Bad mood blondies

On Thursday, someone smashed the rear window of our car. It was parked at the train station and the husband discovered it in dismay at the end of the work day. Nothing was taken, because we leave nothing in the car, which you can tell very plainly from the outside. So whoever did it just to do it.

Frankly, what I find most offensive of all is that the window was smashed not just with any bottle but with a San Pellegrino bottle. Perhaps it was one of the many BMW-drivers who also parks there, someone so repulsed by our car's weathered exterior they had to hurl their sparkling Italian water bottle through the glass. I won't lie to you: it's a 1990 Honda Civic with some serious battle scars. But hideous enough to merit an attack? Not even close.

Anyhow, the incident put me in a bad mood. I'm not a perfect person, but I try to be decent and considerate and not break other people's stuff. But I guess there are plenty of jerks out there looking to steal and vandalize things that belong to someone else just for the thrill of it. It's the kind of small event that can make me feel very down on the human race.

My tactic for occurrences like this it to try not to think about it. It's the old ostrich maneuver, which in plenty of cases is not a good thing (say, when it comes to your job, your relationships, your health) but in certain cases is very appropriate. When you cannot change something and could not have prevented it, you gotta keep on rolling.

Distracting yourself helps. So I decided to bake up some blondies. I love making blondies because they come together in a flash and create hardly any dishes. Plus I love that faintly burnt smell that you get when you blend melted butter and brown sugar.

These are from Mark Bittman. He says chocolate chips are optional, but who are we kidding? Of course, with a whole cup of chips in such a small batch, calling them blondies might be pushing it. But as you know from reading this blog, I'm no purist. I'm of the "do what you like" school of thought and this week, sweet, sticky, melty, chocolate blondies fit the bill.

Lemony snapper with buttered beets and carrots

Unlike professional chefs, we home cooks can make what we want when we want--even if the combinations seem surprising. I'm not trying to imply that I'm the most creative girl on the block. But I do sometimes get an idea about something and it's nice to have the freedom and solitude of your own kitchen to experiment.

The other night I wanted to do something with the beets and carrots sitting idly in the crisper. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but I'm nuts for carrots. And I like beets pretty well too. I began to envision a little...dare I say medley? of these two Crayola-colored vegetables, smothered in butter.

I boiled the beets first--undercooked beets are the worst--then cooled and peeled them. Once the butter foamed and faded in my frying pan, I added the carrots, cooking them over medium heat. After awhile I added the beets. Feeling froggy, I decided to add a little brown sugar, thinking my southern husband might enjoy a little added sweetness. But to balance it, I finished the dish with a splash of red wine vinegar. No need to be cloying.

Once done, they looked like bright little gems, and they tasted of butter and sugar, with a slight tanginess.

"But Hungry Dog," you're wondering, "surely you served more than just vegetables for dinner!"

Why of course, dear reader, don't be silly. I pan-fried two red snapper fillets and squeezed fresh lemon juice over them as they came off the heat. I never can get fish like snapper browned properly without dusting it first in flour, which I didn't feel like doing this time, so the fish ended up a little pale. It tasted good, though, and looked pretty with the sweet and sour beets and carrots.

So, it was a strange combination that wouldn't fly with Tom Colicchio, but he's not invited over anyway. It seems the whole point of cooking for yourself and your loved ones is to have a good time, and to try and learn something now and then. Which I did indeed.

The colors of summer

Although San Franciscans are largely deprived of good summer weather (as I write this, our heat is on and I'm wearing wool socks), we do enjoy good summer produce. Scratch that: we enjoy great summer produce. The vibrant shades of red, yellow, and green that have been appearing in our produce box recently have put me in a salad kind of mood.

The fact that these salads often accompany wintery dishes doesn't bother me. Last week I made a cheery tomato and cucumber salad to go alongside a roasted pork loin and creamy grits. The salad provided a dash of brightness to an otherwise muted palette.

To everyone's delight, over the weekend, we had one day of startling heat, up into the 90s. We'd invited our friend Alby over for dinner and I was a bit undecided on what to make. Most of what I cook is rather cozy, since the weather year-round allows for it. On the few hot days we enjoy each year, I never know what to make; apparently my cooking style is very reliant on the oven, as well as on boiling pots of pasta water. Our infrequent heat waves shed light on why people in other parts of the country (and state) grill during the summertime.

Unfortunately, we have no grill and a backyard that is tough to get to anyway--you must go down some rickety stairs and through the garage, shimmying by the cars parked tandem-style. It's not conducive to a laid-back BBQ. So I decided to make one of my go-to company dishes, chicken roasted with cherry tomatoes, honey, and rosemary.

This dish requires the oven for about half an hour. I figured I should do everyone a favor and minimize the heat for everything else I was going to make.

Using a vegetable peeler, I made ribbons out of zucchini and yellow squash, tossed them with a bit of salt, then set them in a colander to drain for about 5 minutes. Then I rinsed and dried them gently in a kitchen towel.

I composed a dressing of rice vinegar, canola oil, lemon juice, dijon, sugar, salt and pepper. Then I tossed the squash with the dressing, throwing in some lemon cucumbers and chives.

The result was a very pretty and refreshing salad, if I do say so myself, and a hit at the dinner table. And to my surprise the leftovers survived a night in the fridge and were a good accompaniment to our sandwiches the next day for lunch (fried egg for the husband, roast pork for me). I suggest you try a little zucchini ribbon salad for yourself, while the vegetable is in season and some people's gardens overflow with it. It was quite delicious.