from the humble, the sublime

I made french toast last Sunday, and since there are just two of us, half a loaf of challah bread sat on the counter for several days, taunting me.  Bread pudding was calling out to me.  And I had  caramel sauce in the fridge, which lasts forever once you have made it.  No dessert is more humble and beautiful at the same time as a good bread pudding.  I cubed the bread, heated the oven to 350, and dotted it with a bit of butter.  Ten minutes produced a light toast on the bread.

even with already stale bread, a light toast is in order

Bread pudding is a forgiving dessert--it will accept nearly all comers.   Shredded apples, sliced peaches, minced dried apricots, mangoes, currents, nuts of any kind.  This time I went with traditional.  Raisins plumped in a bit of rum (because I had it.  Bourbon is probably better), and pecans toasted in the oven for about 10 minutes, then chopped.  

The pudding was simple.  Four eggs, about 1 1/2 cups of light cream, a cup of sugar, and a teaspoon each of nutmeg, cinnamon, lemon zest, and salt.  Whisk like you mean it.

getting ready to add a furious minute or two of whisking

The oven goes on at 325.  I added the nuts and raisins to the bread, poured on the pudding mixture, and added it all to a buttered casserole dish.

 

ready for the oven

40 minutes later-- would like to say I read War and Peace

in the interim, but more likely, I watched SuperNanny

What looks like a mess comes out of the oven 40 minutes later ready to do time as an elegant finish to any meal.  I keep the caramel sauce in a squeeze bottle that can warm in the microwave in a minute, ready to decorate a simple serving of delicious bread pudding.  What a great fate for some stale bread, haunting my counter top.

guess I'm not being very humble, but I think any 

New Orleans cook would be proud of this plate

the basil is going crazy

I have a dilemma.  I have basil plants outside just going nuts, and I still have basil pesto in the freezer from last year.  Yes, I know, I must have been nuts not to use it all up over the winter.  But to make room for this year's harvest, I have been using last years harvest in any dish I can dream up.  So last night, I made up a dish from the freezer.  Pesto, pancetta, and peas, with little pasta shells that have been lingering too long in my pantry.  It was delicious, and ready for the plate in under 30 minutes.

some sliced pancetta and a hot pepper from the garden, 

along with a bit of frozen pesto -- dinner was fast

Pancetta is easy to find these days -- most grocery stores have it in the deli, ready to be sliced very thin.  Bacon will suffice in a pinch, but pancetta is not smoked, so the flavor is very different.  It crisps up much the same, and adds some great texture to a creamy dish.  I started by frying the pancetta in one of my beloved pans, and as it crisped, I added in the sliced hot pepper for a little kick.

I am still enamored with these French pans

While the pancetta crisped and the peppers softened, I boiled up some pasta shells.  While many different pasta shapes would do here, I like the shells particularly.  Their little cupped shape scoops up peas and pesto with alacrity.   I know it is the height of summer, but I must admit to using frozen peas.  Peas are a springtime treat, and we are far past spring.  Frozen peas are one of the best frozen veggies in the market.  Picked at the height of their season and flash frozen, the end product can often be superior to the peas you find in the veggie section at the market.  If someone told me I could have only two frozen veggies for the rest of my life, I would choose frozen peas and frozen pearl onions.  I don't even want to talk about the grim chore of peeling fresh pearl onions.

Once the shells were al dente and the pancetta crisp, I drained the pasta, tossed the still frozen peas in the empty pot along with the frozen pesto, and heated it all over low heat, just until everything melted.  In went the pasta, and I tossed it all together.

Onto a plate, and on with the crispy pancetta and hot peppers.  Lovely dish, from the garden, the freezer and the pantry, all together in less than 30 minutes.  Can't complain about that....

Impromptu mix of spring and summer flavors

roasted tomato soup with fennel and orange

We are bursting at the seams with tomatoes. Another light summer soup seems in order.  This one with roasted tomatoes.  Roasting makes tomatoes super easy to peel and core.  They can be roasted in the oven or on  the grill.  About 20 minutes yield tomatoes with blackened skins and cores that are easy to pluck out with your fingers.  Let them cool for a few minutes, then pluck off the skins, pluck out the cores, and add the juices that have accumulated in the pan into a sauce pan to reduce.  After about five minutes, add the tomatoes, and a finely shaved head of fennel, reserving a few of the wispy fronds of fennel for garnish.

soup at its most simple and seasonal

Once the tomatoes have reduced and the fennel is tender, turn off the heat, add in the zest and juice from a small orange, and salt and pepper to taste.  Blend it up in a blender to smooth it out, or better yet, just go at it with an immersion blender right in the pot.

a most handy tool, like a portable blender

Put a cheese sandwich on the grill, and prepare for summer heaven, ready in just 30 minutes.  Throw the leftovers in the fridge and serve cold as an appetizer with some diced cucumber and herbs on top at your next dinner party.  Heavenly, and ever so light on the palate.

the smooth flavor of garden tomatoes, accented

with the licorice of fennel, and the citrus punch of orange