It's Picadillo, Yo

Never in my life would I have thought the combination of ground beef, raisins and green olives would be so delicious... until I met my friend Barbara, who introduced me to picadillo, which is kind of like the Cuban version of spaghetti (except it doesn't have noodles).

Her version calls for sofrito, a speciality mix of herbs, garlic, onions and green peppers, that she brought back from her trips to Orlando or Miami. The enormous bucket of it would last forever in its brightly green glory in my refrigerator... until once when my mother thought it was that green color from mold, and then threw it away.

Harumph.

So, since the grocery store version of sofrito is red and more acidic - and since I can't travel to Orlando every time I want to make picadillo - a simple saute' of onions, garlic, green bell peppers and a splash of olive brine or white wine vinegar will do. You could use Recaita, the green stuff found next to the Sofrito on the grocery store shelf, but I prefer the fresh mix as opposed to the jarred version.

I am still surprised that no store in Atlanta carries this mixture, but I keep looking for it. If anyone knows of a farmers market that does carry it, please let me know. In the meantime, enjoy the delightful mix of savory and sweet in picadillo, which you can throw together in less than half an hour. I serve it over white rice, but you could easily use it as a filling for tacos, empanadas, enchiladas, bell peppers or over crusty bread.

Picadillo

Ingredients:
- 1 lb. ground beef, 80-90 percent lean
- 1 medium onion, chopped
- 1 seeded and diced green bell pepper
- 2-3 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 large russet potato, peeled and diced into small pieces (optional)
- 1 8 oz. can tomato sauce
- Olive brine to taste
- 1 bay leaf
- 10-15 pimento-stuffed green olives, cut in half
- 1/3 cup raisins
- 1 tsp. dried oregano or 1 Tbsp. fresh oregano
- Salt and pepper to taste

Directions:
In a skillet over medium heat, brown the ground beef, onion, green pepper and garlic. Drain off excess fat and add potatoes, if using. Toss to combine. Add tomato sauce, olive brine, bay leaf and bring to a simmer. Add olives, raisins and oregano. Cover and simmer over medium low heat for 20 minutes, until potatoes are tender. Add salt and pepper to taste, and serve over steamed white rice. If you are using the mixture as an empanada, enchilada or bell pepper stuffing, continue to simmer over medium low heat until most the of the liquid has evaporated.

Say it with something homemade, even if it's a ski slope

I am so glad I didn't inherit my mother's cake-baking genes. This woman can make homemade bread with a smell so wonderful a line forms around the block (I mean that figuratively - she lives on a lake so there is no "block"), grow an enviable organic garden and tell you what region most coffees comes from upon tasting them, but when it comes to making cakes, she is all thumbs - er, ski slopes.

I don't know how she does it, but across multiple homes, ovens, cake pans and recipes, each homemade cake she attempts is sloped on one end. The woman can even do it with brownies.

I've watched her from start to finish before, just to see if she kind of, you know, slams the pan into the oven with greater force than any other dish, but no, she's just talented at making really tasty cakes that have a whole lot of batter on one side and not so much on the other.

Once, she produced a cake so diagonal that she covered it in green icing, poked a hole in one end and added a flag made from a toothpick in front of the hole. "It's a putting green!" she exclaimed proudly upon presenting the cake to my stepfather for his birthday. He just shook his head. He knows better than that.

My cakes do not turn out this way, thank goodness. But just in case yours usually do - or if you always resort to boxed cake mixes and canned frostings (that's "icing" to us Southerners), give this homemade yellow cake and chocolate frosting a go. If you have an electric mixer, from start to finish this will only take you an hour, which is about the same length of time a boxed mix will take. Believe me, you can tell the difference between a homemade one and a store-bought one or mix, especially on the second day, when this golden cake becomes even moister. (Is that a word?)

You don't have to drag out the layer cake pans if you're making this for someone special: a sheet cake or cupcakes will be just as tasty. And yes, it does call for butter-flavored shortening, but don't try to substitute an equal shortening-for-butter ratio. Shortening is 100 percent fat, and butter is not, so you will need to look up the substitution method --- though I highly recommend using the shortening. When in doubt, full fat is best.


Yellow Layer Cake
Ingredients:
- 3/4 cup butter flavored shortening
- 2 cups sugar
- 1 cup plain flour
- 1 cup self-rising flour
- 5 eggs
- 1 cup milk
- 1 T. vanilla flavoring

Directions:
Cream shortening and sugar until light and fluffy. Sift together plain and self-rising flour and set aside. Add eggs to sugar mixture and mix well. Add flour and milk alternately. Add vanilla. Pour into a greased and floured 9x13 cake pan, three 8- or 9-inch round cake pans or into a muffin tin with cupcake liners. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-25 minutes.


Perfect Chocolate Frosting
Ingredients:
- 1 6-ounce package semi-sweet chocolate morsels
- 1/2 cup half and half
- 3/4 cup butter
- 2 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted

Directions:
Combine chocolate morsels, half and half and butter in a saucepan; cook over medium heat, stirring until chocolate melts. Remove from heat, add confectioners' sugar and mix well. Set saucepan in ice or ice water (important) and beat until frosting holds its shape and loses its gloss. Add a few drops of half and half if need to make spreading consistency. Note: This frosting needs to cool completely, so you cannot "hurry" it. Keep beating until it is glossy.

Chicken Cattiatore, or What to Do With All of Those Other White Beans

I'm humoring myself and assuming that maybe one of you cooked the entire pound of white beans as suggested in the previous blog entry and didn't just resort to using canned, rinsed white beans (though that certainly will do). Like I said before, the big pot o' white beans is just a more economical approach to stocking your pantry with multiple cans of white beans. And now you - that one person - are wondering what in the world you will do with another half-pound of frozen white beans.

The answer, dear faithful sole follower, is in my variation of Nigella Lawson's Chicken Cattiatore. (I have to look up how to spell that word every time I write it.) It is simply "chicken cooked in the hunter's way," for you, that means it's a one-pot meal that could potentially be cooked over a campfire. Don't worry; it's stovetop-friendly, too.

Here at Will Blog for Food, I'm a big fan of one-pot meals, and well, so is my husband. Few things make him happier than facing only one pot to wash after a delicious dinner. And oh, how I love me some Nigella Lawson! She speaks food poetry, lyrical recipes, even, with her usage of words such as "jewel-toned vegetables," and "Let it come to a bubble" instead of "Let it boil." Lovely! My words won't sound as fancy (that's "faincy" if I was saying it out loud) as hers do, but I'll try.
I discovered Nigella's recipe after seeing her show "Nigella Express" (Love it! Please bring it back, FN!) on the Food Network, and maybe some measurements are lost in the metric system conversion, but somehow, each time I made it, the dish seemed more like soup instead of the thickened dish seen on the Food Network. After some experiments and tweaking, I figured out the answer: Cut the chicken into smaller pieces, add a little thickener and let it cook with the lid off.

On another thrifty note, chicken thighs are more flavorful and less expensive than chicken breasts, though for the sake of time, I do recommend spending a bit more on the boneless, skinless chicken thighs. This meal comes together in 20-25 minutes, especially if you snip the bacon and green onions with kitchen shears right over the pot, instead of dragging out the knife and cutting board.

One last plug: I made this for my mom once when she was visiting for the weekend, and she immediately demanded the recipe. Economical, one dish and healthy, with a dose of fiber from the white beans, this Chicken Cattiatore is all that a one-pot meal should be.

Chicken Cattiatore

Ingredients:
- 1 T. olive oil
- 4 slices bacon, chopped, preferably center-cut
- 6 green onions or 1/2 c. chopped white onions
- 2 T. minced garlic (about three large cloves)
- 1/2 tsp. dried rosemary, slightly crumbled between your fingers
- 1 lb. boneless, skinless chicken thighs, cut into bite-sized pieces
- 2 T. all-purpose flour
- 1/2 tsp. Old Bay seasoning
- 1/2 c. dry white wine
- 1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
- 2 bay leaves
- 1/2 tsp. sugar
- 1/2 lb. thawed white beans (cannellini), or two cans drained, rinsed white beans

Directions:
Heat the oil over medium heat in a large saucepan, and add the bacon and onions. Fry until the bacon renders its fat, 4-5 minutes. Add the garlic and rosemary and stir. Add the chicken pieces to the pan and sprinkle the flour and Old Bay over. Toss everything together. Pour in the wine next, then add the tomatoes (undrained), bay leaves and sugar. Stir everything and let simmer uncovered for about 10 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through. Stir in the white beans at the end and serve. Serves 4.

Some apologize with flowers; I say I'm sorry with Sausage and White Beans.

To all three of my readers, I apologize. In April, I transitioned from working at home to working 40+ hours a week in an office, writing on a computer all day long. With all of that computer-writing, the last thing I wanted to do when I got home was write even more on a computer.

But I missed writing about food, so I'm back. And all of this working has me cooking new, creative meals that I can throw together when I get home at 6:30 p.m.

One of the meals that I always come back to is Sausage with White Beans, a recipe I modified from my favorite food blog, Simply Recipes. I think I've spoken before about the fantastic chicken and turkey sausage at my beloved Farmer's Market; if I haven't, that Farmer's Market is worthy of its own blog post.

This one-pot meal was meant to be served during the winter, for it is hearty, hot and filling. However, one can easily turn on a fan and enjoy it as well. (Really, it's not that bad.)

First is my friend Barbara's brilliant suggestion for cooking dried white beans in a slow cooker. It's perfect - just pick out the bad beans, add into the slow cooker with water and three measly ingredients that you'll always have in your pantry, set and forget (forgive the Billy Mays-esque plug there - R.I.P., Mr. Mays.). No soaking or watching over a pot for an hour or two. Freeze the leftovers in freezer bags with a little of their cooking liquid, and you'll always have an array of beans onhand that's a more economical and less salty subsitution for canned beans. Plus, you can use that lovely, mushy garlic that results from the all-day cookery.

Now, on to the recipe(s):

Crock-Pot Beans
Ingredients:
- 1 1-lb. bag dried cannelini (or any other kind of) beans
- 3-4 cloves garlic, smashed and peeled
- 2 bay leaves
- 1/2 tsp. salt or smoked sea salt
- Water

Directions:
Briefly pick through the beans and remove any broken beans or stones. Pour beans and next three ingredients in a medium-sized slow cooker, and add about 32 oz. of water (or three times as much water as you have beans). Cook on low for 6 hours or on high for 3 hours for more firm beans; cook on low for 8 hours or on high for 4 hours for softer beans.

Sausage and White Beans
Ingredients:
- 1 lb. bulk sausage, preferably hot turkey or chicken sausage
- 1-2 tablespoons olive oil
- 2 cloves garlic, chopped
- Red pepper flakes and salt to taste
- Dried sage (optional)
- 14 oz. chopped tomatoes in puree
- Reserved cooked garlic cloves (optional)
- 1/2 c. bean cooking liquid (if you don't have it, 1/4 c. water will work instead)
- 1/2 lb. cooked white beans, or two cans of white beans, drained and rinsed

Directions:
Heat a pan over medium heat and add olive oil. Saute garlic for 30 seconds, then add sausage, breaking up with the back of a wooden spoon. Spread the sausage out in the pan, and don't stir it often so it can brown. When sausage is browned, sprinkle salt, red pepper flakes and sage over. Add tomatoes in puree, and be careful, because the pan will bubble like mad. Stir the tomatoes and scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the pan. Add the cooked garlic cloves if using, mash and mix into the sauce. Turn off the heat and add the cooked white beans at the end, gently folding them into the mixture so they don't get smashed. You will want the beans whole. Serves 4.

Chili, chocolate and warm spring nights

As much as warm weather inspires me to eat cooler meals, it also inspires me to eat spicy foods. The spicier, the better -- anytime, really. For spring and summer, I just figure, hey, I'm already kind of sweaty, why not eat something hot too? (Actually, that's kind of gross.)

Maybe it's because spicy foods go so darn well with margaritas, mojitos and ice-cold beer. Like I need an excuse to down one of those!

This is my own (healthy) chili recipe, formulated from much experimentation about what I like. Good chili is all about the balance of flavors - acid from the tomatoes, heat from the chili powder (and chopped green chilies, in this case) and kernels of sweet corn for cool relief. Chili needs to be hot on the surface, but have depth of flavor as well. And for this recipe, that's where the chocolate comes in.

In Cincinatti, the chili comes chock full 'o cinnamon, and that sounds a little disgusting to me. But if you add a small square (or more) of dark chocolate to your chili, the sugar balances out the tomatoes' acidity and gives your chili a lovely, smoky brown color. Just a warning - the more chocolate you add, the more salt you'll have to add as well.

I'm not a fan of pre-seasoned chili mixes because they're mostly made of salt. I prefer chili powder, which can be found in the spice section of your grocery store. After serving yourself a bowl of this chili, feel free to add a dollop of light sour cream, shredded cheddar and chopped fresh cilantro. The best news? This chili can be cooked and on the table in 20 minutes.

Chocolate Turkey Chili

Ingredients:
- 1 pound ground turkey breast
- 1/2 onion, chopped
- 1 can black beans, rinsed
- 1 can kidney beans, rinsed
- 1 28 oz. can diced tomatoes, undrained
- 1 small can chopped green chilies
- 1/2 cup frozen corn kernels (no need to thaw beforehand)
- Chili powder and sea salt to taste
- 1/5 bar good-quality dark chocolate (65% or more cacao)

Instructions:

In a large nonstick saucepan or Dutch oven over medium heat, brown the turkey and onions with a little olive oil. Add the next five ingredients, adding water if mixture looks too chunky. Stir in at least 1/2 tablespoon of chili powder and taste for heat level. Add more chili powder if necessary. Bring mixture to a boil and add chocolate, stirring constantly after the chocolate addition. Let mixture simmer over medium-low to medium heat for 10 minutes, and taste before adding salt at the end. (Since some of the water cooks out, adding salt earlier could result in a saltier end result.) Ladle into bowls and serve.

Sweet potato and blue cheese, brought to you by an idiot

An idiot gave me this recipe.

No, seriously, I used to work with this guy that was, essentially, "that guy" times 100. He was a PowerPoint presentation builder who not only stretched out and took a nap behind a desk in the video studio during work hours, but he often fell asleep and SNORED while sitting up at his desk.

He said he should have been credited with doing the first successful angioplasty because he performed open heart surgery on his hamster when he was seven years old. He went on and on about how "spacefoam" would take over all of our lives (still not really sure what that is), and let his small children roam about his house without diapers. He must have let his pet bird do the same, because once he came into the office with bird doo on his shoulder, unbeknownst to him.

Once, he was off on a tangent about how people from the South are all uneducated (ahem), and I was really starting to get mad. To make me feel better, he said, "Jaime, I know the South. I used to live in a log cabin (in upstate New York, mind you). I used to have to use an outhouse."

What? Okay, maybe I can let the "uneducated Southerners" comment slide, but insisting we don't have running water?! Come on.

I had almost written him off completely until he brought this sweet potato and blue cheese casserole in for our work potluck. Warm, soft sweet potato, sharp blue cheese and buttery sage with cream! I got seconds and thirds and even took some home. I put a smile on my face and asked for the recipe (by email, of course), and thankfully, the recipe didn't come with a story about how he invented sweet potatoes.

And y'all, I have tried and tried to make this recipe low-fat, but nothing holds up to high heat like heavy cream. Sometimes I've gotten evaporated milk to work, but... I advise you to just go ahead and use the heavy cream. It's worth it.

Also, a note about the blue cheese in this recipe: It pays to get really good blue cheese, like Stilton, Gorgonzola or Danish blue, the kind you have to crumble yourself, from the specialty cheese section of your market. However, if you're trying to cut some of the fat, Publix brand's reduced-fat Gorgonzola has more flavor than others.

Sweet Potato and Blue Cheese Casserole

Ingredients:
- 3 large sweet potatoes, peeled and cut lengthwise in 1/8" slices
- 8 ounces blue cheese
- 1/4 to 1/2 cup fresh sage leaves
- 1 pint heavy cream
- Butter
- Salt
- White pepper (If you don't have it, black pepper will work fine.)

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Butter a 9x13 pan.

In a saucepan over medium heat, melt several tablespoons of butter and add the sage leaves. Saute' until the sage leaves wilt slightly and absorb all of the butter. Set aside.

Lay a row of sweet potato slices like shingles in the bottom of the pan. Sprinkle with salt and white pepper, then disperse half of the sage leaves over the top. Sprinkle 1/3 of the blue cheese over that. Repeat the layers, ending with blue cheese on the top and no sage. Pour the heavy cream over all. It should come up to about 1 inch below the top of the dish. Bake for 30-40 minutes, until all of the cream is absorbed.

Chocolate chip cheese ball! Chocolate chip cheese ball!

Contrary to this blog's title, I do not normally feel the need to shout recipes at people. But sometimes, a recipe shouts at you first.

That is, like, so deep, man.

One of my friends always brought this chocolate chip cheese ball to my group of friends' wine and cheese parties in college. Though I had never seen it before she introduced it to us, I became so accustomed to it during my college years that I thought everyone else already knew about it.

... Until my husband and I hosted an engagement party in January, and man, did people go for this chocolate chip cheese ball. Not only did they rave about it, they congregated around it. "What's in this, crack?" they asked, while shoveling fistfuls of cookie and cream cheese into their mouths. (Well... yes. You got me. It is crack.) I can't tell you how many times I emailed the recipe to party attendees after the party. As people wrote on my Facebook page for the recipe, others would read their posts and also ask about it, intrigued.

Contrary to what I wrote in the paragraph above, the secret to this not-so-fancy dessert is not crack. (And to one of my other friends: It's not a cheddar cheese ball with chocolate chips stuck to it, either. Ha!) It's the combination of everything fattening and good that makes it so wonderful: butter, cream cheese, sugar, more sugar, vanilla, chocolate chips, and possibly pecans. My friend from college always served it solely with graham crackers, but I find the addition of vanilla wafers and chocolate wafer cookies adds a textural vehicle to the recipe.

Consider yourself warned: This stuff is addictive. (Hmm, maybe there is crack in it after all...)

Chocolate Chip Cheese Ball

Ingredients:
- 1 (8 ounce) package cream cheese, softened
- 1/2 cup butter, softened
- 3/4 cup confectioners' sugar
- 2 tablespoons brown sugar
- 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
- 1 12 oz. package miniature semisweet chocolate chips
- 3/4 cup finely chopped pecans (optional)
- Graham crackers, vanilla wafers, chocolate wafer cookies

Directions:

In a medium bowl, beat together cream cheese and butter until smooth. Mix in confectioners' sugar, brown sugar and vanilla. Stir in chocolate chips, reserving a handful for garnish. Cover and chill in the refrigerator for 2 hours. I've found chilling it overnight works best.

Shape chilled cream cheese mixture into a ball. Wrap with plastic, and chill in the refrigerator for 1 hour.

Sprinkle the outside with chocolate chips and pecans (if using) before serving. Arrange in the center of a platter with rows of graham crackers (broken into eighths), vanilla wafers and chocolate wafer cookies around.

Southerners and casseroles are like peas and carrots... and mayonnaise

I so am from the South. It's not only in my head; it's in my blood. I'm a fourth-generation native Georgian, the daughter and granddaughter of Georgia peanut farmers. And I love that fact. Where else is college football a religion, pearls a requirement and meat a necessary ingredient in vegetables?

The meat-and-vegetable comment brings me to my latest subject, casseroles. Casseroles and Southern go together like wine and cheese, spaghetti and meatballs, like cabbage and mayonnaise.

Wait... what?

Yes, cabbage and mayonnaise. Though this particular blog won't delve into the cabbage-and-mayo casserole recipe that was given to me at one of my bridal showers, I will explain this: Southerners can take any perfectly healthy vegetable, add some butter, mayonnaise, cheese and bread crumbs, bake it at 325 degrees, and it's a casserole. (Man, doesn't that sound good right now? Mmm...)

This particular casserole is brought to you by my favorite cookbook, "A Standing Invitation," the Dawson United Methodist ladies' collection. Yes, it's a church ladies' cookbook, so you can thereby rest assured that whatever is going to come out of it is going to be good, 'cause y'all, church ladies know how to cook. But don't just take my word for it: This cookbook is so fantastic that it was first printed in 1990 and is still regularly printed throughout the South, nearly 20 years after its initial printing. I have managed to acquire three copies of it throughout my lifetime, one that's autographed by the original editor, Lynette Cowart, who was part of a story I wrote for The Albany Herald at my first job out of college. She wrote a nice note to me inside the front cover, where she spoke about how much she loved my grandmother and mother.

Don't just look at the ingredients list and sigh --- the combination of these flavors is sheer magic that only tried-and-true Southern church ladies can create. The following is my quick-cooking variation on Mrs. Homer (Ruby) McDaniel's lovely recipe. It's important to note that in no way do I ever measure the vegetable ingredients; I just add how ever much I feel like on that day. Please feel free to do the same.

Sausage Casserole

Ingredients:
-1 pound bulk sausage (I switch between my local farmers' market's homemade turkey sausage and Jimmy Dean's reduced-fat pork sausage, even though the latter is 12 oz. instead of a pound)
- 4 1/2 cups water
- 2 packages dry chicken noodle soup mix (soup with chicken broth)
- 1/2 cup uncooked brown Minute rice
- 1/2 cup green pepper, chopped
- 1 cup celery, chopped
- 1 cup onion, chopped

Directions:
Brown sausage and drain. Mix water, soup and rice together and boil for seven minutes. Mix in sausage, pepper, celery and onions. Place in a long baking dish. Cover with foil and bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes.

Mr. Chicken, I'm sorry I molested you with lemons

Until a few days ago, I had never cooked a whole chicken. Economical and relatively painless (ahem, for the one cooking the bird, that is), roasting your own whole chicken makes a lot of sense - and cents. Plus, it gave me an excuse to turn leftovers into The Best Caesar Salad Ever (recipe to come) the next day.

I used Ina Garten's Lemon Chicken with Croutons recipe from my oft-used cookbook, "Barefoot in Paris." It was simple and delicious. The idea is that you roast a 4- to 5-pound chicken with lemons on a bed of sliced onions, which creates this fantastic juice that you pour over homemade croutons. By the way, I find homemade croutons to be an interesting, unusual side for thinner sauces, as opposed to doing the same ole' thing with mashed potatoes and gravy.

But y'all, as delicious as this recipe was... for a moment, let's consider that poor, poor chicken. My first instructions in the recipe were to "clean out the chicken." Wow, was THAT disgusting! First, my chicken was still slightly frozen inside his, um, keister, so aside from my fingers becoming completely numb, I wasn't really sure what I was pulling out. I found myself laughing in the kitchen at what I was doing (I'm such a sick jerk, right?) to keep from yakking in the sink.

Allegedly, all of these funky chicken parts should come in a neat little bag for easy removal. Mine did not. Upon further research, here is what you could possibly pull out of a chicken: Giblets (used for gravy, but I find them disgusting and metallic-tasting), the kidney, heart and a flap of fat. You feelin' my disgust now? Uh huh.

But on to the recipe. This recipe is almost exactly Ina Garten's recipe, as it's an easy one for someone who's never roasted a chicken before, except I don't know how she fit two quartered lemons in that chicken's cavity. With lots of struggle, I could only fit one. I put the other four lemon pieces in with the onions. Ina, mazel tov; you have a better talent for molesting chickens than I do. Bon appetit.

Lemon Chicken with Croutons

Ingredients:
- 1 (4- to 5- pound) roasting chicken
- 1 large yellow onion, sliced
- Olive oil
- Salt
- Pepper
- 2 lemons, quartered
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
- 6 cups (3/4-inch) bread cubes from one French baguette

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees.

Take the giblets out of the chicken and wash it inside and out. Remove any excess fat and leftover pinfeathers. Toss the onion with a little olive oil in a small roasting pan (I used my fantastic Le Creuset Dutch oven... because I got it for Christmas and wanted to use it.) Place the chicken on top and sprinkle the inside of the cavity with salt and pepper. Place the lemons inside the chicken. Pat the outside of the chicken dry with paper towels, brush it with the melted butter, and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Tie the legs together with kitchen string (I didn't, and it was fine), and tuck the wing tips under the body of the chicken. (That part is important so the wing tips don't burn.)

Roast for 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 hours, or until the juices run clear when you cut between the leg and the thigh. Cover with foil and allow to sit at room temperature for 15 minutes. (The onions may burn, but the flavor is good.)

Meanwhile, heat a large saute' pan with 2 tablespoons olive oil until very hot. Lower the heat to medium low and saute' the bread cubes, tossing frequently, until nicely browned, 8 to 10 minutes. Add more olive oil as needed and sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon salt and 1/4 teaspoon pepper. Place the croutons on a serving platter. Slice the chicken and place it, plus all of the pan juices, over the croutons. Sprinkle with salt and serve warm.

If Vietnam and France had a baby...

Wait a minute. No one ever told me (not until last week, actually) that Vietnam and France -- arguably my two favorite countries of culinary origin -- got together and birthed their own cuisine, a street food named bánh mì! Look for it in Atlanta at Quoc Huong, 5150 Buford Hwy. NE, Doraville, in the quite-crowded Asian Square.

Mind, consider yourself officially blown.

I won't go into why two seemingly polar opposite countries - a proud, Western European nation and an equally proud, war-torn Asian nation - had a gastronomical baby, but I'm grateful they did. Instead, I'll explain what makes each cuisine so distinct and wonderful.

Words that make me think of French food: Rich, heavy, cream, classic, wine, butter, cheese, thick, flaky, pastry, indulgent... Outside of creme brulee', French fries and escargot, think of mealy, crispy, thin potatoes fried in duck fat, medium-rare steaks drizzled with a transparent, light buerre blanc (butter sauce) and chives, and tiny pots of luxurious chicken liver pate' topped with a contrastingly sharp, tangy apple jelly. Think of my favorite dessert, chocolate mousse, and all of the beauty in the masterful manipulation of its three simple ingredients: cream, the best melted chocolate and eggs.

I'd describe Vietnamese food with words such as fresh, light, vegetables, basil, pickled, cilantro, fish sauce, noodles, rice paper, quick, charcoal, spring, satisfying, varied... So many separate, contrasting flavors can be found in one dish. My favorite dish, bún chả, has crisp, cool lettuce, cilantro, julienned carrots and cucumber underneath room-temperature vermicelli noodles, charcoal-cooked pork tenderloin, tiny, crispy fried onions and chopped peanuts, with spicy, sweet fish sauce to pour over all. Each forkful produces a slightly different flavor.

Then there's the Vietnamese-French lovechild, bánh mì, a rice-and-wheat flour baguette sandwich filled with pickled vegetables, jalapenos, and that charcoal-cooked, thinly sliced pork tenderloin. The sauce is pate' and mayonnaise, or pate' and bright yellow butter, with a choice of additional sauces, ranging from kinda-spicy to melt-your-face-off, to pour over. The combination and juxtaposition of the two culinary worlds is divine and everything you could hope for: Light and heavy, fresh and rich, sharp and luxurious, herbs and meat, summer and winter.

Since the baguette is made with rice flour and wheat flour, it's lighter than most. In other words, it won't bog down the flavors of the sandwich, this delightful street food, and, ahem, it also won't cut the roof of your mouth. (One of my college roommates seriously injured herself on a French baguette once in a certain well-known sandwich and soup place. No, seriously, the upper piece of that hard bread went in between her gum and tooth... it was not pretty.)

And did I mention the sandwich is only $2.00? Yes, you read that right - two small bucks for one amazing 8" piece o'heaven. So you should go... and witness the birth of what might be the world's most perfect food! That reminds me, it's lunch time...

It's not dirty; it's delicious!

Okay, this is my first blog entry here, and it should be duly noted that this food inspired me to write a blog at all. If that isn't divine inspiration, I don't know what is.

Speaking of divine, I can't stop eating these Forget-About-'Em cookies, or Easter Cookies, which is what I will henceforth refer to as "Lovely Little Puffs of Marshmallow Heaven." Forget that the primary ingredient is egg whites and you bake them, for these ain't yo' mama's rock-hard meringue cookies. These are edible clouds. As soon as you pop one into your mouth, the rest of the pan is as good as done for.

Think of the texture of a marshmallow, with the flavor of divinity and a slight outside crispiness.

This is my adaptation of a recipe that was originally found on my favorite recipe blog, Simply Recipes. The idea of Easter Cookies is that in some variation of the Catholic faith - Greek Orthodox or something - the cookies are made to teach children about what Easter's all about. They have a story, which I won't go into. Anyway, kids make them the night before Easter, put them in the oven, turn the oven off, and wake up to delicious, gooey goodness on Easter morning. For the same reason, they're called "Forget-About-'Em Cookies;" you put them in the oven, turn the oven off, and forgetaboutit, if you're channeling the Sopranos.

Me? I'm channeling the "I-Want-Them-Now" gods, and waiting overnight just wasn't going to work, so I shortened the process. Here's what you should know about me - I'm selfish, and I like to eat --- like, now. :) I made the batch in my KitchenAid mixer (wonderful, wonderful tool) at 3:45, put them in the oven for 10-15 minutes, and at 4:15 p.m., half of the pan is gone, I'm blogging and the mouse is sticky. Don't let your mind wander on the latter statement... it's just sugar, y'all.

Ahem. So here's my quick version of Forget-About-'Ems, because if you do happen to forget these are in your kitchen, I'll find you and eat them all:

Quick! Forget-About-'Ems!

Ingredients:
- Pinch salt
- 3 egg whites
- 1 teaspoon white vinegar (but today I used white wine vinegar and it was cool)
- 1 cup sugar
- 1 teaspoon vanilla
- 1 cup chopped pecans, or mini-chocolate chip morsels, or chopped toffee candy, or whatever floats your marshmallow boat

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Spread chopped pecans on a baking sheet in a single layer and bake for five minutes.

While those are baking, place the pinch of salt in the bottom of your KitchenAid mixer bowl. Add egg whites, and turn the mixer on pretty high, like a 6 or 8 setting. When bubbles start to form, add a teaspoon of white vinegar. The little cap is a good measure (as long as it's little). When the egg whites really start to foam up, gradually add the cup of sugar and the vanilla. Continue to beat (or rather, let the KitchenAid mixer beat - let's face it; you're not doing much at this point besides anticipating yumminess) until stiff peaks form. You'll know stiff peaks have formed when you take the whisk attachment off and the egg whites stand up on the end of it.

Fold in the toasted chopped pecans with a plastic spatula. Drop lethargically on a baking sheet lined with a silicone mat or two layers of parchment (not wax! It will smoke!) paper.

Place sheet pan in the oven and turn the oven off. After 10 minutes, turn the oven back on to 300. Let the cookies bake for two minutes at 300 degrees, then turn it back off and wait for five minutes. Let cool... or don't. They're so, so good either way.