Spring risotto, with asparagus, fava beans, and prosciutto

You might remember from my first post that I do not like to waste food, which can lead delicious but occasionally dubious combinations of ingredients. I can persevere through an imperfect dish, though, if it means I've salvaged some lettuce tottering on the brink of the compost bin, or used up the last two pieces of bacon.

Most of the time I like to think that I have enough cooking experience to make up a decent dish on a whim--certainly something that can be eaten good-naturedly by me and the husband while watching last night's Daily Show as the other hungry dog sits two inches from my knee, smiling her hot little smile and waiting for something, anything to drop. This is most often our dining ambiance during the week, and I'm willing to bet that at least one person reading this (assuming there is at least one?) has a similar routine.

Last night while mulling over the dinner options I noticed half an onion; a small handful of fava beans from last week's produce box; and an open bottle of pinot grigio, past the drinking stage but suitable (in my house, anyway) for cooking. Ta da! Spring risotto. Who knew that leftover bits and pieces could lead to such a satisfying dinner and delightful photo op?

One pot, one chicken

Last night I was feeling ambitious and decided to make something fancy for a weeknight. I liked the idea of braising so I decided to make this Chicken in Riesling, which I'd spotted in Gourmet over a year ago. There are people that remember sports scores from seasons past, and those that can rattle off lines from movies--I am neither. But, I do get recipes lodged in my brain, and even though it might take me a long time, I usually get around to them.

The chicken turned out great, although it was not the 1-hour commitment the recipe promised. It took about an hour and half from start to finish. But it was worth it! First of all, I love a dinner that comes together in one pot. Second, the smell of chicken browning in my Le Creuset can smooth the roughest edge of the crummiest Monday. Throw in some butter, leeks that simply melt the longer they cook, and you're halfway there. And, carrots. Have I mentioned how I feel about carrots? Along with celery, they are one of my favorite vegetables. All this, along with a bit of Riesling, goes into the oven and simmers snugly away for 25 minutes. And, just to gild the lily, you add heavy cream at the very end.

As it turns out, I did not take any photographs of the completed dish. I guess I'm not as on top of it as some of these other food bloggers who take photographs at every step. And by the time I'm done cooking whatever it is I'm making, I want to eat it, not bumble around with my camera.

However, I do have a lovely photograph of the carrots, in all their glory.

Not all tomatoes are created equal

Even though it wasn't at all cold last night, I was still in the mood to make something cozy. While roast chicken tends to be the default Sunday night dinner in our house, sometimes you must break from tradition. I decided to make baked ziti.

I clipped this recipe from the Chronicle during the frenzy of "The Sopranos" a few years back, when people were having Sunday night Soprano parties and whipping up Carmela's ricotta pie and bragiole. Well, the Sopranos are long gone, but am I ever glad I cut out a hokey-sounding recipe entitled, "Baked Ziti, Soprano-Style."

I'm sure I've made this recipe 50 times. Everyone loves it, and it never fails. It's your classic baked pasta--tomato sauce with sweet Italian sausage, wine, and oregano--tossed with pasta, creamy ricotta, parmesan, and baked until the mozzarella on top is bubbly and golden. With a crisp green salad, you'd be hard-pressed to find a more satisfying dinner.

Last night I got the water boiling, the oven heating, and began throwing together the sauce, which calls for canned, whole, peeled tomatoes. For a number of years, I've bought canned tomatoes at Trader Joe's. They were inexpensive and decent, which seems to be the criteria TJ's aims for and consumers expect, including me. When it comes to certain ingredients, particularly those of the canned, dried, or boxed variety, I've often adhered to the Gertrude Stein philosophy: a canned tomato is a canned tomato.

But, it turns out this is not true. Not all canned tomatoes are created equal. Recently, the tomatoes from TJ's have been inedible. I've opened several cans and they all revealed hard and lumpy tomatoes, with yellow-green ends, and slippery skins that never seemed to break down no matter long I let a sauce bubble away.

I was reminded of this last night, and poked around the pantry for an alternative. I had some Muir Glen tomatoes, which I busted out and discovered were even worse than the TJ ones--they looks as if they'd been chewed up and spit back out in the can. I chucked them all into the compost bin.

Thank goodness, perhaps in a prescient moment, at some point I'd decided to buy a can of the San Marzano tomatoes everyone keeps raving about. They sat on the shelf for a long time. I looked at the can skeptically last night. At $4.65/can, I thought, these better blow me away. Once opened, I peered in and found myself looking at perfectly-oval, unmarred, dark red tomatoes. I almost wanted to eat one right then, but resisted, because let's face it, that's weird. Once in the pan, they broke down fully with no help from the back of my spoon. After ten minutes of simmering, the sauce had dark, complex, tomato-y essence. They are, without a doubt, the most delicious canned tomatoes I have tasted. As a result, it was quite possibly the best rendition of this baked ziti I have ever made. I suggest you give them a try.