April 6th. Caramelized Chocolate Covered Matzohs. Marinated Tuna.

Another day of left-overs and waiting--not sure when the car would be ready. .
Salad and the rest of last night's frittata for lunch.
Inspired by Sam's culinary efforts last night, humbled by the realization that I myself had never made caramelized chocolate covered matzohs.
I remember occasional boxes of chocolate covered matzohs appearing when I was a child, but they were never that exciting.  Years later, when Sarah was in college and invited to seders on her own, she reported that she would make a delicious crowd-pleasing chocolate covered matzoh, but as we haven't had a seder together in years, I'd never sampled them.   Spurred on by the possession of six un-opened boxes of matzoh, I decided that with no seder obligations of my own, my personal seder meal would revolve around chocolate and brown sugar.

A quick internet search led me to Marcy Goldman the creator of caramelized chocolate covered matzohs (how had the brown sugar and butter component escaped me?)

Here's my variation.
4-6 sheets matzoh
1 cup unsalted butter
1 cup packed brown sugar (I used dark)
pinch of salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup chocolate chips (I used a mix of semi-sweet and bittersweet)
1 cup toasted pecan bits (or any nut of your preference, or none)

Preheat the oven to 350.
Line a large jelly roll pan with aluminum foil--rolling the foil up around the edges.  Top the foil with parchment paper.  There is a lot of stickiness in this recipe and at clean-up time you'll be glad you took what might seem like excessive precautions.
Cover the sheet with whole pieces of matzoh.  Fill in the empty spaces with smaller pieces.  The whole sheet should be covered with one layer of matzoh.
Melt the butter and brown sugar together in a heavy duty saucepan over medium heat stirring constantly.  When it starts boiling, continue stirring and cook for another three minutes.  Remove from heat, stir in the salt and vanilla and pour over the matzoh, spreading it evenly with a spoon or spatula.
Put the pan in the top of the oven and cook for about fifteen minutes.  It should bubble merrily, but not burn--keep peeking to make sure all is well--if it appears to be burning, lower the heat.
Remove from the oven and immediately cover with the chocolate.  Let the chocolate melt for about five minutes, then spread evenly.  You can then sprinkle it with coarsely chopped toasted nuts (I used pecans) or some fancy salt.
Cool completely (you may have to put it in fridge or freezer)--then cut or break into pieces.  Store in air-tight container.

That was my seder prep.  Jack called around 4pm--the car was fixed.  I took the green Culver City bus from Windward Circle--admired new bumper, now minus faded Obama 2008 sticker, and drove immediately to Trader Joe's to see if I could figure out what might  accompany the waiting matzoh, and also to buy provisions for the chicken and soup I was planning to make for Ivan and Megan next week.  Got a few bunches of daffodils and for the first time, bought frozen tuna (can never remember if tuna is something we're suppose to avoid to save the planet, but told myself that I should trust the Trader to do the right thing in this department.  After a quick stop at Ralph's to buy gizzards and hearts for the soup, I headed home.  Sarah called just as I arrived.  It was 9:30 in NYC--she'd just left work and was biking over the Brooklyn Bridge--favorite phone time.  As we chatted, I prepared dinner--marinated the defrosting tuna with a little soy sauce, lime and crushed ginger and garlic for a ridiculously short time.  Sauteed the tuna -just a few minutes on each side and served myself a dinner of tuna, with sliced avocado and tomatoes.

This picture conveys the components, but perhaps I was feeling a bit lonely or sorry for myself.  It looks like I erred on the side of sparse and minimal, but truth is that photo is deceptive.  Sometimes I don't remember to take a picture until after I've eaten most of my meal, but for some reason, I just photographed this sampling and proceeded to eat about three times as much before proceeding to the chocolate matzoh.  

April 5. Leftovers on the edge. Seder hints.

So many tupperware containers.  Time to do a little refrigerator control, I won't even go near yesterday's left-overs.  Working on clearing out ancient odds and ends.  For lunch,  I cooked up the one remaining slice of bacon--removed it from the pan, then sauteed one half an onion with mushrooms that I'd bought too long ago.  Tossed in what I'd hoped would be the last of the black beans and rice--for an adequate if not astounding lunch.

Biked to the taxman on Lincoln, then to a 5:30 yoga class.  The sun was setting, and evening chill had arrived as I returned home at 7.
Sam called in the midst of making chicken soup.  I have no seder plans this year, so am happy to dispense advise.  Turns out that my posted recipe wasn't quite as explicit as it might have been.  As I elaborated to Sam, I made a few adjustments to the text. Hope it's now comprehensible as well as delicious.

While dispensing soup advice, I re-cycled the remaining cup of  rice and beans now augmented with mushrooms and onions  I finely sliced one lost brussels sprouts I'd found in the fridge And using, the Chinese grater I'd bought in Hoi An, Vietnam, I grated in a carrot as well.  I added all of this to three eggs beaten a spoonful or two of water and a splash of soy sauce for a multi-cultural pre-Seder frittata.  

April 4th. Pasta with Roasted Cauliflower, Eggplant and Zucchini Stew, Tofu and mango with pomegranate molasses, roasted peppers

Dinner for Sam, Drea and Tommy.  Decided to go all vegetarian without too many repeats of past meals.

I'd made  a variation of my eggplant and zucchini dish, not exactly a ratatouille or a caponata--but could be confused for either.  It rested in the refrigerator while I prepared the rest of the meal.

Also--pasta with roasted cauliflower--inspired by a a Deborah Madison recipe that used  boiled cauliflower.

FARFALLE  WITh ROASTED CAULIFLOWER

Two Heads of Cauliflower cut into small florets, stems in small pieces

1 pound Farfalle

1/2 cup chopped parsley

1/2 cup well toasted fresh bread crumbs

1/2 cup grated parmesan cheese

2 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons olive oil

red pepper flakes

capers

salt and pepper

I began by roasting the cauliflower .  I used three  jelly roll pans full.  Well, actually , I used one pan three times.   I can never have enough roasted cauliflower and wanted to make sure there'd be plenty.   Set the cauliflower aside.

While the pasta is cooking,  heat the butter along with the olive oil in a large pan.   Just before the pasta is done,  add the  cauliflower  along with the pepper flakes, capers and salt and pepper , to the  oil and butter.  Drain the pasta.  Add it to the pan, along  with the grated cheese and bread crumbs.  Mix well.  Add parsley and serve.

Farfalle with cauliflower gussied up with roasted slivers of pepper

Yes indeed,  I also roasted red and golden peppers, making efficient use of the broiler while the oven was busy with all those trays of florets.

Weeks ago, in a fit of righteousness, I'd bought two packages of tofu--a perfect source for protein for this all-veggie meal.  In recent years, my tofu recipe of choice has been caramelized tofu, but instead chose to have another whirl with  pomegranate molasses 

After much poking about,  with some inspiration from a Paula Wolfert eggplant recipe, and a recipe for tofu salad from Nature Path's Organic food (we are, after all, talking tofu), I came up with the following:

SAUTEED TOFU WITH MANGO AND POMEGRANATE MOLASSES

One package extra firm tofu, pressed and cut into neat pieces

One Mango, cut into relatively neat pieces

Lemon and/or lime juice--several tablespoons

Garlic-a few cloves, crushed 

Ginger-(optional and variable)

Soy Sauce-few tablespoons

Rice vinegar--a few tablespoons

Pomegranate Molasses-several tablespoons

Sugar-a dash

Mint leaves-1/2 cup shredded or chopped

Parsley--two tablespoons

silver plated coffee beans?

The first  task is to press the tofu, i.e. get rid of some of the moisture.  Many possibilities with varying outcomes.  My favorite at the moment is to wrap  the whole block of tofu in paper towels, place it between two flat cutting boards and  place my  jar of mysterious silver weights,  purchased at a garage sale years ago, on top.  Their   proper use, I think, is  to weigh down pie crusts--but they  are surely available  for other duties.  An hour or so should be plenty of time--but if you forget about it for a while, no harm done.
Then, crush a few cloves of garlic and a bit of ginger and stir into the  juice of one lemon or lime , soy sauce and rice vinegar.
Slice   the tofu into relatively neat rectangles--or squares and cover with the marinade.

The few pieces of mango and tofu that survived long enough to be photographed

Drain the marinade, reserving it for the sauce.  Heat a few tablespoons of olive oil in a heavy pan and brown the tofu.   You want it nicely browned and a bit crispy on the outside, but soft inside.  Shouldn't be longer than a few minutes on each side.  Remove to a serving platter.   Mix the tofu with the cut-up mango.  Add the pomegranate molasses, mint, parsley and a dash of sugar  (not sure of this is necessary--but  it tasted a bit tart).  Turns out one package of tofu was scarcely enough for the four of us.  It disappeared almost immediately.  No left-overs at all.

Drea had brought a dark bread which was perfect with all those veggies, and for dessert, she'd brought a gigantic chocolate chip cookie.  We divided the cookie into four  large quarters and  with  the last sliver of key lime pie  cut into four tiny pieces, we had a fine finish to a very jolly meal.

Apri 4th Lunch. Brussels sprouts with bacon and raisins. Black beans and rice

Brussels sprouts with bacon and raisins!   On Monday, driven by hunger, cooking needs and time constraints, I'd spent too much time in yoga thinking about lunch.  As a pre-emptive measure, I began lunch preparations while I was making coffee this morning. The hunger I can deal with, it's all that planning that muddles my mind.

A few brussels sprouts had escaped the delicious fate of their brethren, but their time had come.  I sauteed them with a bit of bacon, substituting raisins for the dates before heading to yoga.
Indeed, knowing that lunch was prepared, calmed my ever-restless monkey mind.  I even did better than usual in my attempt to approximate bhujapadasana.  It was a perfect California day.   As I rode my bike home--happily anticipating my lunch of brussels sprouts, black beans and rice--the crowds packing the Santa Monica Pier conjured up old images of Venice and Santa Monica as meccas of tourism.

April 3rd. Car, Cascarones, Grilled Cheese and thinking ahead.

Waiting to be healed

Friday--perhaps while I was enjoying my Egg McMuffin, or maybe going through my yoga paces, my car, waiting patiently in the Fred Segal parking lot was smacked, right in the soft bumper spot next to the Obama 2008 bumper sticker.  The perpetrator chose not to leave a note.  Could I ignore it?  The damage is just cosmetic.  Even here in car-crazed Los Angeles, I haven't minded driving my 1997 Camry, but once it starts looking like a moving wreck, we're entering another paradigm.  Appearances are, after all, appearances.  After doing due diligence, I brought the car to Jack.  He could take care of it, he assured me, but it would have to be there for at least two days.  That was almost fine, but first I had to make quick run to TopValu--the Mexican market for eggplant, zucchini and peppers for tomorrow night's dinner.

I had intended to take the long walk home, but as I was now laden with groceries, Linda, who works in the office gave me a ride.  En route she told me about Cascarones, confetti eggs.  A tradition in her family, as in Mexico, you can think of them as a cross between pinatas and Easter eggs.  Colored eggs are filled with confetti, and after the Easter Egg hunt, everyone pelts everyone else--filling the room, or yard, or wherever with tiny bits of colored paper.   According to Wikipedia, they originated in China and eventually made their way to Mexico.  Rather than dying hard boiled eggs for an Easter Egg hunt, the eggs are empties (Linda starts saving her hollowed out shells around Christmas time).  "In this economy, you wouldn't hollow out eggs without eating them," she says.  At one point, when she ran a restaurant, she had hundreds of eggs to paint and stuff with confetti.    She is her families designated Easter egg preparer, and this year, she told me she's just doing a few dozen.  If any are left over (not likely), she offered to save one for me.

Waiting to be chopped

Once home, I began preparing the vegetables for the eggplant and zucchini brew that made me so happy last week.

Waiting for the pan

Conventional wisdom, as well as my own opinion, is that this dish will only improve by tomorrow, so was pleased to get started today.

Took a break for an early evening walk with Katya.  Coming home, I finished the eggplant dish and finally had the time to make the sandwich of yesterday's yoga dreams--grilled cheese sandwich with bacon, tomato and avocado.  Very good indeed.

April 2nd. Another Leftover Lunch. Another dinner on the town

Breaking many rules, I spent too much time in yoga thinking about lunch.  Going through (not for the first time) the contents of my refrigerator, is it any wonder I skipped a whole sequence (this is an ashtanga class where you go through a memorized series of poses), as I mentally constructed  a grilled cheese sandwich with bacon, tomato and avocado.  And it wasn't just the sandwich on my mind.  I had an appointment to have my teeth cleaned at 2:30--could I get home, make this sandwich, take a shower, clean my teeth before their cleaning, and get to the dentist in less than an hour?  No wonder so many poses slipped right off the mat.

Is it possible I did none of the above?  Maybe I managed two out of five.  Given the limited time, I had to abandon my dream sandwich and instead re-heated Saturday's brussels sprouts with last week's rice and beans, before giving my teeth a good cleaning.  For the first time in years, Gail the hygienist, did not scold me for lax flossing.  For small triumphs, we are indeed thankful.

No dinner worries.  Carol and I went to the opening of the Herb Ritts exhibit at the Getty where we had fine drinks and snacks on the patio before partying our way through the art--a grand retrospective of Ritts' work--with a splendid room of celebrity photographs through the decades and celebrity sightings as well (though not by me).  High glamour all around.

April 1. emptying the refrigerator.

Not clear that my activities are all post-worthy, but hoping the trajectory of my meals creates some sort of minimal narrative, I'm trying to record every day. If I re-heat the same dishes there is at least consistency--but how interesting can that be?

As far as I can tell, anyone who frequents produce markets of any sort, generally overbuys and has to figure out what to do with too many left-over vegetables.  My concern on Sunday morning focussed on some serious stalks of broccoli that looked like they might not have much of a future.

I know broccoli is the symbol of good-for-you food that no-one wants to eat, as in--could congress create a mandate for people to eat broccoli?  This is not my issue.  I'm a long-time broccoli fan.  I might not like it quite as much as roasted cauliflower, but it is OK.

Despite these warm feelings, I'd quite forgotten the broccoli in the crisper.  I was thinking bacon and eggs, and decided to  include a broccoli salad which led to a sudden shift of menu. I made fried eggs with a side (more of an appetizer as I managed to eat it before the eggs were cracked) of a broccoli salad with bacon, red onion and golden raisins with a splash of cider vinegar--and because I couldn't resist a spoonful or two of mayonnaise.  No recipe.  No pictures.  Just a confession.

Met Linda G. for a walk--so windy we couldn't promenade by the sea. We sat instead on a patch of green in Hotchkiss Park before having a Happy Hour hamburger, fries and sangria at the restaurant on Main Street previously known as Orange (current name unknown).

Biked home as the sun was setting.  No need to open the fridge.