garlic potato purée

mash potato 2

in the modern age, “looks good enough to eat” takes on significant meaning – emphasis on the word “looks”.

the first cookbook I ever used was the dean and deluca cookbook, a paperback publication void of any pictures. as evidenced by its stained pages and creased binding, my family loved that cookbook. in it is the recipe for our usual holiday mashed potatoes, which we have used for the past decade.

presently, it is unheard of for a cookbook to have no pictures, and people rely heavily on how food looks as an indicator of how it tastes, especially when choosing recipes online. I admit to totally judging food by its appearance, but am also amused by the lengths to which some photographers go to make a dish look more attractive. there’s the small stuff – spritz salad with oil to give it that sheen, arrange the accoutrements ever-so-artistically atop a soup, twirl the pasta enticingly around a perfectly polished fork. then there’s the ridiculous – I recently tried a coq au vin recipe whose photograph promised a rich burgundy shade of stew. either those people dumped in a tablespoon or two of utterly unnecessary red food coloring or someone got a little overzealous adjusting the colors on photoshop. the dish itself tasted amazing, but came out rather brown (which, in retrospect, is the absolutely correct color for a wine-flavored chicken stew).

as I planned out the thanksgiving menu this year, I abandoned the traditional mashed potato recipe, seduced by the glossy pages of thomas keller’s ad hoc at home and the promise of consuming a premier chef’s (side) dish without having to sell an organ. as I plated the garlic potato purée (better known by its plebeian moniker, “mashed potatoes,”) and preparing to photograph them, one of my cousins asked what I was doing. “I’m creating more surfaces for shadows, to take a better photo,” I replied, while gently pressing creases into the swirls of mashed potato with a wooden spoon. (yes, it looked just as ridiculous as it sounds.) in my opinion, keller’s recipe is superior to dean and deluca’s – faster, involving less human labor, and with a more complex flavor profile thanks to the chives. but dean and deluca’s has this awesome punch of roasted garlic flavor – something that is impossible to capture in a photograph.

at dinner, the mashed potatoes were well-received. but then again, so was the stuffing, butt-ugly burnt edges be damned.

mash potato
makes 6 servings

1/4 cup peeled garlic cloves
1/2 cup canola oil
4 lb large yukon gold potatoes
kosher salt
1 1/2 cups heavy cream
5 tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into 5 pieces
Freshly ground black pepper
2 tbsp minced chives

thomas keller. ad hoc at home. new york: artisan books, 2009.

1 cut off and discard root ends of garlic cloves. place cloves in a small saucepan and add enough oil to cover them by 1 inch.
2 set saucepan over low heat. cook the garlic gently; very small bubbles will come up through the oil, but should not break the surface. cook garlic for ~40 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the cloves are completely tender. remove the saucepan from heat and allow the garlic to cool in the oil.
3 meanwhile, place potatoes in a large pot and cover with 2 inches of cold water. season water with 1/4 cup salt and bring to a simmer over medium-high heat.
4 adjust heat as necessary to maintain very gentle simmer and cook for ~20 minutes, until tender enough to purée. drain potatoes in a colander and let them steam until cool enough to peel.
5 heat the cream over low heat in a heavy saucepan; keep warm.
6 in a stand mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, add one-quarter of the potatoes, top with 1 pieces of butter and one-quarter of the garlic, and purée. repeat with remaining potatoes, butter, and garlic in 3 batches.
7 warm potatoes in saucepan over medium heat. as they heat, whip the cream into potatoes. season to taste with salt and pepper and fold in chives. transfer to a serving bowl, sprinkle with the remaining chives, and top with a dollop of butter.
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hummus

hummus1

this past weekend, spring finally arrived. even though the calendar claims spring has been here since march 20th, I couldn’t quite believe it until the first sunshine-flooded 65ºF day. (then because spring is such a tease, of course the next day was grey and rainy and so windy, it looked like everyone on the street was wearing ombre-dyed pants and the sidewalks became a graveyard of mangled umbrellas.)

the other sign of spring has been the sudden burst of spring blooms (and their little pollen bombs), the color-drained winter landscape suddenly awash with verdant green grass and trees thick with pastel flowers. waking up to color (and to sunlight!) truly makes the winter, with its ice-slicked roads and bone-shredding winds, seem like a best-forgotten nightmare.

tomato hummus diptych1

a while back, I planted some tomato seeds. they sat, patiently incubating in the weak winter sunlight, hiding so long that I had given up hope they would ever appear. then one morning, I woke up to little green sprouts reaching for the early light. even though the temperature has dropped again, the sunlight is stronger and the greenery outside somehow makes 45ºF warmer than it felt in the winter.

today was such a beautiful day, I made some celebratory hummus and was taken aback by the vibrancy of the paprika, the tart tang of the lemon juice in a hummus recipe that I have made many times before and that I swear tasted somehow duller in the winter. here’s to running through meadows and along creeks, to the softness of a spring bud, to the birdcalls like an alarm clock at 4am (yes! I’ve even missed the annoying birds! …we’ll see how long that lasts.) here’s to just being alive and surrounded by life – happy spring!!

IMG_5937
makes 6 servings

1 15oz can chickpeas
1/2 cup light tahini paste
2 tbsp fresh-squeezed lemon juice
2 cloves garlic
3/4 tsp salt (+ more to taste)
1/2 cup leftover chickpea juice
1 tsp paprika (optional)
olive oil, za’atar, cumin, sesame seeds, etc. for garnish

yotam ottolenghi and sami tamimi. jerusalem: a cookbook. new york: ten speed press, 2012.

1 peel the skins off of the chickpeas. discard skin.
2 in food processor (or a very good blender) process chickpeas until you have a powdery, clumpy paste. with the machine running, add tahini paste, lemon juice, garlic, and salt. slowly drizzle in leftover chickpea juice and allow to mix for 5 minutes, until you get a smooth and creamy paste.
3 transfer hummus to a bowl, cover with plastic wrap, and let rest for at least 30 minutes. refrigerate until needed.