful and appealing, and I suspected A that would enjoy it. I suppose my enjoyment of meatballs has been steadily increasing over the years, from lemony pork meatballs with noodles to Italian wedding soup, as I’ve realized that, never a big fan of slabs of uninterrupted meat, I’ll take these little spiced, seasoned bites over a steak any day. I knew that A, who can have a bird-like appetite at times, would appreciate the petite, nonoverhelming quality of the mini sandwiches, and I liked the fact that they looked easy to put together but didn’t resemble anything else in my recipe collection.

Folks, these are incredibly delicious! I was a bit weirded out when I stirred the ricotta into the ground meat—there was enough that the whole mixture turned white and creamy and gooey, which made it trickier to form the meatballs—but the cheese is the secret ingredient that keeps these relatively lean meatballs so tender and moist. For the sauce, I just used a can of Trader Joe’s tomato sauce, then spiced it up with 1 teaspoon each of dried oregano, dried basil, and balsamic vinegar, plus a pinch each of fennel seed and black pepper, after I added it to the skillet—basically a streamlined version of my pizza sauce. I didn’t see slider buns at any of my usual shopping sites, so I just bought some small buttermilk dinner rolls from a bakery at the farmers’ market and they worked perfectly. (In the future, I’d like to try making little versions of yogurt sandwich rolls for this purpose.) The resulting sandwiches are messy, but so crowd-pleasingly enjoyable. Just don’t leave off the fresh basil leaves, as I accidentally did the second time I made this. They’re not just a garnish; they add a welcome bright, grassy note.

Pondering what to serve alongside this, I figured I might as well go with the simple spinach salad that the magazine suggested as an accompaniment. It sounded a little dull to me, but I knew I wanted some color and vegetables on the plate, and I rarely say no to cheese. It turned out to be an excellent choice; it was easy to make and surprisingly complex-tasting, more than the sum of its parts. The spinach, mozzarella, red pepper, onion, and balsamic dressing completed the Italianate flavor profile so perfectly that I’d never bother serving the sliders without the salad, and for your convenience I’m just combining them into a single recipe below.

Confession: I did not toast my panko (too lazy; seemed unnecessary) or my buns (just noticed that instruction in the original recipe now) and nothing seemed amiss, so I’m marking those steps optional. I suppose toasting the bun might keep the sauce from making it soggy, but as long as you eat these promptly after assembling, I don't think sogginess should be a major problem.

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
3 garlic cloves, minced
3 shallots, finely diced
1 cup thinly sliced red bell pepper
½ cup thinly sliced red onion
1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar
⅜ teaspoon salt, divided
¾ teaspoon black pepper, divided
6 tablespoons finely chopped fresh mozzarella
⅓ cup part-skim ricotta cheese
¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
¼ cup panko, toasted if desired
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
¼ teaspoon red pepper flakes
⅛ teaspoon salt
8 ounces lean ground pork
2 4-ounce links turkey or chicken Italian sausage, casings removed
1 large egg
1½ cups lower-sodium marinara sauce
6 cups baby spinach
12 slider buns (or small dinner rolls, split in half horizontally), toasted if desired
12 large basil leaves

1. Heat 1 teaspoon oil in a large skillet over medium heat; swirl to coat. Add garlic and shallots to pan; sauté 3 minutes or until shallots are softened, stirring frequently. Remove from heat and let cool slightly.

2. While the shallots are cooling, combine red bell pepper, red onion, 2 tablespoons olive oil, 1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar, ¼ teaspoon salt, ¼ teaspoon black pepper, and mozzarella in a large bowl; let stand while preparing the rest of the meal.

3. Combine the ricotta, parsley, panko, ½ teaspoon black pepper, red pepper flakes, ⅛ teaspoon salt, ground pork, Italian sausage, and egg with the shallot mixture in a large bowl. Mix well with your hands, then shape mixture into 12 (approximately 1-inch) meatballs; flatten each meatball slightly.

4. Return pan to medium-high heat. Add remaining 2 teaspoons oil to pan. Add meatballs to pan; cook 6 minutes, turning once. Add marinara sauce; bring to a boil, scraping pan to loosen browned bits. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 8 minutes or until meatballs are done.

5. Add baby spinach to the red pepper mixture and toss well.

6. Top the bottom half of each bun with 1½ tablespoons marinara sauce, 1 meatball, 1 basil leaf, and top half of bun. Serve with spinach salad on the side.

Serves: 6 (2 sliders and about 1 cup of salad each)
Time: 1 hour
Leftover potential: Good, if you store the salad and sliders unassembled. For the salad, store the red pepper mixture separately from the spinach, store both elements in the refrigerator, and combine just before eating. For the sliders, store the meatballs with their sauce separately from the buns, store the meatballs in the refrigerator and the buns at room temperature (or in the freezer), then reheat the meatballs in the microwave (you can also microwave the buns to thaw them, or just briefly to soften them if they are a bit dry), and put them on the buns just before eating. You can either put the basil on top of the meatballs before you store them (it will discolor a bit but will taste just fine), or add it freshly when it’s time to eat.

ASPARAGUS, PROSCIUTTO, EGG, AND PICKLED ONION SANDWICHES

This is the most beautiful sandwich I’ve ever made. It just says “spring” all over, with its delicate hues of pastel green, yellow, and pink and its Eastery flavors of ham, eggs, asparagus, lemon, and dill. I can’t take any credit; I never would have come up with it on my own, especially since I’m not a huge sandwich maker/eater, and in fact I don’t think it would ever have occurred to me to put asparagus on a sandwich at all. (Recipe is from the always-helpful Kitchn.) And it certainly wasn’t any great achievement to put together—boil egg, sear asparagus, slice things, and stack. But it looks and tastes like a work of art. The combination of ingredients initially surprised me, but they work together so well it seems almost inevitable—grassy, tart, creamy, salty, bright, herby, and savory in perfect balance. I’m already jonesing for this again (and this time I’ll double the recipe because I hear the sandwiches are just as good if not better the next day), so I imagine it will be a staple meal for us as long as asparagus is in season.

The only major change I made to the original was to add prosciutto, which was suggested in the comments, and it was the ideal party guest, sliced so thin that it didn’t overwhelm its gentler companions, but adding just a tinge of meaty substance and chew. However, vegetarians can feel free to leave it out without missing too much. I was actually thinking that sliced radishes might be a good addition as well, or maybe it's just that they’d fit in so well with the springy theme and color scheme. If I try it, I’ll let you know.

My sole complaint was not with the recipe, but with my ingredients: my baguette (purchased from Trader Joe’s earlier that day) was extremely hard. I microwaved it a bit, skipped the toasting step, and was generous with the liquid components, but it still made biting and chewing these sandwiches a real workout for our jaws. If I can’t get a better baguette next time, I might consider toasted ciabatta or a softer sandwich roll instead.

2 eggs
1 medium shallot, thinly sliced (or a few tablespoons of diced red onion)
¼ cup red wine vinegar
Half a bunch of asparagus spears (about 15–30, depending on thickness)
Olive oil to taste
2 small baguettes (or a similar portion of a larger baguette, enough for two sandwiches about the same length as your asparagus spears)
Dijon mustard to taste
4 slices prosciutto
Fresh dill to taste
Freshly squeezed lemon juice to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

1. Hard-boil the eggs and set aside.

2. Place the red wine vinegar in a small bowl, add the sliced shallot and a few pinches of salt, and stir. Set aside to pickle while you make the rest of the sandwich.

3. Trim the asparagus by cutting off the woody ends; try to get the spears to a roughly uniform length, about the same length as your bread. If the spears are thick, cut them in half lengthwise. In a large skillet over high heat, add a little oil. Sear the asparagus spears, about 3 or 4 minutes on each side. You want a little bit of char, so don't move the asparagus very often. Remove from skillet and set aside.

 4. Split bread in half lengthwise; toast lightly if desired. Brush the top half with a little olive oil; spread mustard on the bottom half. Place two slices of prosciutto atop each mustard-covered piece, then add half the asparagus to each sandwich. Peel and slice the eggs and add half of the slices to each sandwich. Top with dill and pickled onions, then season with salt, pepper, and a squeeze of lemon to taste.

Serves: 2
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: I haven’t tried it, but the original recipe says it will keep a day in the fridge and might be even better the next day, although the bread will lose its crustiness.

KALE CAESAR SALAD WITH POACHED EGG AND CRISPY PROSCIUTTO

Just in case you were laboring under the misapprehension that raw kale is solely hippie-dippy rabbit food, I thought I’d debauch it a little. It’s kind of hilarious that I would even think to make this, since I have long abhorred copious amounts of mayonnaise, particularly salads swimming in copious amounts of mayonnaise-based dressings. But then, I’ve long abhorred runny eggs, and we all know I’m over that one. Plus, it turns out that kale will admirably withstand whatever rich thing you want to drench it with. I actually started out with a modest amount of dressing here, but ended up using the whole batch just to get the moisture and flavor levels I wanted into all the nooks and crannies in the leaves. And it was delicious.

I had some homemade mayonnaise left over from making fish cakes with tartar sauce (and later some BLTs, where the mayo really shone, so I’ll probably be making batches of it all summer long). I had a newfound love of kale salad and newfound egg-poaching skillz. And I had this Dinner With Julie post bookmarked. The kale got shredded, the mayo got blended with generous quantities of garlic, lemon, pepper, and cheese (I had leftover Pecorino from my previous kale salad, so I used that instead of Parmesan), the prosciutto got crisped (I’d never done this, but consider me a convert—it’s so fun to watch as it shrivels in the skillet, and so much faster, easier, and less greasy than bacon), and the eggs got poached (perfectly, I must say), then the whole glorious mess got mixed together and devoured.

Despite all the porky, creamy, eggy ooziness here, it still feels like a light meal (we ate it as a main dish, with two eggs per serving; if you want it as a side, you could use one egg or none), and the grassy greenness of the kale shines through. I certainly won’t be eating this every day or even every month, but it’s an excellent use of leftover homemade mayonnaise. (I assume that you could substitute storebought, but if you must, I don’t want to know about it. I’m not far enough from my old mayo-hating days to contemplate that.) Oh kale, is there anything you can’t do?

I’m afraid I kind of winged this without paying too much attention to measurements, so I can’t give you an exact recipe for the dressing. Just keep tasting and you’ll get there.

Homemade mayonnaise (I probably had about ½ to ⅔ cup)
Juice of 1 lemon
1 medium garlic clove, peeled and smashed
Black pepper to taste
Freshly grated Parmesan or Pecorino Romano cheese to taste
1 bunch Tuscan kale
A little olive oil or cooking spray (optional)
8 slices prosciutto
4–8 eggs (optional)

1. In a small bowl, combine the mayonnaise, lemon juice to taste, garlic, pepper to taste, and cheese to taste. Blend with an immersion blender until smooth (you might be able to do this with a small food processor as well, but I can’t vouch for it; in a pinch, you could probably just mince your garlic and shred your cheese super-finely, then stir everything together in a bowl). Taste and add more lemon juice, pepper, or cheese if needed.

2. Remove the ribs from the kale and discard, and then slice the kale leaves into ribbons and place in a large bowl.

3. Heat a skillet over medium heat and add a tiny amount of olive oil or cooking spray, just to barely coat the pan—or if you have a nonstick skillet, you might be able to do without any oil, because the prosciutto will produce a small amount of grease as it cooks. Set the prosciutto slices in the pan (flat and apart from each other, as you would with bacon) and cook, turning as necessary, until browned and crisp (it should only take a few minutes). Remove from skillet and set aside on a paper towel.

4. Add the dressing to the kale gradually, tossing very well to coat the leaves, until you have the desired amount of coverage (you may or may not use all the dressing). Divide the kale between four serving bowls. Place two slices of crisp prosciutto atop each serving (I like to crumble them a bit with my hands so the pieces aren’t huge). If desired, poach or fry one to two eggs per serving and set them atop the salads.

Serves: 4
Time: 40 minutes
Leftover potential: OK. The dressed kale will stay unwilted for at least a day, maybe longer. Obviously, you’ll need to freshly poach/fry eggs for the leftover servings—they won’t keep in the fridge. I also waited to cook the second set of four prosciutto slices before I served the leftovers, but I’m guessing that if you want to precook the prosciutto it’ll be OK the second day, maybe just less crispy.

ITALIAN WEDDING SOUP

I already have a recipe for a meatball soup, but this one from the Kitchn won me over with its kale (I can’t get enough kale!), and particularly with its promise of “cheesy egg ribbons.” It turns out that although those things are great, the meatballs are the real stars here. When I reached the “season to taste” step at the end of the cooking process, I kept tasting little sips of broth and worrying that it seemed a bit bland. I should have just tried one of the meatballs before I reached for the salt shaker again, because boy howdy they were packed with flavor. (Instead, I ended up oversalting the soup a little in my paranoia. Next time, I’ll either add some red pepper flakes with the onions and garlic, or just toss in a bit of extra cheese at the end to help along the flavor of the broth. The lemon juice squeezed in at the end did give it some zip, but my lemon was small and my impulse would have been to use more if I had it.) For making the meatballs really sing, I credit the fresh oregano, and especially the last-minute addition of lemon zest I decided upon after seeing it casually mentioned in the post that accompanied the original recipe. (In fact, I think the lemon zest should be mandatory; it was my favorite part!) The soup as a whole was just dandy, nicely brothy, slightly creamy, and packed with greens, but every time I bit into one of the meatballs it took everything up another level. As its name suggests, this soup is an excellent marriage of elements, warm and comforting enough for winter but light and perky enough for spring, and balanced enough to please both carnivores (A) and vegetable lovers (me). Even though my soup repertoire is growing lengthy, there’s definitely a place in it for this.

¾ pound ground pork (or chicken, turkey, or beef)
½ cup dry breadcrumbs (I used panko)
3 large eggs
½ cup grated Romano cheese, divided
½ cup grated Parmesan cheese, divided
1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano (or 1 teaspoon dried)
1 teaspoon salt, plus extra to taste
½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper, plus extra to taste
Grated zest and freshly squeezed juice of 1 lemon
2–3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 medium yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
8 cups chicken stock
1 bunch kale (I used Tuscan) or other greens (such as chard or escarole), trimmed and torn into bite-sized pieces (about 6 lightly packed cups)

1. Combine the ground meat, breadcrumbs, 1 egg, ¼ cup of each cheese, oregano, 1 teaspoon salt, ½ teaspoon pepper, and lemon zest in a bowl. Mix thoroughly, then form the mixture into ¾-inch balls. You should have at least 30 meatballs, depending on how large you form them.

2. In a large skillet, heat 1–2 tablespoons oil (depending on the fattiness of your meat; 1 tablespoon was plenty for my pork, but you might want more for a leaner meat such as turkey) over medium-high heat. Add the meatballs in batches, and cook, turning, until browned all over, 3 to 5 minutes. (If they are still a bit pink in the middle, don’t worry; they will continue to cook in the broth.) Remove them from the skillet with a slotted spoon and set them aside on paper towels to absorb excess oil.

3. In a 4-to-6-quart soup pot, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon oil over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic and sauté until onions are tender and garlic is soft, but not browned, about 5 minutes. Add the stock and bring to a boil. Add the greens, reduce the heat to low, cover, and simmer for 10 minutes. Add the meatballs and cook another 5 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, combine remaining 2 eggs and remaining cheeses in small bowl and stir with a fork to blend. Slow pour the egg mixture into hot soup, stirring constantly in one direction. Cover and simmer just until egg bits are set, about 1 minute. Stir in lemon juice, salt, and pepper to taste.

Serves: 6 to 8
Time: 1½ hours (The soup-making part doesn’t take long, but I find it time-consuming to form meatballs; maybe you can do it faster. If you made the meatballs ahead of time and froze them, this could be a very quick and easy weeknight meal.)
Leftover potential: Great.

CRISPY PORK MEDALLIONS

Hey, pork! Even though I came of age in the late 1980s, during the heady days of the famous “The Other White Meat” campaign (“the fifth most memorable promotional tagline in the history of contemporary advertising”*), it never really occurs to me to eat whole cuts of pork. I’m not tempted to order it in restaurants; I’ve only prepared it once at home—and that was really just because I had some wild rice to use up. I use ground pork on occasion, and I love sausage and bacon and prosciutto and pulled pork and carnitas and all that jazz, so I have no problem with the flavor; I just don’t gravitate toward big pieces of meat (not even steaks) and at this point, eight years into a food blog, I’m rather embarrassed that I don’t know how to buy or cook pork. I’m not even sure what made me dogear the page of Cooking Light that featured this recipe, except that it looked easy and tasty and involved the now-apparently-omnipresent-in-my-kitchen combo of Dijon and panko breading. Plus, it looked like something A would like, and I figured he deserved a break from all that quinoa.

I did what I always do when I see something promising-looking in Cooking Light, which was to flag the page in the actual magazine, wait a couple of weeks, and then go to the online version of the recipe to see what the ratings look like and whether there are any frequently-suggested tips, tricks, additions, or other edits. (There are a lot of loopy commenters out there, but in my experience, when nearly everyone says something like “Double the sauce” or “Halve the salt,” they’re usually on to something.) This one had a five-star rating with no real suggestions for improvement, which surprised me a bit because it looked so incredibly simple as to risk blandness. I figured it was time to take the plunge, so I went out and bought myself a pork tenderloin. And wow, those things are magical! Sure, they’re rather comically tubular, but they’re affordable ($4.99/pound at Trader Joe’s) and incredibly easy to deal with. The meat was moist and tender, and flavorful enough that I think I’d like it even if it weren’t enrobed in delicious mustard.

I’m not sure if I have a faulty meat thermometer (very likely) or I’m still getting used to my new oven or pork tenderloins vary or what, but I struggled just a bit making this even though the instructions are laughably straightforward. The first time, my pork simply refused to reach the correct temperature. Being so inexperienced as a pork cooker, I was paranoid about undercooking and ended up baking it more than twice as long as the recipe dictated. I’d gotten started later than I’d planned and the new side dish I was making also took much longer than expected, so by the time my pork finally registered 145 degrees, at about 9:30 on a Sunday night, I was thoroughly Over It. So convinced was I that the entire meal was going to be a disaster that I didn’t even take photos. Then, of course, everything was delicious, so I had to turn around and make it again so I could get photos for this site. The second time, I approached it with a Zen “this will take however long it takes” attitude, and I managed to overcook the pork—it was still just as tasty as ever, just a bit on the dry side. I’m contemplating sticking to 8 minutes next time, no matter what the thermometer says. But these are small matters; the important thing is that this recipe manages to get a lot of flavor out of just a few ingredients and a simple cooking technique. Also, I am now officially interested in pork, so pigs, hide your tenderloins! I’m off to troll the food sites for recipes.

*Hilariously to me, the National Pork Board now refers to “The Other White Meat” as its “heritage brand,” having switched to the vague and tepid motto “Be Inspired.”

2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 pound pork tenderloin, trimmed and cut into 8 medallions
½ cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs)
1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme
1 tablespoon minced fresh parsley
¼ teaspoon salt
Freshly ground black pepper to taste
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

1. Preheat oven to 450 degrees.

2. Rub mustard evenly over pork medallions. Combine panko, thyme, parsley, salt, and pepper in a large bowl.

3. Heat a large ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat. Add oil to pan; swirl to coat.

4. When skillet is hot, dredge pork medallions one by one in panko mixture and add them to the skillet. Sauté 2 minutes or until golden brown on the bottom. Turn pork over, then place skillet in oven and bake for 8 minutes or until pork reaches an internal temperature of 145 degrees. Let stand 3 minutes before serving.

Serves: 4
Time: 30 minutes
Leftover potential: OK, although breadcrumbs will not remain crisp.

SHAVED SUMMER SQUASH SALAD WITH FETA AND PROSCIUTTO

Shaved salads seem to be in vogue this year, or at least I’ve seen a lot of them (especially asparagus ones) on the food blogs lately. I can understand why: they are undeniably pretty, as well as being texturally exciting; it’s nifty how a vegetable that is rarely consumed raw can be rendered tender and palatable through thin slicing and a flavorful acidic marinade. This was the only recipe I dogeared in June’s issue of Cooking Light (I’ve been subscribing long enough that most of the recipes have started to look the same to me), but it’s a doozy, colorful and abstract-looking, pepping up the somewhat bland squash with mint, lemon, and salty pork and cheese for a sophisticated and refreshing summer dish.

Maybe it will be clearer to you, but it took me a while to figure out the proper squash-shaving technique in Step 2, especially the “discard seeds” part. I was shaving the squash (that sounds like a euphemism for something) the way I’d peel the skin off a cucumber—run the peeler down the length of it, rotate a few degrees, and peel parallel to the last spot—so I was getting some pieces that were all skin and then, after a few series of rotations, pieces that were all seeds. Was I supposed to discard any piece that had seeds in it? Wouldn’t that be most of them? Well, duh, no. I was supposed to peel a strip, then peel another strip in the same spot, repeating until I reached the seedy part, then turn the squash about 90 degrees and start peeling new strips in a spot adjacent to the one I’d just done, and so forth, until basically what was left was a square of the interior core of the squash, which is then discarded. This method has less waste and gives you the photogenic slices that are mostly lighter-toned squash flesh with borders of the darker skin.

1 medium zucchini
2 medium yellow squash
¼ teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons thinly sliced fresh mint
1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
½ teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
3 thin slices prosciutto (1 ounce), chopped
¼ cup (1 ounce) crumbled feta cheese

1. Shave the zucchini and squash into thin strips using a vegetable peeler. Discard seeds. Place zucchini and squash in a medium bowl, and toss with salt.

2. Combine mint and next 4 ingredients (through pepper) in a small bowl; stir with a whisk. Pour over zucchini and squash; toss.

3. Heat a small nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add prosciutto; sauté for 2 minutes or until crisp.

4. Place ¾ cup salad on each of 4 plates. Top each serving with 1 tablespoon cheese; sprinkle evenly with prosciutto.

Serves: 4
Time: 15 minutes
Leftover potential: Surprisingly good; keeps for several days in the refrigerator.