Chicken Stir Fry

There are some hot summer nights where I just don’t want to cook. Working a long day in a building with recirculated air, fluorescent lighting, and the politics of people trying to prove that they’re smarter than you can be exhausting. And coming home after an hour long commute via two trains and a bus, where you’re greeted by a cat that throws up on your sneakers (it may be because one of her favorite places to get into is the trash),

does not make me want to stand by a hot stove for an hour. No.

No no no no no.

So is there a solution, besides a week full of salads?

I love salad, but I think Roo would leave me if he had to eat night after night of random vinaigrettes. With that, there’s compromise, and for me, it’s only ten minutes of actual suffering.

I mean, cooking.

My life line is stir fry, and in this case, chicken stir fry. The largest part of work for this dish is prepping the veg.  Then it’s throwing everything into a very large saute pan, stirring it around, and before Roo can finish a level of ‘Firefight with skulls on’ (a Halo ref that I hate myself for knowing), it’s time to plate dinner and sit by a box fan that will blow your hair into your mouth as you eat.  But more appetizing.

Adapted, only a little, from The Pioneer Woman

Serves four generously

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Ingredients

These ingredients are based on what I received from my CSA this week. You could always switch out for what you’d like to have in your stir fry, since that’s the whole point (dump and cook what you have in your fridge).

Leftover rice, or rice made from your rice cooker, or stove top per the bag’s instructions

3 scallions, diced (you could use one medium onion diced here, but I was trying to use up ingredients from my CSA)

3 cloves garlic, minced (I love garlic)

1 knob of ginger, about the size of your thumb, minced (or grated if you’re lazy like me)

1 teaspoon of crushed red pepper flake (I love spicy, if you’re scared, start with a 1/4 teaspoon)

One pound of broccoli crowns, cut into easily edible pieces

3 carrots, chopped

2 red peppers, chopped

1 bunch of tatsoi (again, from my CSA)

3 Whole Chicken Breasts, sliced into pieces (I like to use kitchen shears and let the pieces fall into a ziploc bag which contained the marinade)

1 teaspoon Sesame Oil (and more to drizzle over chicken)

Three quarters of a cup *low sodium* Soy Sauce (and more to drizzle over chicken) *This is the start of making a LOT of sauce, because I had a lot of veg (and I love extra sauce for my rice). If the idea of 1 cup of soy sauce scares you, half it, along with the sugar, chicken broth, corn starch, sesame oil, and rice wine vinegar.**

One quarter of a cup of water (to be mixed with the soy sauce)

6 tablespoons of Sugar (I know, I know, that’s a lot, but less than that and you’ll end up with something quite acrid)

1 cup Chicken Broth, to be divided

3 teaspoons corn starch

2 – 4 tablespoons olive oil

1 – 2 teaspoons rice wine vinegar (optional, taste your sauce first)

1/4 cup cilantro, chopped (optional, some people think it tastes like soap. Haters!)

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Equipment

A very, VERY large saute pan, or a wok

3 small bowls (that can hold up to a cup and a half of liquid)

A whisk

A very sharp knife

Tongs or a spatula

A grater, if handy

A large ziploc bag, or a large plate for your chicken to hang out on

Another large plate for your chicken to hang out on after cooking

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After prepping all your veg, slice up your chicken into a large ziploc bag, or onto a plate. Drizzle a bit of soy sauce and sesame oil onto the chicken. Toss it about so all the chicken is coated. Set aside.

Gather the three small bowls for the wet ingredients. In one bowl, mix three quarters of a cup of soy sauce with a quarter cup of water and 6 tablespoons of sugar. Set aside. In the second bowl, mix half a cup of chicken broth with 3 teaspoons of corn starch. Set aside. In the third bowl, pour the other half cup of chicken broth into it. Set aside.

Place the very VERY large saute pan (or wok) on the burner over high heat (not blasting, but more than a medium flame). Pour in 2 – 4 tablespoons of olive oil into the pan (enough to coat the bottom). When the oil starts to shimmer, add the chicken. Do not crowd the pan with the chicken. You want an even single layer of meat on the bottom of the pan. If this means you have to work in shifts, so be it. Letting the chicken sit on one side for a minute or two (until browned), flip, and cook for another minute or two. When the chicken has cooked through, remove from the pan and place on a clean plate to hang out while you work on your veg (repeat if you had to cook the chicken in shifts).

Add another tablespoon of olive oil if necessary to the pan (to avoid sticking). Add the green onions and cook for about 30 seconds. Add the garlic and the ginger. Stir the ingredients about so that they’re coated with the oil and are sizzling. Start adding in the rest of your veg in shifts. I usually start with the veg that’s going to take the longest to cook and end with the one that takes the least. In this case it was carrots, then broccoli, followed by red peppers and then tatsoi.

When all of the ingredients have cooked through (it takes about three minutes with the carrots, followed by two minutes with the broccoli, then the red peppers, waiting a minute, and then adding the tatsoi, constantly tossing the ingredients with my tongs), it’s time to add the wet ingredients.

Pour in the chicken broth and the soy sauce that’s mixed with sugar. Toss the veg in within the pan so that they’re coated. Drizzle one teaspoon of sesame oil over the sauce. Again, toss.

Add the cooked chicken to the sauce. Add the chicken broth that’s mixed with corn starch. Again, toss everything together.

Now, it’s time to taste. Are you craving something a little bit more acidic? You may want to drizzle a teaspoon to 2 teaspoons of rice vinegar to the sauce. But make sure you taste first! I made the mistake of doing this without tasting and got something horribly acrid once. It was sad.

When the sauce is to your liking, remove the pan from the burner. If you’d like to add your cilantro to your dish, do so on your individual serving (again, be aware of the haters).

Serve over rice.

Quinoa Patties

Unless you’ve been living under a rock this past week, you’re aware that the Bruins won the Stanley Cup last Wednesday.  And this past Saturday, Boston held the championship parade.

Roo and I were unable to see the parade (he has been waiting for the Bs to win the cup since he was traumatized by their last playoff game years ago) as he had to attend an all day bachelor party and I had to go to work.  That, unfortunately, didn’t mean I missed out on experiencing the Bruins fans.

I decided to take public transportation to work – as I usually do during the week – to avoid the mess of road closures.  I don’t know if that was the best decision I made…

Around 11:30 I took the bus to Kenmore station, and the ride was surprisingly quiet.  My guess was that most of the fans had left very early so they could get a spot right up against the road to cheer their team on as they rolled by.  Park Street however, was a different story.

Walking down the stairs to get to the red line, there was this sound, a sound I can only describe as the scene from the movie Gladiator, when the men are walking up the ramp only to hear a roar from the crowd beyond the wooden doors.  And yellow!  The platform was packed with Bruins fans, in their yellow and black shirts, shouting words like, “Bruins,” “Cup,” “Yeah!,” and other things that I couldn’t make out because it was so loud.  The majority of them appeared to be in their early twenties, and, wasted.  At the base of the stairs MBTA employees were yelling at those who walked down (and then clustered in front of them), to move down the platform to make room for everyone.  But there really wasn’t any room left.  The normally cool underground subway station, was overcrowded, humid, and smelled of sweat.  And beer.

How we all managed to get onto the train, still boggles my mind, but for some reason karma disliked my getting a seat.  I only had to go one stop, but not a minute after we moved, I got elbowed on the bridge of my nose.

That’s right.

It honestly happened all to quickly for me to even block the hit, but there was a scuffle amongst – I think – friends (who were drunk).

When I got home after work I just wanted something comforting to eat (for me and my now roman nose), with little time at the stove as it was quite warm out.  I threw quinoa in the rice cooker, and thumbed through a new favorite cookbook of mine, Super Natural Everyday.

I never had quinoa until I started reading the author’s blog.  And now quinoa is something Roo requests, which is especially rewarding because I never thought that the boy from “the most Irish town in America” would ever eat something that wasn’t a normal side to chicken or beef.  But that’s my own crow I have to chew on.

Adapted, just a little, from Super Natural Everyday

I didn’t make them super round and all pretty, probably because I was feeling a bit ugly myself, but they truly are delicious.  Crispy on the outside from being pan fried with a bit of oil, a tiny bite from the onion, with creaminess from the egg, parmesan and garlic; it’s just what you need when you’re having an off day.

Serves Four as a Side, Generously

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Ingredients

About two cups cooked quinoa

4 large egg whites (you can use 4 eggs – I can’t because of Roo, *note: this will also create a more sturdy mixture as the egg yolks I find are a better binder)

1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt (I use Diamond brand)

1 large onion diced

1/2 cup parmesan cheese grated

4 cloves of garlic, minced (I love garlic, but if you’re not as big of a fan, use 3)

1 cup panko

1 – 2 teaspoons of crushed red pepper flake (this little something really adds to the dish, if heat scares you, start with half a teaspoon)

3 tablespoons olive oil (for the pan)

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Equipment

One large bowl

One large saute pan with cover (if you don’t have a cover, it’s ok, I have forgotten to cover the pan and it’s worked out just fine)

A spatula

A pair of tongs or another spatula (to flip the patties)

A sharp knife

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I find that cooking a half cup of quinoa yields about two cups of quinoa.  In a pot add half a cup of quinoa and one cup of water to a boil.  Reduce the heat so that the contents simmer for around 20 minutes or until the quinoa opens up.  The quinoa will reveal a little curly cue tail (like a spiral) and it will be soft to chew (softer than cooked barley).  Drain any remaining liquid and set aside to cool to room temperature.  If you have a rice cooker, throw the quinoa in, adding the water to the “white rice” 0.5 cup level, and press quick cook.

Add quinoa, egg whites and salt to the large bowl and combine with spatula.  Add the onion and garlic, parmesan cheese, panko and crushed red pepper flake. Fold in all the ingredients till combined (it’s going to make a pretty sticky “batter”).  Pour the olive oil into the pan and set the burner on medium heat.  As the oil starts to warm, make your patties.  I like to grab about a palmful of “batter,” and roll it in between my hands, flattening it down before putting it into the pan.  Hopefully by the time you finish your first patty, the oil will start to shimmer.

Place the first patty in the pan.  If the pan is hot enough, the patty shouldn’t fall apart.  (I have found when using egg whites that the patty tends to fall apart in the pan if it isn’t hot enough.)  Then, keep going, making patties, and placing them in the pan, one by one.  (In my pan, I can fit all of them.)  Without crowding them, fit as many as you can.  Cover the pan (if you can, if you don’t have a cover, that’s fine, it just may take longer) and cook for 7 to 10 minutes.  You want the patties to be deeply browned (browned = ohmygoodness, who cares if I was hit in the nose).  Flip the patties with your tongs/spatula and then press the patties down to flatten them out even more (believe in the browning!).  Cook for another 5 to 10 minutes until golden brown.  Remove the patties from the pan and let cool on a couple paper towels.  Repeat the above steps with any remaining “batter.”

Green Bean Succotash

This is Roo’s last week of teaching at the school.  Needless to say, I’m jealous that he’ll have the summer off to do what he likes while I commute an hour to work everyday; hostage to fluorescent lighting and windows that don’t open.  He’s said that he’s going to get another job (working part time waiting tables), but I have my doubts.  Well, the green eyed jealous beast (think Yeti, because hairy = more terrifying) that looms inside me has its doubts.

I’ve never been jealous of Roo’s job until now, especially after my boss and I planned out my schedule this week, which is always set six weeks in advance.  As of today, I’m booked till the end of July.  Wait, what happened!?

And with the feeling that summer is slipping through my fingers (even though it has just begun), I’ve been scooping up seasonal items at our local vegetable stand, like it’s the end of the world.  Or, the end of summer produce.

The other day they were trying to get all their asparagus sold before the end of Saturday (because they’re closed on Sunday) and offered 2 bunches for $1. I almost felt guilty buying four bunches, but, the moment passed after I yanked out two trays of roasted asparagus with parmesan cheese and lemon zest out of the oven.  It tasted too good to feel bad.

This week they were doing the same with their sweet corn.  Five for $1.  And it’s good!  It’s always good!

So with intentions of only stopping by to say “hi,” to Johnny D himself, and pick up a tomato or two (who am I kidding, I knew I can never leave that place with just one tomato), I left the store with two heavy bags of produce.  And like Gollum, I sat on the floor of our kitchen, admiring my bounty and shooing the cats away whenever they neared (they’re obsessed with greens…our cats are weird).

There were so many possibilities of what dishes I could make with the pounds of veg I purchased.  But I knew with the many, many ears of corn, I had to make succotash.

“Ew, succotash?” is what my Dad replied when I told him what I was making for dinner.   And to think about it, “Ew, succotash?” is probably how a lot of people feel, because of lima beans.  I’ll admit it, I’ve never had succotash before because of the lima bean factor.  The dish was pigeon-holed with others that contained things like okra and natto.

It wasn’t until I read Cooking for Mr. Latte and learned that the author had made succotash with green beans, that I decided to give it a try.  It had all the components I liked: green beans, corn and thyme; although I have never tried them together.  Instead of chives, I threw in an onion to brown in the olive oil.  There was an option of adding goat cheese to the dish, but I love the flavors just the way they are.  The thyme pairs really well with the sweet corn and I didn’t want to take away from that.  It’s a great side to grilled chicken, and I loved having it with some vine ripened tomatoes on the side.

Adapted from Cooking for Mr. Latte

A generous side dish for two (probably three)

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Ingredients

Two ears of corn

Two large handfuls of green beans

One large onion, diced

1/2 teaspoon of dried thyme

Two tablespoons of olive oil

Salt and pepper to taste

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Equipment

One large pot

A large saute pan

A sharp knife

A spatula/tongs

A large bowl filled halfway with water and about a tray (12) of ice cubes

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Fill a large pot with water and season with salt.  Bring it to a roaring boil.  Add the corn and boil for about two minutes.  Remove the corn from the water and add the green beans.  Boil the green beans for about four minutes.  Remove the green beans and plunge them into the ice water bath.  Remove the green beans from the ice water bath and set them aside with the corn.

Cut the corn from the corn cobs.  Cut the green beans into a half inch pieces (it doesn’t have to be exact, just small enough to easily eat).

Add the olive oil to the saute pan and set it on a burner on medium heat.  When the oil starts to shimmer, add the diced onion.  Move the diced onion around the saute pan with the spatula, occasionally, until they become golden brown.  Add the thyme and stir into the onions until fragrant, about a thirty seconds.  Add the corn and green beans and stir in with the diced onion.  I like to cook the ingredients from this point for about three minutes, so that they are completely heated through.  However, if you taste the corn (and green beans) and it isn’t soft enough to your liking, keep stirring until it is.  Add salt to taste.

Remove from heat and add pepper to taste.

Whole Wheat Banana Pancakes

I think I’m the only female on earth that doesn’t like Jack Johnson’s song, Banana Pancakes.  I like Jack Johnson, and some of my male friends – even some I’ve dated – have an eerily strong love for the man that loves to repeatedly tell me “we’re better together.”

No Jack, no, we are not.

I do love actual banana pancakes.  (I also love the concept of eating breakfast for dinner, also known as “Brinner.”)  I came across this recipe one Saturday morning when I was craving a warm breakfast, but with minimal effort.  This recipe is great as the ingredients can put together in five minutes and within a half an hour, we were sitting down at our kitchen table to eat breakfast.

Not listening to Jack Johnson.

I also love that everything about it seems healthy but it tastes indulgent.  If there’s anything I can suggest is please, please, use the bananas.  Sure, blueberry pancakes are also delicious, but the bananas.  The bananas caramelize.  How can you go wrong with a somewhat slightly crunchy on the outside, sweet – hey, maybe that could be creme brulee in my mouth, if I really think about, wait, why is he staring at me? –  incredibly creamy, caramelized banana slice?  You just can’t.

Adapted, a little, from Gina’s Skinny Recipes

Makes about 9 pancakes

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Ingredients

Dry

1 cup whole wheat flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/8 teaspoon salt (I used Diamond fine sea salt)

Wet

3 large egg whites

1 cup milk (I used 1%)

1 tablespoon honey

1 teaspoon vanilla extract (I used vanilla paste this time as I ran out of extract)

2 teaspoons olive oil (I use a very mild flavored one, such as Filippo Berio)

Other

3 ripe bananas sliced quite thin, for about 6 – 9 slices per pancake (I love caramelized bananas on the bottom of my pancake.  If you think that may be overwhelming, cut up one banana, and decorate your pancake from there.)

Set aside some olive oil to coat your pan

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Equipment

2 small – medium mixing bowls

A whisk (maybe a spatula as well)

A medium saute pan

*Save your 1/4 cup measuring cup to ladle out pancake batter

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Mix dry ingredients in one bowl with a whisk.  I don’t use a sifter as I feel whisking the components together evenly distributes them as well as gets rid of any possible lumps.  Also, I don’t own a sifter.

Mix wet ingredients together in another bowl.  Add the dry ingredients to the wet.  I do this in two increments.  Mix together till combined.  Using your whisk to do this is fine, but if you’re worried about over mixing and can’t bear doing this without a spatula (my mother is one of those people), then grab a spatula.

Add about 2 tablespoons of olive oil to your medium saute pan, just enough to coat the surface.  Today I used my “super huge,” (yes, that’s an official term) fry pan, and perhaps overdid it with 5 tablespoons (I was singing along to Coldplay, I can’t be held accountable with the turmoils of multi-tasking).  But you know what?  It was still delicious.  So do what you want.

Heat the saute pan on medium heat.  When the oil starts to shimmer, scoop up a 1/4 cup of pancake batter.  Trying not to overcrowd the pan (I have “Martha” moments and don’t like to see my pancakes touching/fusing), scoop out as many 1/4 cup portions that will fit.  (In the “super huge,” this is three, in my medium sized saute pan, it’s only two.)  When the pancake batter starts to bubble, add the slices of banana.  I can fit about 6 – 9 slices per pancake.

When the bubbles of the pancakes get quite large and the edges begin to set (or you can cheat and peak underneath to see how brown the pancake is getting in the oil), flip the pancake.  I have to say that the larger the bubbles get, the easier the flipping is.  Also, it takes me about 6 pancakes in (which is sad because this recipe only makes 9) for me to gain the confidence to flip the pancake quickly enough so that it doesn’t turn into a amoeboid-pancake (or worse, looks like Java the Hut’s cousin…it happens).  Thankfully Roo never judges and eats the ugly pancakes.  Yes, boys usually don’t care, especially when it comes to caramelized bananas (…and carbs).

I’ll admit that I’ve flipped the pancakes (in lack of patience) to get them to that right amount of doneness that I want.  I have yet to see the pancake deflate because of this.  If I really was Martha Stewart, I’d probably discourage you from this, emphasizing “must,” and cutting at the air with my spatula saying, “not,” but I’m not Martha.  Make these pancakes in your pre-coffee state the way you want them.

When your pancakes are fully cooked, repeat adding the pancake batter to the pan, with the rest of what’s in your bowl.

You may find that you’ll have to add a bit more olive oil with every batch.  That’s ok, whatever it takes to prevent your pancakes from sticking to the pan.

Lastly, Roo and I have found that these pancakes do not need maple syrup.  But, before you call me un-American, give it a try.

Caramelized Cayenne Onion Pizza

At the beginning of May I started to freak out about the impending doom of turning 30.  Something inside of me felt like I needed change.  There was this desire to get out of the comfortable sloth that I had grown used to.  I wanted the athleticism I had when I was going to yoga nearly everyday.

One thing my mother told me in my early twenties was, “A lot of single people are skinny because they want to get laid.”  (My mother is very open.)  At the time I shrugged it off, but recently, especially when I have to dress for an evening out, I find myself remembering what she said.  In the past couple of months, I’ve gone from walking to Harvard Square for a yoga class every night after work, to sporadically going during my lunch break once I moved in with Roo, to making dinner after work and watching three hours of Netflix every night.

The only conclusion I’ve made from this is that I’m happy.  Because I’m happy, I cook.  As a colleague once mentioned to another about me, “she must really be in love because all she does now is cook.”

When Roo and I had a major argument back in October, I had no desire to go into the kitchen.  Making something for dinner that night was especially painful, because the normalcy of Roo coming in while I’m cooking to say “that smells delicious,” or try to grab whatever was simmering, didn’t happen.  Strangely enough, without that positive reinforcement of cooking for someone that I cared for, made me uncomfortable, and almost unbearable, to be working in the kitchen.

I am not saying that every person who’s in a happy relationship gains weight.  Nor am I saying that all singles are “skinny bitches.”  This is just what I’ve observed for myself.  Roo and I have both gained weight since we’ve moved in together.  I’ve gained about ten pounds, and I think Roo has gained maybe twenty.  And I’ll admit, when I first moved in with Roo, I may have gone overboard.  I was so happy to be living with him in our apartment, that all I wanted was to be in the kitchen and bake “breakfast cakes,” crusty loaves of bread, brown pancetta in a pan, and sear scallops in butter (mmm butter) – popping them into my mouth as soon as they caramelized.

But with that love of butter (and other not-so-good-for-you things) came on the high cholesterol numbers for Roo, and a couple pounds for both of us to carry around as well.  I don’t think it helped that Roo has a habit of eating until he feels almost sick, and I go back to the kitchen to grab a slice of cake to have with tea around 9 at night, even though I’m full.

I feel as if this blog is at a crossroads.  I wanted to fill it with a lot of the recipes (mostly baked goods) I’ve made over the past year, but now I feel as if it’s in the upswing of trying to be healthy.  I don’t want it to be a “health food blog,” but as of late, my recipes have been technically healthier.  I guess where I’m trying to steer it now is making food that’s delicious but not laden with butter, eggs, or cream.  I still want it to be known for wholesome ingredients, without chemical substitutions.

So with that, dear reader (ie Me), I have a recipe that I absolutely adore that is a great replacement for the original. I love, I mean, love Alsatian Pizza.

A pizza with a cream base and caramelized onions and bacon?!?  Amazing.  But with a couple adjustments, this pizza is one that I make probably once a month for Roo and I, and I love it even more than the original.  It has the heat that I always desire with every dish (I’m addicted) and just lots and lots of caramelized onions.  Perhaps more than any recipe has suggested, but I don’t care!

Give me those onions!

Adapted from Food and Wine

For One Medium Pizza (about the size of a pizza stone, sometimes if I stretch it out really thin, it hangs off of the stone)

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Ingredients

Pizza Dough *You can use the no-knead recipe from Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois that I adore (halve it for two medium – by American standards – thin crust pizzas).  If you intend to use all the dough (from the half recipe), you can double the ingredients below (or freeze the second half for later use).  Whole Foods (under $2!) hasn’t let me down for any dinner parties I’ve thrown where I just didn’t have the time to make my own.  Their pizza dough is also enough for two medium very thin crust pizzas.*

2 – 3 large onions thinly sliced into rounds (I love caramelized onions!)

1 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper (I love heat.  If you don’t, start small, maybe a 1/4 teaspoon.  And if you’re really nervous, 1/8.  But I think you should try!)

3 tablespoons olive oil

1/4 cup sour cream (I used low fat)

1/4 cup ricotta (I used part skim)

salt to taste (I used Diamond Fine Sea Salt)

Flour (to work with the dough)

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Equipment

A sharp knife

1 small bowl

1 medium – large sauté pan

A spatula

A pizza stone (You can use a baking sheet)

Parchment paper (or a pizza peel)

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Set the pizza stone/baking sheet on the oven rack in the middle of the oven.  Preheat the oven to at least 450F (I crank it up as high as our’s will go without broiling, ~500F).

In a small bowl, mix the ricotta and sour cream together with a spatula, until somewhat smooth.  Add salt to taste.  Set aside.  *If you want super smooth, I would recommend doing this in a food processor, but it’s not necessary.  Really.*

Add the olive oil to a medium – large sauté pan and turn the burned on to a medium-high heat.  When the oil starts to shimmer, add the onions, ground cayenne pepper and salt to taste.  Always be sure to taste what you’re making, and it’s especially important here.  These are the main part of the pizza and you’re going to want to love them.  Start with a little cayenne, cook the onions down a bit.  Taste it.  Is it hot enough?  Or in my case, not hot enough?

Cook the onions until caramelized, about nine minutes (it may be more or less with your oven burner, so keep an eye on it), stirring occasionally.  When golden brown and practically melting (you’ll get it once you see it), remove from heat and set aside.

Place a square of parchment paper about the size of your pizza stone (or baking sheet) down on your working surface.  Throw a bit of flour onto the parchment paper, and then your dough.  Stretching out the dough with your hands, trying to make it as large and as thin as possible.  I’ll admit I’ve grabbed the rolling pin when I just don’t have the patience to stretch out the dough by hand.  Yes, I said it.

When the pizza reaches your desired thickness, spread the ricotta and sour cream mixture over the dough.  Some people like a definite border so that they can see a crust.  Do what you like, this is your pizza!  Sometimes I forget to have a crust.  It’s true.

Add the onions over the ricotta and sour cream mixture.  I like to add it in little mounds, so that every bite is a super spicy sweet bite.  But, again, this is your pizza, spread them out thinly if you want.

Open the oven, and then taking the parchment paper (or using your peel to sweep up the pizza), place it on your pizza stone (parchment and all)/baking sheet.

*I’ve never baked a pizza on a baking sheet, but my worry would be that if you’re not using parchment paper, that the dough may stick.  Try adding some olive oil onto a paper towel and very carefully (preferably with an oven gloved hand) wipe the oil onto the hot baking sheet, and then set the dough onto it.*

I like a very brown crust, and at ~500F it takes about ten minutes to get there.  If you’re baking at 450, it should be golden brown at around twelve minutes.  But, as usual, keep an eye on it.  My oven is incredibly small, and runs really hot, so your oven may make me into a liar.

I do like at the five minute marker to remove the parchment paper from underneath the pizza, just yanking it out like the old school magic trick of removing a table cloth from under a set table.  I’m convinced that the direct contact with the stone makes the crust crispier, but I’ve never left the parchment paper in to be proven otherwise.

Olive Oil Banana Cake with Bittersweet Chocolate

I never want to move to Suburbia.

It’s one of the many statements I’ve made to Roo, in reaction to our progression as a couple.  Thankfully he feels the same way I do – we will not be living on the end of a cul de sac or within a family compound.

I love the city.  Which is strange because I remember growing up in the suburbs, absolutely loving that a mere ten minute drive from my house was a horseback riding farm where I spent more time there than at school or my parents’ house combined.  I loved that there was an apple orchard down the road from my house, and we could go ride our horses down those fields, grabbing a few snacks off of those trees whenever we cut through.  And on occasion, we’d see deer or wild turkeys in my parents’ backyard (one year the turkeys got so bold that they were attacking children in our neighborhood and the housewives banded together to get the local news to report on it).

So, what happened?

I honestly can’t say when I came to the decision that I would only live in two extremes, city or absolute rural life, but I have a feeling it had to do with a previous long term relationship.  Coming out of that, I was convinced I would remain single for the rest of my life; perhaps going mad enough to run around the house screaming about wire hangers or making my apartment into a cat zoo.  But I knew it would not be in the suburbs, where I was previously spending all my time with that ex, thinking of marriage, buying a house, having 2.5 children and a black lab named Boss, thus, wanting to keep up with the Joneses.

Unfortunately this weekend I realized that no matter where you go, there still may be a suburban mentality lurking around the very corner from where you live.

I moved in with Roo, about eight months ago, into an apartment on a main road in Boston.  Living in the city does have some cons, and one of them is on-street parking.  We, like the rest of the residents in our neighborhood, are lucky enough that we have free on-street parking (most require permits), but sometimes there aren’t enough spots available on our actual street.  A lot of the time I park on the side road next to us, as it also doesn’t require a permit.

About two weeks ago, my junky car that I’ve been debating donating to charity or not (because to fix it would be more than the car is actually worth) got a flat.  And, as I love procrastination, I left it in that spot until this past weekend.  Originally I was going to have the tow truck fix the tire and then take it back to my parents’ house as I finally decided to just donate it (yes, let it be the parents’ problem) last Friday, but it was nearly 100F outside. I felt guilty about having someone come over in that heat to work on my car.

The following morning, I woke up early to call AAA.  About an hour later the tow truck arrived.  After walking up the hill to meet up with him, I was surprised to find a neon green sticker affixed to my driver side window.  It read: Abandoned Vehicle Report.

At first I was confused.  My car was never “abandoned,’ as I lived less than five houses from where I parked it.  But as the tow truck driver got out, it all became clear.

One man ran over from the other side of the hill to ask if the tow truck driver was there to tow a car that he had reported, back on his side of the street.  The tow truck driver replied that I had called him myself, and that he was with AAA.  Then, as the driver started asking me what was wrong with my car, I saw people start to gather across the street.  Four, yes four adults, two of them senior men, another middle aged, and one housewife, had congregated across from where I stood and started to talk amongst each other, pointing at me, my car, and the tow truck.  It was obvious what had happened.

Boston’s version of suburbia had reported my car as abandoned.

All I could do was be happy that it wasn’t the city coming to tow my car away (much to the group’s disappointment, judging by the looks on their faces), but AAA.

Needless to say, after my car was taken away, I came stomping back down the hill in a sort of a rage.  Well, maybe not a rage, but definitely wanting to pull my own hair out.

It was nearly lunchtime when I came back to the apartment, half starved and half, let’s say, crazed.  Not wanting a sandwich, I flipped open my laptop and scanned through some of the blogs that I subscribe to.  I wanted cake.  But not a sugar filled, frosting laden, birthday type, but an excuse to eat cake for breakfast.  You know, “breakfast cake.”  Thankfully Melissa Clark’s website had a recipe made with both bittersweet chocolate, bananas, and olive oil.  A little sweet, and supposedly healthy, to make me feel better for surviving my first urban-suburbia experience.

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Adapted, a little, from Melissa Clark

As you can see in this photo I went overboard with the bittersweet chocolate (1 cup).  The following recipe has been toned down a bit.  Also, I’ve tried making this with just dried cranberries (1/2 cup) and it was fantastic, and may try it next time with even more.

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Ingredients

Wet

2 egg whites (or you can use 2 whole large eggs)

2 cups very (VERY) ripe bananas (I used four practically black large bananas)

1/3 cup olive oil

heaping 1/4 cup plain greek yogurt (I used 2%)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Dry

1/2 cup all purpose flour

1 1/2 cup whole wheat flour (I like to push the limits of whole wheat in my recipes.  If you would like a less “wheaty” flavor, I would suggest using 1 cup all purpose flour and 1 cup of whole wheat flour as Melissa Clark dictates.)

1/2 cup cane sugar (I used practically black bananas.  If you like a very sweet cake, feel free to use more sugar)

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/8 teaspoon fine sea salt (I use Diamond)

1/2 cup bittersweet chocolate (I used Ghiradelli 60% chips)

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Equipment

1 large mixing bowl

1 small mixing bowl (can hold up to 3 cups of ingredients)

whisk

spatula

parchment paper (optional, but useful)

9 inch by 5 inch loaf pan

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Move the oven rack to the middle position and preheat the oven to 350F.  Butter and flour your loaf pan, or line it with parchment paper.

In a large mixing bowl, whisk the egg whites (or eggs) with the olive oil, yogurt and vanilla extract.  It’s going to look like an oily mess, but keep going until it all comes together.

In a small mixing bowl, mix all the dry ingredients (all purpose, whole wheat flour, sugar, baking soda, salt) together with a whisk till combined.  There is no need to sift, well, at least I didn’t find a need to.  Add the bittersweet chocolate to the dry ingredients and stir to combine.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients, in at least two increments.  After each increment, mix till just combined with a spatula, being sure to scrape the bottom of the bowl.

Pour, or more like, scoop with a spatula (the batter is quite thick), the batter into the loaf pan.  Spread the top out evenly with a spatula, and then tap the pan against a table to knock the air bubbles out.  Put the loaf pan in the oven and bake for 50 to 60 minutes.  Because ovens vary, I would say use a cake tester (knife, toothpick, whatever) to see if the cake is done at the 45 minute mark.  There should be some crumbs hanging onto the tester, but definitely not wet batter.  If you see wet batter, when you pull the tester out from the middle, put the cake back in the oven and wait another 3 – 5 minutes.

I will say that this cake is definitely not as good out of the oven versus being cooled completely.  You will (probably) only hear me say that once, as I can (as I’ve stated multiple times) never wait for the cake to cool before eating.  What I absolutely love about this cake is that it tastes even better the next day.  To me it tasted even more bananaie.  Yes, I’m making that a word.