Hungry Dog stew with gremolata

I finally learned how to make beef stew.

I mean, I've made it many times before, sometimes with recipes and sometimes not. Using recipes, I always felt like I was missing out on the real fun of making stew--not being beholden to a list of ingredients and directions, instead stirring and seasoning and simmering and tasting. But recently I've made it twice, just winging it, and it's turned out just right.

My method is basic, with amounts varying to taste:

Toss some cubes of beef with salt and pepper and a light dusting of flour. Brown them in a big pot with some oil and remove. Add some finely chopped celery, onion, and garlic and let soften. Add some wine to deglaze and let simmer, briefly. Return the meat to the pot with juices and add chicken or beef broth, chopped canned tomatoes, salt, and pepper. Cover and put in the oven at 350 for about 2 hours, stirring once or twice. About 20 minutes before it's done, add chunks of carrots, and little frozen pearl onions if you'd like. At the very end, toss in a handful of frozen peas. Season to taste.

I made the Hungry Dog stew over the weekend, half of which was nice and half of which was rainy. I made the stew on the rainy day. Out our back window it looked like this.

I could look at the Pacific Ocean all day. I fear we'll never be able to leave this apartment because of that view. Who doesn't want to wake up and look at the ocean? On a clear day it takes your breath away. Even on a rainy day it's not so bad.

As the stew simmered snugly in its Le Creuset, I considered something to brighten it. While I love braises and stews, sometimes they can seem a little heavy. A long-cooked dish can benefit from something sunny and sharp. A fresh herb, squeeze of lemon, or splash of vinegar can sometimes do the trick, but in this case I decided to make gremolata.

Gremolata is simply minced parsley, raw garlic, and lemon zest. I'd never made it before but it took about two minutes. I found a recipe that called for three garlic cloves, a quarter cup of parsley, and the zest of one lemon, peeled with a vegetable peeler--all finely chopped together.

Once the stew was dished up over buttered egg noodles, I sprinkled it with the gremolata. The gremolata made the stew sing. The deep, muted flavors of the stew from long simmering came to life under the pungent and citrusy notes of the garlic and lemon.

Perfect for a rainy night.

Salmon bulgogi, and something new

Sometimes I'm attracted to weird recipes. Like this one for Salmon Bulgogi. It sounded curious. Salmon what?

Just kidding. I know a little about bulgogi. Usually it's made with beef. But I was in the mood for some nice healthy salmon--omega 3, y'all!-- so I decided to give it a whirl.

I changed a few things, of course.

The temperature seemed too high, for one thing. 500 for 8 minutes! I'm not looking to serve salmon chips for dinner. And since I didn't have center-cut fillets but tail pieces, I knew it would cook faster anyway. So I reduced the heat to 450 and cooked the fillets for 6 minutes. For my taste, they were still overcooked, but for a normal person, like the husband, they were just right. I like my fish pretty much raw, though, so you have to take what I say and adjust it.

I also doctored up the veggies with some ginger and mirin, and served the whole thing over rice. I'm half Chinese, and Chinese people can't eat fish and stir-fried vegetables straight up. That's just not right.

Final verdict? Bright and flavorful, with a kick. I'd like a little more of a sauce--next time I might turn the glaze into one. The husband is less sauce-happy than me and liked it just the way it was.  Definitely something I'll do again --next time maybe with beef or chicken.

One last thing, but not about the bulgogi. I started a new blog. "What the what?!" you're saying. Yeah. I had this idea, so I'm trying it out. It's not about food, if you can believe it. I decided I wanted to start noticing things a bit more thoughtfully--sometimes small, pedestrian things strike me but I quickly forget about them. Having an iPhone is a nifty way of capturing these moments, and reminding you about them later.  I want to fit a little more creativity into my daily life, and I suppose that's the gist of this new blog: observe, capture, reflect.

It's a tiny baby newborn blog, so be kind. You can find it here.

Cauliflower soup with crispy bacon and chives

At this point, you know soup is a fallback dinner for me. All you really need is one vegetable you can make the star. If you happen to have some leeks on hand, and homemade chicken stock, both of which I did yesterday, so much the better. And if you have an immersion blender, as Jamie Oliver would say, you're laughing.

The base of this soup was some cauliflower from our CSA box. I'd recently seen this post at Serious Eats for cauliflower cheddar soup and it had gotten stuck in my head; unfortunately, I didn't have the right kind of cheese. Cauliflower leek soup would have to do.

I still wanted to do something special, though. So I crisped up some bacon, removed it from the pan, and sauteed the leeks, potato (another non-necessity but great addition to any pureed soup), and cauliflower in the leftover fat. Plus a little butter. Oh, come on now. You know I don't keep a kosher kitchen.

When the soup was pureed, splashed with cream, and well-seasoned, I ladled it into these fabulous new soup and sammie sets my sister recently sent me as a cheer-up gift. One of the upsides of being mopey is that people make very kind efforts to lift your spirits.

It worked! I love these sets. Thanks, Jen!

"Hey Hungry Dog," you're saying, "that ain't no freakin' sandwich."

True. I did have some bread in the house but it was a few days old--not sandwich material. So I made some crunchy croutons to serve alongside the soup. This is actually one of my favorite ways to eat soup, and now I have the perfect soup-and-crouton vessel. This way you can add the croutons as you like and they don't get soggy. And making croutons is a wonderful way to use up slightly stale bread.

Now let's talk about the soup.

Creamy and smooth, with a double onion hit from the leeks and chives, undernotes of smoky bacon, with bacony bits adding texture and saltiness to each mouthful. Perfection. I'm sorry to sound braggy, but this soup rocked.

It's hard to garner as much enthusiasm from the husband about soups; he likes them fine and will eat every last drop, but ultimately I don't think he values a good soup the way I do. To me, a homemade soup can be delicious, satisfying, healthy (um, maybe not this one), and thrifty all at once. What more could you want?