Tonight's dinner was suprisingly culturally coherent.
The protein portion of the meal was provided by halloumi, or, as we call it, "The cheese what grills." Halloumi is also the cheese what squeaks between your teeth and the cheese what gets a lovely golden crust. It's a handy thing to have sitting around in a vacuum-sealed container in one's fridge. I fried it up on a nonstick griddle and sprinkled it with chopped piquillo peppers, chopped capers, and fresh lemon juice.
I also made a batch of my new favorite green bean dish. It's from Paula Wolfert's The Cooking of the Eastern Mediterranean, which I picked up because (a) I'd heard that it had a lot of vegetarian recipes, which it assuredly does, and (b) I love Paula Wolfert.
The protein portion of the meal was provided by halloumi, or, as we call it, "The cheese what grills." Halloumi is also the cheese what squeaks between your teeth and the cheese what gets a lovely golden crust. It's a handy thing to have sitting around in a vacuum-sealed container in one's fridge. I fried it up on a nonstick griddle and sprinkled it with chopped piquillo peppers, chopped capers, and fresh lemon juice.
I also made a batch of my new favorite green bean dish. It's from Paula Wolfert's The Cooking of the Eastern Mediterranean, which I picked up because (a) I'd heard that it had a lot of vegetarian recipes, which it assuredly does, and (b) I love Paula Wolfert.
Is she ever wrong? I haven't seen it yet. Some of her recipes are intimidatingly elaborate, and some of those I have to just pass on by, but in part that's because she's so admirably thorough. (Sometimes it really is a matter of a dish that involves eighteen steps over six days, with three or four pieces of equipment that you don't own and wouldn't know where to find. But often not.) And there are many simple recipes, always, too, and they just work.
This one is for green beans that cook for two to three hours, with the result that they are a decidedly olive drab and limp as a noodle. They are also outrageously delicious and send the notion of "overcooked" out the window. Here's what you do:
1. Assemble a pound and a half of trimmed green beans, 1/3 cup of chopped tomatoes (ours were from a Parmalat carton), 1/4 cup of good olive oil, 1 medium onion which you have cut into fine mince, 1 teaspoon of sugar, salt, pepper, a pan with a heavy lid, and a 12" square of parchment paper. Put the kettle on to boil.
2. Put all your ingredients into the pot and crumple up the piece of parchment. Draw 1 cup of boiling water from the kettle and pour it into the pot. It will feel like an utterly inadequate amount of liquid. It is not.
3. Bring the pot to a boil, let it boil a minute, and then turn the heat very low. Wet the parchment. Uncrumple it to the degree necessary to fit it over the beans, with all edges tucked neatly inside the pot. Put the lid on.
4. Cook over low heat for two or three hours, until the liquid is mostly absorbed and what's left is thickened.
It's good hot, but better warm, and best at room temperature the next day.
SPECIAL SECRET MESSAGE TO CABBAGE-LOVERS: I also have a spiffy new recipe to help you use up some more of that wonderful and affordable brassica. Stay tuned.
1. Assemble a pound and a half of trimmed green beans, 1/3 cup of chopped tomatoes (ours were from a Parmalat carton), 1/4 cup of good olive oil, 1 medium onion which you have cut into fine mince, 1 teaspoon of sugar, salt, pepper, a pan with a heavy lid, and a 12" square of parchment paper. Put the kettle on to boil.
2. Put all your ingredients into the pot and crumple up the piece of parchment. Draw 1 cup of boiling water from the kettle and pour it into the pot. It will feel like an utterly inadequate amount of liquid. It is not.
3. Bring the pot to a boil, let it boil a minute, and then turn the heat very low. Wet the parchment. Uncrumple it to the degree necessary to fit it over the beans, with all edges tucked neatly inside the pot. Put the lid on.
4. Cook over low heat for two or three hours, until the liquid is mostly absorbed and what's left is thickened.
It's good hot, but better warm, and best at room temperature the next day.
SPECIAL SECRET MESSAGE TO CABBAGE-LOVERS: I also have a spiffy new recipe to help you use up some more of that wonderful and affordable brassica. Stay tuned.
Welcome back! I've missed you. For dinner last night, I had a lovely Indian pan bread made from shredded cabbage, beansprouts and cream of rice cereal flavored with mustard seed, turmeric and asafetida.
Posted by: Karen | 11/22/2004 at 04:02 PM
Do you get your halloumi through that website, or is there a place in DC that makes/sells it? It sounds like something I'd really like to try! Thanks for the info -
DS
Posted by: David | 11/24/2004 at 08:35 PM
Thanks for inspiring tonight's dinner: haloumi with lemon, and roasted peppers, courgettes and olives with basil. Lovely!
Posted by: Meg | 11/25/2004 at 02:39 AM
That does sound lovely! David, I bought the halloumi at the Silver Spring Whole Foods, where they put it near the feta and fresh mozzarella.
Posted by: redfox | 12/09/2004 at 09:26 PM