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I love cookbooks. I collect cookbooks. Sometimes, I read cookbooks in bed before going to sleep. I have been gratified in recent months to realize that a number of people also treat cookbooks as literature, but then I had this realization: I was only using them as literature.

Somehow, despite having already accrued 34 cookbooks here in Minneapolis (in addition to the maybe more than 100 I have at home in Berkeley), I never cook out of cookbooks anymore. Blame the internets. Somehow, somewhere along the way, cooking out of a book became a rarity for me, and one that seemed like a greater undertaking than pulling a recipe from the world wide webs. This was, of course, totally irrational: recipes from cookbooks don’t, by definition, take any more effort than recipes from the internet, plus most of the recipes I get from the internets came from books originally.

So, I decided to reacquaint myself with my cookbook shelves, beginning with this wonderful, Wonderful stew from my beloved, Beloved Jamie Oliver. Continue Reading »

Lemon Risotto

Kevin is off gallivanting in Massachusetts and asked me to post in his stead. I’ve been roommates with Kevin for some time and have long a been beneficiary of his Food Junta posts, but this is my first official entry into the books. I’m glad I waited for this dish, because it’s really something.

And it’s especially something because, in true Food Junta fashion, it’s enormously easy. Risotto with a twist.

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Citius, altius, fortius, eh?

Good morning sports fans, and merry belated Winter Olympics. Weren’t they great, these past few weeks? Rushing home after work to catch some sweet biathlon footage only to find… really? More ice dancing? Okay, seriously, how many rounds of this are there? But in spite of tape delays, ice dancers and Apolo Ono’s soul patch, there was as always a lot to love about the Winter Olympics. I know that the image of a crowded late-night sports bar with half a dozen massive flat screens turned to a curling match is one I will cherish for years to come.

The host of these past games, Canada, is a surprisingly large country located somewhere north of Seattle, and as the photo above clearly shows, its chief exports include hockey players, beer, and maple syrup. Okay, so there’s no maple syrup in the photo (and honestly one of those silver bullets looks suspiciously like a Coors Lite), but I have it on good authority that the amber stuff is a treasured national resource. Brown gold. Canada-C. You know, like Texas Tea? Oh forget it. Tonight, as a tribute to our hockey overlords north of the border, and as part of Food Junta’s ongoing wall-to-wall Olympics coverage, I present to you: bourbon maple syrup. Swifter, higher, stronger! Sweeter, tipsier, earlier!

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Mushroom Barley Soup

Here on Food Junta, Claire and I regularly profess our love for soup. Soup is a hearty, satisfying, soul-soothing dish, but the real reason that Claire and I and other home cooks love soup so much is because it is so $@&$& easy to make.

Saute onions and/or garlic, add vegetables and/or meat, add water and/or stock, add grains and/or pasta, season. That is the recipe for pretty much every soup that’s out there, and once you’ve mastered it (which honestly takes about 15 minutes), you are a soupier extraordinaire.

In my eating adventures for my other blog, I recently ate the best bowl of mushroom barley soup I’d ever had, though to tell the truth, I can’t remember ever having had a bowl of mushroom barley soup before that one. I think “barley” had always scared me off by sounding a bit too much like a health food ingredient, but I won’t make that mistake again. Barley is delicious, and so is this soup.

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Here at Food Junta, we mention the Minimalist a fair amount. But in all my minimalist reading, I don’t think I’ve ever seen MBittz wax quite as poetic as he did over this ginger fried rice, adapted from his friend and cookbook collaborator (and majorly fancy pants chef) Jean-Georges Vongerichten. Rarely do I read a recipe that I feel a need to make quite as immediately as this, but between Bittman’s effusive praise, the short list of ingredients, and the quick prep time, I was sold. Continue Reading »

I have always heard friends rave about Ben’s Chili Bowl in Washington, D.C. – it’s a bit of an institution to say the least. In fact, it’s become a can’t-miss whistle stop for presidential candidates, local politicians, and celebrities. Bill Cosby eats there. A lot.

Ben’s Chili Bowl is most famous for their “half-smoke,” a D.C. delicacy that I’ve never had the privilege to try. From what I can gather, though, half-smokes are a type of sausage and Ben loads them up with chili topping. Works for me.

After looking at some pictures of Ben’s half smokes online, I decided that approximation – rather than imitation – would be a better course of action. I opted for a veggie-heavy meatless chili topping, rather than the shapeless mess that Wikipedia showed me. After all, I couldn’t have my first post on Food Junta looking like something you wouldn’t risk feeding to your dog. After picking up some Semolina bread and hot pepper Italian sausages, I was off and running.

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This year, supposedly, is going to be the year of the meatball. Every other food newsletter I get brings news of a new meatball-focused restaurant opening in New York, or a restaurant newly adding meatballs to its menu. Strange, I think. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love a good meatball (and the meatball parmigiana at Frankie’s is the best), but really? Is this a trend? I suppose it is, though it’s not like anyone’s invented the wheel here. Because who, since watching Lady & the Tramp as a child, doesn’t love a good meatball? Or, if I may remind you of that classic ditty, “On Top of Spaghetti (all covered with cheese…I lost my poor meatball…when somebody sneezed).”

You know what else isn’t a trend? Bacon. Bacon is just good. It’s like meatballs in that way. Still, I can’t help but applaud the genius of the good people over at Bon Appetit, who managed to get both meatballs AND bacon on the cover of their January issue. The recipe: Spaghetti and Meatballs All’Amatriciana, which, BA notes, is classically made with guanciale (salt-cured pig’s jowl). Here, they’ve substituted slightly more user-friendly bacon, with the traditional Italian dish supplying a nice front for what I think was pretty clearly a moment of gluttonous genius that had to be gussied up a bit with a foreign language. Continue Reading »

Don’t get me wrong, I love pancakes. But we can get sick of even our most beloved dishes from time to time, and after a few months of making pancakes nearly every weekend, I’ve been on a bit of a hiatus recently. But last night, I was reading Deborah Madison’s What We Eat When We Eat Alone (a great little book) in search of inspiration for an easy Sunday dinner, when I stumbled upon a recipe for johnny cakes.

The pancake’s rustic cousin, a johnny cake is a no-frills griddle cake made with cornmeal instead of flour and usually without eggs or baking powder. They’re even easier and more forgiving than pancakes, and the cornmeal makes them seem more hearty and filling than pancakes.

Plus, their name makes them sound like an overweight mobster…

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One of the small joys of dating my boyfriend has been discovering another human being who likes his food as spicy as I do. Together, we sought out and loved this meal, have maintained and replenished five different types of hot sauce in our fridge, and collectively swooned when badass/softie at heart Chris Perez took a bottle of hot sauce out of his holster and put it on his pizza in Selena. (Ok, perhaps that swoon wasn’t “collective”.)

But too much spice can be a bad thing (the word “ulcer” occasionally flits through my head) so I’ve been striving more and more to find a balance – meals that are complex enough in flavor and with enough of a kick that I never miss that extra level of heat. This soup fits that bill perfectly, especially when you might be tired of the traditional black bean-pumpkin combo but still want a protein-based soup that is equally as satisfying. Continue Reading »

Tortilla Madness

“We who approach our kitchens with ham-fisted dread must defy the Alexes of this world–those breezy souls who can reach into cupboards, rifle among the cereal boxes, and come back forty minutes later with a plate of Tunisian lambs’ jowls heightened with pomegranate seeds. Like seasoned gigolos, such people know only of success, repeated every night with subtle variation; they talk of “mastering” the art of cooking, whereas most of us are lucky to be its slaves, scalded and swearing, doomed to tiptoe along the verge of failure. They are the kings of time, too, wisely marinating their salmon for twenty-four hours, already savoring the triumph to come, while we splash on the fish sauce, the lime juice, and the tarlike lees from the bottom of the soy bottle, poke the flesh for ten minutes, and then, as much from boredom as famine, head for the stove.” – Anthony Lane.

Oh, yeah. And I made a tortilla…

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