I don’t go to Italy to eat. I always order the wrong thing (including the stuffed zucchini flower, which may the only thing in the world I’m allergic to). I find the pasta in Rome insipid, flaccid, too fat, not fresh, and the pomodoro sauce soporific. Which, of course, only means that I don’t frequent the best of restaurants there. That said, I had a phenomenal dish at a nondescript joint on a side street off Via 20 Septembre. Dorado. DORADO. My new favorite fish. Okay, I guess I’ve had it before; it’s also known as mahi-mahi or common dolphinfish — not to be confused with an actual dolphin god forbid. Anyway, it was really good.

The reason I bring it up at all is that when in Maine the following weekend, I pilfered a book of my Dad’s, Adrift: 76 Days Lost at Sea, in which our humble protagonist, stuck in his life raft, is pestered by Dorados bumping incessantly into the boat’s bottom (and his, which after a while has no padding). He eats a good many of them, though, so it kinda balances out. And he survives. And it’s a true story. And he lives in Maine. Anyway.

Stateside, I needed something fibrous and green. And so…

Super Salad

I’m always on the hunt for anything that can mimic pasta, bread or cheese. The latter cannot be simulated so forget that. Spaghetti squash does a great job at imitating pasta, when done just right (and with butter), but nothing else comes close. Bread’s tough, but a good option is Arnold’s wholewheat sandwich thins (at just 100 calories per) or possibly something from Ezekiels.

I concocted the following from items randomly picked up at the Union Square Greenmarket today and winged it from there.  The result? A dish which, with modifications, could satisfy the hungriest kid or husband. Or wife or whatever. Meaning, it has heft, and crunch, and texture and flavor and is power-packed with nutrients.

Cauliflower

Roast at 350 (or 400 if you’re in a hurry) with sprinkling of olive oil , cumin and Madras curry powder, fresh black pepper. Stir occasionally. Maybe 20 minutes or less. Transfer to stovetop pot.

Add Sunflower Sprouts.
Found at local greenmarket. Substitute any  herbaceous plant with a little crunch. But think “sprouts.”  The cool thing about these is that they’r
Heat. Not cook. Just to warm it all up and soften the greens.e like other sprouts but on steroids. The long white stems, when lightly heated with the whole mass, become almost pasta-like. In retrospect, I’d double the huge handful I put in today.

ADD

Greek yogurt. Not optional. Maybe a heaping dollop per serving. Provides sauciness and tang.
Dried cranberries. Critical, to counteract the feta and for color.

Crumbled Feta cheese. Semi-optional. I love it. Needed just a spoonful. If you don’t add it, toss in a few grains of sea salt.

Chicken, if that’s your thing and you need protein. It’s mine, sometimes, but not this time. I’d blacken it, I think, for this recipe. Oooh, small pieces of steak would be good too.
Roasted Garlic. Optional. But oh-so-good and healthful.

A squeeze of lemon would never hurt a dish like this.

I SERVED OVER …

Bed of mixed greens with papaya and olive oil. Squeeze awkward leftover papaya pieces (oh, you’ll have some. Papaya is hard to cut perfectly, at least for amateurs like me) onto greens. Mix.

After a brief interregnum* I’m back with a recipe and after that a recap of the food I had in Rome. Tune in tomorrow.

* An interregnum (plural interregna or interregnums) is a period of discontinuity or “gap” in a government, organization, or social order. [Wikipedia] It’s not some kind of horrible gastrointestinal thing.

I worked — and worked quickly — with what I had fresh  in the fridge, and serendipitously created a combo that I honestly would request as a perpetuitous desert island meal OR my last supper at Rikers. I knew I needed an easy combo of protein, carbs and greens.

• Watercress. Organic, triple-washed and unfortunately not from the Green Market but oh well. No slugs, at least. Unfamiliar with watercress? It’s like arugula and mustard got married and had a mild well-behaved child. Not as upper-crusty as British novels would have you believe. Unless you put it in a crust-less white-bread sandwich with butter. Ew.
• One free-range egg (not organic but cheaper. I just love the sound of “free-range,” though not sure how that can apply to an egg)
• Balsamic vinegar so old that it’s now like a syrup
• One half of an Arnold’s 100% whole wheat round “sandwich thin” (maybe the best invention ever, at 50 calories, not that we’re counting)

Because I was too lazy to remove the miscellaneous pots and pans in my oven,  I pan fried the bread in a teensy bit of olive oil with a smidge of garlic powder. I usually like them crunchy but this one was warm and olive-oil -oozy.

I poached the egg for precisely 4 minutes (not at a boil, just with the delightful pre-boil bubbles polka-dotting the bottom of the pan). Note: if you don’t like a runny egg yoke (no, I won’t say anything mean) just leave the egg in the water with heat OFF for another minute or two.

I put the egg on the bread over the watercress (about two handfuls, lightly coated with the balsamic vinegar and a drop more olive oil and finished with coarse sea salt and freshly ground pepper.

My favorite made-up meal ever. Truly Springy. The stars of the show are easily the salmon (I only buy wild — and wildly-expensive, unfortunately); the amazing spaghetti squash (hard to ruin, and as satisfying as pasta); the yogurt-horseradish sauce (I’d eat it for breakfast, as I favor the savory) and, surprisingly, the orange/sesame dressing. The pea-shoots? Well, they’re pretty and all, but how on earth to eat them? They fling themselves all OVER THE PLACE and you really feel like a horse gobbling hay, stuffing them into your mouth. Good and all, but … really.

INGREDIENTS

Salmon fillet
Spaghetti squash
Pea shoots
Young asparagus
Fresh horseradish root
Lemon
Greek yogurt
Coarse sea salt
Olive oil
Sesame oil
Orange juice

Mix yogurt and finely-shaved horseradish with a dash of coarse sea salt. Let sit (refrigerate if necessary) for at least an hour. (Overnight is best; this horseradish is HOT but the yogurt chills it out.)

Bake spaghetti squash rind-side down at 375 for about 30 minutes. Remove from oven. Don’t touch. Put in salmon for last 15 minutes. When salmon is done, let it sit and think for a moment while removing “spaghetti” strands from squash with a fork. Mix in a bowl with a touch of olive oil (or butter) and shaved Parmesan.

Steam asparagus until tender and squeeze on some lemon juice.

Accoutrement
Small salad: spring snowpea shoots (or any green salad-y stuff) with light freshly-squeezed orange juice and tsp sesame oil dressing.
Chilled semi-dry Prosecco

Note: If I had guests (and I will!) I’d let the pea shoots just be garnish and double the amount of squash served. And the parmesan.

The scallops are so fresh I thought I’d just marinate them in lime juice and maybe later pan sear or just chop raw and put into — voila! — little lime ramekins. I think this came to me from having stayed in HUT in Jamaica. Now, you know I’m not a hut kind of girl but it was an adventure, and many a utensil was made out of coconut shells and the like. Creative, rustic and generally unusable but who cares. That’s why God gave us fingers.

We’ll call this meal a “teaching moment.” Teaching me, not you. Okay, so I toasted some raw sunflower seeds (dry pan), parboiled the little heirloom potatoes and sweet potatoes, tossed with olive oil, sea salt and cracked pepper, then baked them at 350 for a little while, while also toasting some chopped honey-infused fresh ginger.

I had soaked the whole scallops in lime juice for an hour or so and then pan seared them for just a few minutes. I wanted to serve them, like, “seven ways” but then only had four lime ramekins (which I had to press again to keep their small bowl-shapes — which afforded me a chance to drizzle lime juice over the scallop way #1 (plain). I cut up the other scallops and drizzled ginger-infused tamari (yum) over one. That one was the best.

I also briefly sauteed the chopped collard greens and threw in the ginger.

It was all really, really good. BUT, I have no idea why I thought a perfect (or in this case, totally imperfect) quenelle of fresh goat cheese belonged anywhere near this dish. I just had a hankering for it. Now I know I don’t like real goat cheese from the farmer’s market. It’s too goatey and real.  Supermarket goat cheese is much nicer, if pasteurized to death.

Best flavor/texture combos: sweet potatoes and slightly burnt toasted sunflower seeds. Lime-soaked scallops and ginger tamari. Worst: dung-redolent goat cheese. Also big fail on photo composition (notably, the potatoes just plopped there. A nice melange of chopped red and yellow bell peppers would’ve been perf. Oh well.

———————————————

We’ll title this photo “Why to Bother Washing Your Vegetables Even if They’re Organic”

Symptoms include unexplainable rashes (ew) and the usual fatigue, sleep disorders, etc. Zzzzz. I officially give up. I’m blessed to not have any weird food allergies (though a cheese one would behoove me, come bikini weather, surely) and I really feel for those who do suffer. But come on. Scientific knowledge alone is going to result in a food PARALYSIS and cause a mass Kate Mossiness.  I hereby decline to eat anything that doesn’t simply FEEL RIGHT, at any given time. That should suffice. More here and everywhere else, google-wise.

On another note, here’s my choice for the BEST CHOCOLATE EVER: Ecuadorian Organic Dark Chocolate (Lemongrass).

I was instructed to contact wineries for a single-bottle donation to a special tasting featuring wines from EVERY STATE in the union. I was overwhelmed at first, mostly because it felt like cold-calling, with rejection imminent each time I picked up the phone. The real challenge, it turned out, was locating (pre-Google, mind you) a winery in some states, like Maine, where I’m from, and, if I recall, Arkansas and Hawaii.

I succeeded, mainly because the vintners were so kind and responsive. Even Alaska coughed up a decent bottle of what my dad still calls “giggle juice.” I found one — Bartlett Maine Estate Winery — that produces a delighful BLUEBERRY wine.  At the time, I knew it had potential but I didn’t know it would take decades for blueberries to be recognized for their true oenophilic possibilities, including antioxidants more powerful than grapes and, more and more, a sophisticated flavor that doesn’t scream “desert.” My only concern now is if it turns your teeth blue. I’ll have to procure one last bottle in the name of research and report back. Stay tuned.

Read more: “Blueberry wine may be the Rodney Dangerfield of the vintner arts, but it has gained a measure of respect from food scientists at the University of Florida… In a recent report certain to give oenophiles pause, researchers with UF’s Institute of Food and Agricultural Sciences tout blueberry wine as higher in heart-healthy antioxidants than the vast majority of wines made from grapes.”

Book notes: I stumbled upon this fun review of Ruth Reichl’s GARLIC AND SAPPHIRES - The Secret Life of a Critic in Disguise. The book is seven years old now, but if you haven’t read it, do. She has a blog, as well, and you can follow her on Twitter.

Your Healthfood Might Kill You
Organic brown rice syrup (used in “health” bars and organic baby formula) may contain ARSENIC.  Mmm. - UPI Science News

Nano Alert
Billions of engineered nanoparticles in foods and pharmaceuticals are ingested by humans daily, and new Cornell research warns they may be more harmful to health than previously thought. - Nanotech Now

The good news? Red wine is still good for you. Source: Me

Apparently, there are 1.5 million borscht recipes on the web, each different from the next. And the Joy of Cooking one didn’t include meat, so I had to nix it in order to give my 87-year old neighbor who watches my cats when I travel  a rough simulacrum of the venerable beet stew she can only find in the Ukraine and the East Village.  With trepidation, I combined all 1.5 million borscht recipes into one, defying the laws of mathematics.

I won’t supply a recipe because I’m exhausted. I will say that the MOST important thing is to get the right meat. NOT “cubed beef” from your local crappy supermarket, but whatever the local butcher offers when you say “I just need some beef that will fall apart in a stew.” (This is why it took 2.5 days; my first attempt was a failure.) AND, my kitchen looks like Patrick Bateman from “American Psycho” had a visit. That said, I finally had a bowlful and it was amazingly delicious with a dollop of sour cream (I NEVER get to eat sour cream!) and a sprig of fresh dill.

UPDATE: My neighbor deemed it “interesting” and “different.”