Brown butter raspberry tart

While I'd argue that the best things about blogging are 1) being creative and 2) the free cookbooks you get for review, following closely at third is giving the world a glimpse of your perspective on food and life. And, in turn, getting a snapshot of other people's angle.

When I first started The Hungry Dog, it wasn't intended to be about food. However, it quickly became apparent that I had nothing else to talk about. At the time, I didn't read food blogs, but once I got sucked in, I began reading a lot of them. Too many, in fact, and I got overloaded. Now I just read a handful that I really like. Some I read because they have beautiful photography, or great recipes. Some are friends of mine. Most I read because I like the voice behind the blog. Perhaps because my background is as a writer and not a cook, this seems to be the most compelling reason to pluck one blog from the millions.

One of my favorites is Cook, a oui chef journal. I like the look of Connie's site, which is elegant and more artful than mine. As a trained chef, she often has useful professional advice (like how to go about choosing knives). And, I think she strikes a nice balance between writing about food in a general sense and giving a peek into her specific world.

When I saw that she made this gorgeous brown butter rhubarb tart last month, I put it immediately on my to-make list. But by the time I got around to it, I had raspberries on hand, so I decided to go with the original recipe, which is from Bon Appetit.

This is a lovely tart, extremely simple, and worth making while either berries or rhubarb are in season. It's truly not difficult: even the crust you just press into the pan. For those of you who are as crust-impaired as I am, this is a dream come true. And for something so easy, it looks more than a little bit impressive.

Fancy spaghetti and meatballs

As you may know, I have a love-hate relationship with Giada de Laurentiis. I use and like many of her recipes, as evidenced by this blog (I'm sure a search of The Hungry Dog would result in at least 15 of her recipes, maybe more). However, I dislike her for being so much better than me in every single way. This is a good example of my immaturity.

Usually, though, she makes stuff I want to eat. Hunger trumps pettiness in this house. So when I  saw her make a fancy version of bucatini alla amatriciana during an episode she filmed with her Aunt Rafi (who, incidentally, I'd like to be related to), I knew it was going on my to-try list.

Giada took a basic recipe amatriciana recipe (a staple in our house, though I use a Marcella Hazan recipe, tweaked) and as my little niece Scrappy would say, "kicked it up a nacho." She put together some delicious and simple meatballs, stuffed them with mozzarella, and served them alongside the pasta amatriciana.

This is a very good idea. While I did make some minor adjustments--I swapped pork for the veal; doubled the amount of crushed tomatoes; and used plain mozzarella instead of smoked--the overall concept is spectacular. And although it's a little more work than just making amatriciana, it's a whole lot more exciting.

The only other adjustment I'll make next time is to use spaghetti--or rigatoni maybe-- instead of bucatini. Although it's traditional with this sauce, I've always found bucatini hard to eat. The husband agreed, although he seemed happily distracted by the savory little meatballs oozing mozzarella into the spicy tomato-and-bacon sauce.

Clearly, this is not a sauce for the vegetarian. Or even for those who don't eat pork. While I think the meatballs would be delicious with ground chicken or turkey, I can't imagine a good amatriciana without pancetta or bacon. I mean, that's just tomato sauce.

It'd be hard to not to love a big bowl of this pasta, especially if you're enjoying it on a windy friday night with your sweetie and a good bottle of Chianti. In fact, I'm certain nothing trumps that.

Cobb Salad, discovered

While generally I don't consider using recipes for salads--who needs to be told how many radishes they like or what type of lettuce they prefer?--once in a blue moon, I'll do it.

Such an occasion arose last Sunday, which you may recall was Mother's Day. While considering what to make for the celebratory lunch, I contemplated and nixed a variety of ideas: a savory tart; a light-ish seafood pasta; a creamy soup with some kind of fancy sandwich.

None of these seemed quite right, and as I dithered about what to make and the hours slipped away, I eventually came across this appealing recipe for Cobb Salad over at Smitten Kitchen.

Since I'd already determined the lunch would include dessert (the so-so strawberry shortcake), I wanted an entree that was satisfying but not heavy. We had the rest of the afternoon to soldier through, after all, during which I planned on torturing my mother with hundreds of photographs from our trip. I wanted an alert audience! (For the record, she sat through them patiently, even asking questions and oohing and aahing at all the right moments. What a mom!)

Cobb Salad was just the ticket. And while I've eaten many in my lifetime, I've never made one. Turns out they are spectacularly easy, though do require a number of steps and quite a bit of chopping.

I made a few minor adjustments: adding more lemon juice to the vinaigrette (my taste nearly always runs to the bitter or sour; I hate to think what this might say about my personality?); and ditching the watercress for some green leaf lettuce I had on hand (watercress would have been excellent, but I'd already purchased two kinds of lettuce for this salad, and for some reason, this was my self-imposed limit).

Although the original recipe called for serving the salad in one magnificent bowl, I knew this was not the way I would want to be served a main-course salad. I imagined all of us trying to delicately serve ourselves while trying to ensure we got some of everything. Meanwhile, I envisioned wasted crumbles of blue cheese and bacon bits overflowing onto the tablecloth. Instead, I opted to dress all the greens together, then dish up the salads separately, with the toppings arranged on each one as artfully as I could manage. I brought extra dressing to the table, which we all used.

I have to say, the salad was an indisputable hit. Quality ingredients make the difference, of course, since there's little skill involved in assembly. I had just roasted a chicken the day before was able to use that rather than a simple poached breast (which I would have done otherwise but would not have been nearly as flavorful), we had a perfectly ripe avocado on hand from our CSA box, and the husband had chosen a heavenly blue cheese from Marin.  With crusty bread and glasses of Prosecco,  it was a lunch more than worth the (minimal) effort.