Indian Summer, Global Warming and Grilled Currant-Mustard Chicken Thighs

It was a fine weekend in Chicago full of endless blue skies and autumn trees in full plumage. It was also hot, the thermometer hovering near 80 F. With fall duties on my agenda, including planting mums and changing over closets, this spike in temperature was not welcome. Then there's the suggestion from our friendly neighborhood weathermen that these warm days are with us for a little while, about a week they say.

Of course, we've always had Indian summer, a day or two of unseasonable warmth in autumn. But this is more than that and it seems to underline recent assertions by Chicagoans in the know that in 20 years our weather will be more like that of Arkansas. That may sound nice to those of us who've survived a Chicago winter or two, but let's not forget what that means for Arkansas and rest of the southern states of this country, much less that of the southern hemisphere. And still politicians debate about the existence of global warming.

Not wanting to fire up the air conditioner again, we threw open all the doors and windows. For dinner, we lit the fire in our Big Green Egg so as to avoid the oven and served a meal of fall ingredients cooked summer style, including Grill Roasted Butternut Squash Served on Mustard Greens with Goat Brie and Walnuts and Red Currant-Mustard Chicken Thighs.

Red Currant-Mustard Chicken Thighs
Serves 6

1/2 cup red currant jelly
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
6 boneless skinless chicken thighs

Combine the first 4 ingredients in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, whisking frequently. Turn the heat to medium and reduce by half to a sticky glaze. Fire up a grill or heat a non-stick grill pan. Brush the glaze all over the chicken thighs and cook until they reach 165 F. This won't take long at all. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Cohabitating: Fried Green Tomatoes with Field Peas

There are many pleasures associated with living in the city, including easy access to world class restaurants, our choice of farmers' markets, and the proximity to downtown locales.

There are also some small disadvantages, the smaller the worse. I know that country folk have to contend with an assortment of varmints. Us? Crazy squirrels and, shudder, rats. It's been a particularly active year for latter the species. In our set of attached rowhouses, we and our neighbors have seen more than our fair share of the Rattus norvegicus, both dead and alive. I know the genus name only from Pixar's Our Friend the Rat, a short film associated with Ratatouille. It seems appropriate that the featured dish in said movie highlights tomatoes, since our enemy, the rat, pilfered our last beautiful red ripe heirloom tomato. Boo hoo.

I'm tired of battling the creatures for the fruits of our vine. I also realize that I'm probably being optimistic to believe that any more will turn red given the drop in temperatures. So sadly, I stripped our plants of the hard green balls, realizing that summer is officially gone. The silver lining? I get to make Fried Green Tomatoes, an early autumn pleasure, that I indulge in only after the possibility of ripe fruit is gone. Partnering them with some stewed field peas, a newcomer to our markets, we had a delicious almost vegetarian supper, in spite of the rats.

Field Peas with Tasso and Fried Green Tomatoes

1 teaspoon vegetable oil
2 ounces tasso ham sliced
10 ounces fresh field peas (you could substitute soaked black eyed peas)
¼ cup chicken stock
1 ¾ cup water
1 small tomato, chopped
2 to 3 small green tomatoes, sliced 1/2-inch thick
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1/2 cup cornmeal
1/2 cup buttermilk
dash tabasco
salt to taste
vegetable oil for frying

Heat the vegetable oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Add the ham and cook for about 5 minutes or until lightly browned. Pour in water and stock and bring to a simmer. Add the peas and tomato and cook until the peas are tender 30 to 45 minutes.

Heat about an inch of vegetable oil in a heavy medium skillet to 325 F. Whisk the tabasco into the buttermilk and the salt into the cornmeal. Dredge the tomato slices first in flour, then dip in buttermilk, and then into the cornmeal. Fry the slices until golden and serve on top of the field peas.

Harvest Farewell: Moroccan Spiced Corn Soup

Photo Credit iStock Photo

These are the days of change. Every day, the early autumn sky is dotted by more and more colors - schoolbus yellow, pumpkin orange, and brick red. The temperatures continue to decline, the air turning from humid to crisp. The markets are changing as well, each week the tables shrink, summer's produce disappearing seemingly before our very eyes. All this creates busy days for those of us who seek to capture at least some sliver of the harvest canning, drying and freezing.

This week's market buy destined for the freezer was fresh corn, which I saved in two ways: frozen kernals, shaved from the cob, and then as stock, both of which are put to good use in this recipe.

Moroccan Spiced Corn Soup with Harissa
Serves 4

3 ears corn
1 small shallot
2 sprigs thyme
4 cilantro stems
1 ½ tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1/3 cup finely chopped red onion
1 medium garlic clove, minced
½ Serrano chile, seeded and minced
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon coriander seeds, toasted and finely ground
¾ teaspoon cumin seeds, toasted and finely ground
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1 Yukon Gold potato, cut into 1/8 inch dice
1 ½ tablespoons heavy cream
1 tablespoon finely chopped cilantro
4 teaspoons of harissa

Shuck corn and remove kernels from the cob. Place corn kernels into a bowl. Put cobs into a medium saucepan with shallot, thyme and cilantro stems. Cover with water and bring to a boil. Simmer for 20 minutes. Strain and reserve as corn stock. Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan until hot, but not smoking. Sauté red onion and Serrano chile slightly softened, approximately 2 minutes. Add minced garlic and sauté until fragrant approximately 30 seconds. Sprinkle pan with all-purpose flour and spices and cook, stirring constantly, for 3 minutes. Add 3 cups of the corn stock and bring to a boil. Add potato and simmer for 5 minutes. Add corn kernels and cook for 10 minutes or until corn and potatoes are both tender. Let cool slightly and puree in a food processor. Force through a fine mesh sieve, pressing hard on solids; discard solids. Return to cleaned pan and bring to a simmer. Add kosher salt to taste, about 1 teaspoon. Add heavy cream and cook for 2 minutes. If the soup is too thick, add any remaining corn stock or water. Remove from heat and stir in cilantro. Pour into bowls and top with a teaspoon or less of harissa.

All the Single Ladies: Dana Joy Altman of Real Food Rehab's Alternative Meal Plan

This is the next installment in our alternative menu plans for the Let's Cook series. The first was a family-friendly plan from California's Michelle Stern. This second one comes from closer to home.

Dana Joy Altman is the writer and creatrix behind Real Food Rehab, a blog committed to authentic living and eating. She believes that cultivating a deep understanding of who you are and what you value are key ingredients in the recipe for a rich and beautiful life.

Dana Joy founded the culinary public relations firm, a better place media relations, inc. and served as Assistant Manager of Chicago’s Green City Market under the late, great Abby Mandel. In addition to Real Food Rehab, she writes a weekly food and drink column on The Possessionista and is the author of The Pantry Essentials Guide - a real food guide to the grocery store. She also created and leads the popular exercise class, Dance It Off!

I really love this meal plan for single folks and families alike. It shows that cooking isn't always about long, involved recipes but can instead be about one killer sauce or an awesome salad dressing especially when you use top-notch, fresh from the farm ingredients.

I'm a single gal and I work from home so, on average and with the exception of dining out, I have the luxury of preparing my own meals two or three times a day. Some of you may think I must be joking - luxury? But I'm dead serious. I do consider it a luxury to prepare my own meals. Why? Because I never have to question the quality of my food since I source it. I never have to compromise on what I feel like eating because it's me I'm satisfying. I also welcome the chance to break up a day spent inside my head in front of a computer, to get back into my body and work with my hands in an intuitive, tactile and sensual way.

Right now, as I'm writing this, I'm actually making a breakfast of Eggs en Cocotte. Sound elaborate and fancy? It's three ingredients, took me 2 minutes to prepare and will be ready-to-eat, out of the oven in 15 minutes. That, accompanied by a piece of great toast, is the most beautiful breakfast a girl could ask for.



I think a lot of women still carry the unfortunate stigma around being single and cooking for themselves. For some it brings to mind the image of a lonely spinster shuffling around her kitchen weeping into her biscuits. There's this cultural impression that we should keep up with the new, hot place or thing, be ambitious in the workplace, go to yoga class, fluff and preen and find that man! Wow, does that ever make me tired. I guess I'm at a place where keeping up is no longer appealing or authentic to me. And while I do enjoy a good night out, cultivating domesticity is one of my greatest pleasures. I think cooking for oneself is downright sexy; it connotes a beautiful act of self-care.

I want to clarify that I am not chopping a million ingredients and toiling endlessly in the kitchen every day. Do I have days when the thought of preparing anything is anathema to me? You betcha. I am not above having chips and wine for dinner. It's a guilt-free good time as long as it's an occasional thing and I'm eating good chips and drinking good wine.

I believe in sourcing the very best quality food I can afford. That means I shop farmers' markets in season, and supplement with trips to Whole Foods and smaller, independent food shops. Yes, it is more expensive but I like to feel (and look) good. That's my first priority! I don't like to put foods in my body that have been unnecessarily modified or treated with chemicals. Also, my time is valuable to me and I'd much rather spend it shopping outdoors and from people who are consciously sourcing, growing and handcrafting my food from scratch. I realize this may sound precious and elitist to some but hey, you spend a good amount of money to buy nice clothes and drive a nice car, don't you? In my heart I believe our health is dependent on what we eat and what we think and that's about it. There's nothing precious or elitist about that.

I also make a habit to always keep foods I love and ones that truly satisfy me in my fridge and pantry. This way, even when I don't feel like cooking, at the very least I can throw together a great snack or meal in a snap. After years of denying myself the foods I really love and suffering the tortured consequences, I am committed to enjoying and feeling nurtured by the foods I eat. I don't want to eat anything that's mediocre and I don't have a problem compromising on quantity, but I will not sacrifice quality.

I've found the foods that satisfy me the most have fat in them. I love full fat yogurt, cheese and butter. I adore an occasional croissant. I am mad about skin on chicken thighs and well-marbled steak. And I'm happy to say, they love me back. I am a walking testament to the fact that they alone, do not make you fat.

I also believe it's important to rethink old notions about what you should and shouldn't eat. If you are eating lots of processed, low fat, low calorie foods out of fear because you think you should, I urge you to stop. Because I believe you know, somewhere deep down, that they're not really satisfying you. Let yourself have what it is you really want. Just make sure you either make it yourself from great ingredients or source the very best version of it you can find.

So let me give you an example of what's on rotation right now Chez Dana: I am all about eating as much summer fruit as possible. Breakfast can be a blended smoothie, a bowl of granola, fruit and yogurt, or eggs and toast. It's also easy to improvise when you keep great ingredients around. I recently threw this together for breakfast and it was killer: sliced peaches, bacon, and a slice of Capriole's Mt. St Francis goat cheese on a warm croissant.



I love to eat big salads for lunch. I buy whatever vegetables look good at the market, slice them up and toss them together with some homemade dressing. My salad is usually accompanied by a little protein: it could be leftover chicken or steak from the night before, boiled egg, pickled herring (love the stuff) or a few slices of andouille sausage from Paulina Market. Today it was really warm and all I felt like eating were Jupiter grapes from fruit farmer Mick Klug, Marcona almonds and a slice of Manchego.



For dinner a couple nights a week, I will light wood burning coals in my barbecue and grill a steak, lamb shoulder or a bunch of marinated chicken thighs, eat some and save the rest for the next days meals. Last night I made a salad of lettuces, soft boiled egg, bacon and red wine vinaigrette alongside a bowl of smashed fingerling potatoes with butter, garlic, herbs and salt. I also love pasta with sautéed greens, garlic and olive oil. These are all simple, quick and manageable meals that can be prepared in 30 minutes or less.



Examples of snacks that also double as last minute meals in my home are prosciutto and melon, cheese, crackers, and fruit, pickled veggies with bread and butter, and sometimes kettle chips dipped into my homemade tzatziki. A good piece of chocolate or some fruit drizzled with fresh cream and honey is always a great dessert.

Eating well is about first listening to what your body really wants, keeping your fridge and pantry stocked with foods you love and learning a few skills in the kitchen to help make the food at home that really satisfies you. There are scads of information online, in books, YouTube videos and classes near you that can help you get there.

I also wrote a Pantry Essentials Guide that helps you easily find the best products in the grocery store. I am also available to answer any questions you have, so please email me at danajoy@realfoodrehab.com.

You Say Tomato, I Say Yum: Tomato Soup from the Vine

Busy planning Purple Asparagus' Corks & Crayons, I figured I would resurrect this post since it's on my menu this week given the plethora of tomatoes we have in our garden this year. A friend suggested planting hot peppers next to the tomatoes to deter the squirrels and it's worked!

I first grew tomatoes as a grown-up on a roof deck of a condo building. With two of my friends, we planted, watered and tended ten different heirloom varieties. With visions of BLT's, Caprese salads and pizzas with fresh tomato slice, we watched with great anticipation as some of our crop began to ripen. Finally, one morning, we journeyed up the stairs to harvest our first pick. With great horror, we saw that all of the ripe tomatoes were gone, ripped from their little green stems. Another of our neighbors had unceremoniously tossed them into his salad the evening before. When asked about it, he apologized and offered to replace them from the grocery store. Ugh. As politely as I could muster, I told him that the next harvest was spoken for.

These days we don't need to worry about rude neighbors, but crazy squirrels. Our first tomatoes were marred by bites or carelessly tossed into the beds of other plants. For some reason, as the season has gone on, our rodent friends have lost interest and the tomatoes have been allowed to ripen and turn color. I'm crossing my fingers that one of these days soon we'll have enough to make a bowl of soup as it is the Little Locathor's favorite.

His love of tomato soup all started when he pilfered a bowl of mine at one of our favorite restaurants. After finishing it off, he declared: “Mommy, I finally like soup.”

This recipe doesn’t involve a lot of ingredients, but instead lets the flavor of the tomatoes shine through. Accordingly, use the best and ripest tomatoes that you can find. With the exception of the bay leaf and pepper, I purchased all of the ingredients locally.

Tomato Soup
Serves 6

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
½ large or 1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 garlic clove, minced
1 small celery stalk, thinly sliced
1 small carrot, peeled and thinly sliced
½ bay leaf
2 ½ pounds red ripe tomatoes
Kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper

Roughly chop the tomatoes. Melt the butter in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the onion, garlic, celery, carrot and bay leaf and cook until softened, approximately 7 minute. Scrape in the chopped tomatoes and cook until they have broken down thoroughly about 45 minutes to an hour. Puree the tomatoes in a blender or food processor. Push the puree through a fine mesh strainer or a food mill. Return the strained tomato puree to the saucepan and bring to a simmer. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve in shallow bowls.

Kid Cooking Tips
With a kid safe knife, such as our wavy cutter wavy cutter, kids can cut the totatoes, celery and carrots. They can stir in the ingredients and the soup while it's simmering. Finally, they can assist with pushing the puree through a strainer or a food mill.

What's Grows Together, Goes Together: Pear Squared Salad

Searching for inspiration for a new recipe for this week's Green City Market Sprouts presentation, I had to look no further than the market itself. At Leaning Shed, amongst all of the deliciously different tomatoes, I found some lovely pear shaped ones, a little longer than a cherry. Leaving them alone, I walked only a few stands down to find real pears, a little firm, but nothing that a few days on the counter wouldn't cure. Pears and pears together - natural fit but for the fact that I've never seen pears and tomatoes paired. Nevertheless, intrepid was I, I returned to the Shed and bought a bagful. The resulting recipe, Pear Squared Salad, was a huge hit both among the sprouts and their parents.

Pear Squared Salad
Serves 2-4

2 tablespoons plain yogurt
1/2 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon extra-virgin olive oil
1/8 teaspoon cumin
1/4 teaspoon honey
pinch coriander
pinch cinnamon
pinch kosher salt
1 pear, cored and chopped into small pieces, sprinkled with 1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/2 cup pear tomatoes, quartered
1/2 teaspoon chopped cilantro

Mix together the first eight ingredients in a medium bowl. Add the pears and the pear tomatoes and sprinkle with cilantro.

Garden Fresh Gazpacho

For many years, I had a black thumb. Herbs, annuals, perennials all wilted at my touch. I'd almost given up until I came across the earth boxes at my favorite garden store this year. Starting out with one box, we planted a couple of broccoli seedlings. Within a few weeks they had shot up looking green, leafy and vibrant. I went back and bought a few more boxes, adding peppers, eggplants, and tomatoes. And for the first time, I have a thriving garden from which I made dinner (or at least part of it).

Anyone in Chicago could attest to the heavy, stale heat that we endured on Saturday. A simple walk to our neighborhood street festival and back knocked me out. Needing a pick me up, I made this delicious gazpacho, the gold standard of cold summer soups.

Garden Fresh Gazpacho
Serves 4

Adapted from Gourmet

1 2-inch piece country bread, crusts removed
2 garlic cloves
2 teaspoons salt
2 tablespoons Sherry vinegar
1 teaspoon sugar
2 pounds ripe tomatoes, cored and quartered
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 cucumber peeled and cut into small dice
1 bell pepper seeded and cut into small dice

Soak the bread in water for 1 minute. Squeeze the excess liquid out. Puree the garlic, salt, vinegar, sugar, and 1 1/2 pounds of the tomatoes in a food processor. With the motor running, add the remaining tomatoes and the oil through the feed tube. Push the soup through a fine mesh strainer into a bowl. Stir in the cucumber and pepper. Set the bowl into another larger bowl filled with ice and chill in the refrigerator until very cold.

Easy as Pie: Rasperry-Rhubarb Pie

In scanning through Twitter, I recall a recent blog post, which suggested that farmers' markets can reduce stress. In all due respect, despite my love of them, I do not agree. While farmers' markets have their pastoral qualities and a convivial atmosphere, there's something rather dizzying about them, especially at the height of the season. A dozen different shapes and types of eggplants, squash, beans, and greens, I want to buy them all. What's for dinner is never a simple question for a farmers' market shopper. This can be particularly dangerous for market newbies. Who hasn't overbought at one time or another during summer's zenith?

In contrast, there's something so comforting about my CSA share. I love it not only because I get a manageable amount of certified organic produce, but also because I know that I'm eating exactly what I should. So for example, this weekend, we had good friends of ours over for dinner. Ordinarily, during the market season, I agonize over my menus - there's so much available and so many recipes to try. It could take me takes me hours to create one that seemed to make sense, one that I would change almost the instant, I stepped into the circle of market tents. This year, my menu was circumscribed by the box I'd picked up earlier in the week.

At first, when I opened it up to find a few stalks of rhubarb, I groaned. Believe me, we ate our fair share of it, at the end of May, in savory and sweet dishes. Plus, I've got bags of it packed away in freezer bags for the leaner months. But then I remembered the many recipes I've seen partnering rhubarb and raspberries - two ingredients I've never found together at the market. Pulling up my easy and stress-free pie crust recipe. I mixed, rolled, and baked my garnet-shaded pie over the course of an afternoon.

Raspberry-Rhubarb Pie
Serves 8

2 ½ cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
2 sticks unsalted butter, cut into small pieces, chilled
¼ - ½ cup ice water
3 cups fresh or frozen raspberries
3 cups sliced fresh or frozen rhubarb (1/2-inch thick)
1 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

Mix together the flour, salt, and sugar in the bowl of a food processor. Add butter and process until the mixture is sandy. Pour in the water through the feed tube, while pulsing. Pulse until the mixture just starts to hold together. Line a medium bowl loosely with plastic wrap. If you have a scale, measure 10 ounces of dough into it and wrap up the dough pressing it into a flat disc. Repeat with remaining dough. Chill for an hour. A half hour after you put it into chill, preheat the oven to 400 F. If you leave it in for longer, you'll have to let it soften outside of the fridge for a little while to make it pliable. Roll the larger disc to a 1/4-1/8-inch thick. Fit it into a 9-inch pie plate. Trim and crimp the edges. Prick the dough with a fork. Cover with aluminum foil and weight with dried beans or pie weights. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Remove the foil and weights and let cool. Increase the heat to 425 F.

Combine the raspberries, rhubarb, sugar, and salt. Scrape into the cooled crust. Roll out the remaining crust to 1/8-inch thick and cut into 1/4-inch slices. Weave into a lattice and seal at the edges. Brush with egg wash (1 egg yolk - 1 tablespoon milk).
Return to the oven and bake for 1 hour.

Cool and serve, preferably the same day.

The Blushing Maiden of Summer: Apricot-Lavender Jam

There's little more sensuous than summer stone fruits. Take the cherry, dripping with ruby juices - how many double entendres can you think of of using that small pitted orb? The peach is a brash redhead with its luxurious fuzz; the nectarine, only a slightly tamer and more refined cousin. We mustn't forget the plum, a little tart with brightly covered vestments.

But what about the apricot, the blushing maiden of summer? We've never quite developed the same level of desire for it. Perhaps, it's our lack of knowledge about of the little fruit - many years it barely appears at the market, hiding behind more showy relations. Others, it does but proves to be a terrible disappointment, fibrous and flavorless. What a delight then it is to have a year like this. Easily freed from its stone, this year's apricot is the color of a Caribbean sunset melting into a red brick building. The flesh is firm, yet tender, perfect for preserving.

The apricot may make only one more appearance at our markets and therefore my suggestion is to run, not walk, to yours to find even a small box. Once you do, run, not walk, back home to capture its maidenhood in your canning jars.

Apricot-Lavender Jam
1 1/2 pints

3 cups peeled, sliced apricots
2 cups granulated sugar
1 sprig lavender

Mix together the ingredients in a medium, non-reactive bowl. Cover and let sit overnight. Scrape the mix into a large saucepan and bring to a boil over medium-high heat, stirring frequently with a wooden spoon, mashing the slices to a pulp. Cook for about 10 minutes or until the jam drops in large gobs from the spoon and the apricots have broken down. Remove the lavender sprig and pour into hot, sterilized jars. Process for 5 minutes in a hot water bath. Remove the jars from the bath and cool on a clean towel without touching. Check the seal and then store in a cool, dark location.

Strawberries: Salsa Style!

Seedling's weekly email tells proclaims that this is the strawberry's peak week. To celebrate this, we're eating strawberries every day: in our cereals, in our yogurt, in our smoothies, and in our salsa. Salsa? Yes, salsa. With a bit of red tomato, it's a terrific partner to grilled chicken, fish tacos, and even chips. Get it while you can.


Paired with Fish Tacos

Strawberry Salsa
Makes approximately 1 ½ cups

¾ cup strawberries, cut into small dice
½ tomato, cut into small dice
2 tablespoons diced red onion
¼ Serrano chile, minced
1 tablespoon cilantro or mint, finely chopped
1 teaspoon lime juice

Mix all ingredients in a medium bowl and serve with chips or as a sauce for fish or chicken.