Sometimes, You Eat Cookies

I have no idea how older people do it. How do they eat dinner at 5 pm? Do they wake up at the crack of dawn? Maybe they go to bed at 8? I have no idea. I've now tried 2 times to eat dinner at 5 pm in order to have enough fuel to get me through a 7 o'clock soccer game while leaving myself enough digestion time so that I do not puke on the field.

I admit it feels indulgent and awesome to feast at such an early hour, but I am hungry again by 9 pm. The hunger sets in without fail and I am not one to ignore the imploring signals sent from my belly to my brain. I usually try to quell the pangs with a spot of cocoa. When this doesn't work, I'm on to dry cereal. It's not pretty. K found me sitting in a fuzzy robe with the stink of soccer on me the other night. I was on the couch with my hand in the cereal box. There were bits of Kashi all over the robe. (That stuff can be sort of sticky when you don't use the requisite cutlery).



I think I have a solution to this embarrassing problem. I found a late night sweet. It's the best kind of sweet because it's not too sweet and it borders on healthy. Well, it's not exactly healthy but it's certainly the type of cookie you can give to someone who has some modest interest in maintaining a healthy lifestyle. They'll eat it. They will probably enjoy it too.



I first made this recipe by accident. I was trying to follow a Macrina recipe it to the letter, but I was distracted and, as usual, this lead to a reading lapse. It was a good lapse, however. It led me to several versions of the recipe until I found one that satisfies. I like this cookie very much. It's perfect with an afternoon coffee, but even more ideal for a late night feeding frenzy when you're hungry but simply cannot indulge in your 4th meal of the day.



Oatmeal, Apricot, & Pecan Cookies

1 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup packed brown sugar
3/4 cup honey
2 large eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 and 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp cinnamon
2 and 1/2 cups rolled oats
1 cup chopped dried apricots
1 cup toasted pecan pieces

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment or baking mats and set aside. Cream the butter, honey, and brown sugar in a stand or electric mixer for 3-5 minutes, until light. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing between each addition, until totally incorporated. Add the vanilla. Scrape the sides of the bowl, and mix briefly.

Sift the flour, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon into a large bowl. Stir in oatmeal, apricots, and pecans. With the mixer on low, add the dry ingredients to the butter and egg, mixing until just combined.

Scoop the cookies onto the baking sheets using a tablespoon of dough per cookie. Flatten the dough slightly with your hand before baking. Bake for about 15 minutes, until just turning golden brown. Cool 5 minutes on sheets, then transfer to racks to cool completely.

Source: Stone Buhr Flour Company

Love is Fleeting

I went the dog pound yesterday. It was very sad. I nearly cried at all the dogs barking and howling with loneliness. If you are at all sensitive, I recommend you steer clear. I was there to meet a particular dog, however. My friend thought I might want to adopt him.

He was such fun. It was love at first sight. We went out to the little park area together where we snuggled and played. I was contemplative. This dog seemed to need me as much as I might need him.

Then, he tried to bite my face.

Love can be fleeting.



On the other hand, there are some things in this world I will always love. Chili is high on the list. I cannot think of a time or a place where I considered turning down a steaming bowl of the good stuff.

As a child, I was known to mix my love of swimming with chili feasts. It was conveniently offered at the snack bar at nearly all of my swim meets. I was powerless to resist its spicy charms and often lapped up a bowl just before diving into the pool.

Yes. It slowed me down a bit. I was not nearly as fast as the other girls. I knew deep down, however, that my love of food would long outlast my desire to prance around in a swimsuit.

I was correct. I would rather eat chili any day of the week. Fortunately, it is not swimsuit season. It is Superbowl season and you are in the market for something to make for your guests. I hope you'll consider making this easy chili recipe. I believe it's the best I've ever had. This chili had a hold on my heart from the first bite, but did not bite me in the face. You will love it.



Chicken and White Bean Chili

1/4 cup olive oil
1 1/3 cups chopped onion
1 large green bell pepper, chopped
6 garlic cloves, chopped
2 1/4 pounds skinless boneless chicken thighs, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
3 1/2 tablespoons chili powder
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 tablespoon dried oregano
2 15- to 16-ounce cans white beans, drained, juices reserved
2 15-ounce cans diced tomatoes in juice
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
(sour cream and white cheddar as topping options)

Heat oil in heavy large pot over medium-high heat. Add onion, bell pepper, and garlic; sauté until vegetables begin to soften, about 5 minutes. Add chicken; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Sauté until chicken is no longer pink outside, about 5 minutes. Mix in chili powder, tomato paste, cumin, and oregano. Add beans, 1 cup reserved bean juices, and canned tomatoes. Simmer until chicken is cooked through and chili is thickened, about 25 minutes. If chili is too thick, add more bean juices by tablespoonfuls to thin. Season chili to taste with salt and pepper. Mix in cilantro and serve with your choice of additional toppings including sour cream and white cheddar cheese.

Adapted from Bon Appetit.

A Little Spot of Peace

Clearly, I love an audience.

It's because I used to be invisible. You think middle children have problems? Try being the youngest of 5 kids. Shouting is the only way to be heard.

Today, I use this blog to indulge and voice all my thoughts. It's proven quite useful in this respect.

On vacation, however, I can do without an audience. I crave silence. I crave peace. I crave a good book, a darling husband, and a beach with no one else around save an iguana or two.

I managed to find all these lovely things on my vacation, but getting to this point of relaxation proved to be a bumpy road. K and I landed in a sort of mega resort where his family has a time-share. It was the sort of place where you bring your kids because it's safe. There are limbo contests, pottery painting, and lots of foam noodles. You get the picture.

Well, I don't have children yet. I don't need a safe and insular resort at which to vacation. Vacation, of course, being the operative word. This was closer to chaos. Let's just say it was not my cup of tea. I love my new family, but we'll have to find a neutral non-mega zone in which to meet next time.

All in all, though, the vacation turned into a true honeymoon once we headed out on our own to a little spot just outside a small fishing village. We loved the tranquility there. It was glorious to fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon with a book in hand and a gentle breeze blowing. We found our little spot of peace.

In our little spot, we had a sweet kitchen in which to play. Local ingredients were plenty. Everything was fresh and wonderfully tasty and the abundance of good things fueled my addiction to tacos.

I never tire of tacos. NEVER. Here is a recipe I made during our vacation several times and once after we returned home as well. It's simple, but the flavors are great and you can adjust the seasoning and ingredients to your heart's content. I think you'll like it. I'd love to hear your ideas on different flavor combinations or ways you improved upon this recipe to make it uniquely yours.

I hope you are all well. I am happy to be back with you!

Shredded Chicken Tacos

2 medium sized chicken breasts

1 medium mango, diced into bite-size chunks

1 tsp chili powder

salt, pepper to taste

1/4 cup lime juice

1 package corn tortillas

1/2 yellow onion (peeled, but not chopped)

3 cups chicken stock

Combine the stock, onion, and 3 cups of water in a large pot. Bring to a boil. Gently place chicken breasts in the liquid and boil about 20 minutes, until cooked through.

Remove the chicken. Allow it to cool before shredding it into smaller bite size pieces with your fingers. Combine the shredded chicken with the chili powder, mango, lime juice, salt, and pepper in a bowl. Cook the tortillas over medium heat with a dash of oil to soften them. When softened, but not browned, remove them from the heat. Fill the tortillas with about 2 tablespoons each of the meat mixture. Top with your favorite salso and cheese. Enjoy.

Serves 4.

Missing You Already

I am going away. It's only a short trip. However, I thought I'd let you know. You are not forgotten. You are loved. Most importantly, you will be missed.



It's sort of a honeymoon. We never really went on a honeymoon after the wedding. That's probably because I decided it was a great idea to quit my job right around the time of our wedding and start a new gig. And, although it's been a blast, it doesn't quite support fancy vacations.

In short, K's parents will be with us.

I love them dearly. I do.

Romance though? We'll see.

Regardless, I thought I'd share a recipe and some sage words with you before I leave. I know it's hard to believe I can conjure up wise words. One needs to appear organized in order for people to listen to her. Like Nancy Reagan or Michelle Obama? They are trim and neat. People probably listen to them.

On the other hand, I'm sort of a mess. You might not care to listen to me. You might be disregarding everything I write down in this blog. However, your presence gives me your ear if only for a moment.

My advice?

Buy 2 measuring cups.

2 cups. I mean it.

You will need 2 cups to make anything with both wet and dry ingredients. Think you don't use both? You do.

Rice.
Pasta.
Oatmeal.
Bread.
Chocolate chip cookies.

As you come to the realization that most recipes include both wet and dry ingredients, you might still think you're some sort of a rebel with your one measuring cup. You're not. You're just messy. Try pouring dry flour into a cup after you've already measured out the water in that same cup. You have a sticky situation. No one wants a sticky situation.

These are my sage words for you. Take them or leave them.

If you take them, test out the 2 cup method on the following recipe. It's been in regular rotation around here for about a month. There are several reasons for this. It's damn tasty. It's super easy. And, best of all, the recipe is formulated for 2 people. That's right. No leftovers. Some of you may like leftovers and experience shock at my bold words. I generally like them too, but I don't like cold or microwaved chicken. No thank you.




Please let me know what you think. Tomorrow, I'll toast to you from a sandy beach in Mexico.

Chicken with Israeli Couscous, Spinach and Feta

1/4 cup unbleached flour
2 boneless , skinless chicken breast (trimmed)
Salt and pepper to tast
3 tblsp olive oil
3/4 cup Israeli couscous
1 shallot, minced
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tblsp. preserved lemon (diced and pulp removed) (optional)
2 tblsp. lemon juice
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes
1 and 3/4 cup low sodium chicken broth
6 oz. baby spinach (about 6 cups)
2 oz feta cheese, crumbled

Place the flour in a shallow wide dish. Pat the chicken dry and season with salt and pepper. Working with one breast at a time, dredge the chicken in the flour, shaking off the excess.

Heat 1 tblsp. of the oil in a 10 inch nonstick skillet over med-high heat until just smoking. Carefully place breasts in the skillet and cook until well browned on the first side, 6-8 minutes. Flip the breasst, reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook until cooked through.

In the meantime, add 1 tblsp. of the oil to another skillet and toast the couscous in it over medium heat until light golden, about 2 minutes. Stir in the shallot, 2 tsp of the garlic, preserved lemon, and 1/8 tsp red pepper flakes. Cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

Stir in the broth and bring to a simmer, then reduce the heat to med-low, and cook, stirring often, until the liquid is absorbed and the couscous is al dente, 8-10 minutes.

Meanwhile, whisk 1 tblsp of the lemon juice, remaining oil, remaining garlic and remaining pepper flakes together in a small bowl.

Stir the spinach, one handful at a time, into the skillet and cook until wilted, about 5 minutes. Off the heat, stir in the feta, remaining lemon juice, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Divide the couscous between two plates and top with the chicken. Drizzle the lemon juice over it and serve.

Adapted from America's Test Kitchen

Members Only

I'm all for exclusivity as long as I'm included in the clique. This is why I was so excited to learn that a "members only" club in Seattle was allowing people to sign up for a 1 day membership in order to partake of an excellent feast. Wouldn't you sign up to be Polish for a day in order to eat homemade pierogies? Do I even have to ask this question?



The real question is how could I live in Seattle for so long and not have any idea that paradise opens its doors twice a week? How did I not know I could drink fine beers and feast on starchy treats if the mood struck?

It took a Maryland transplant to open my eyes to this gem located smack dab in the center of my old stomping grounds on Capital Hill in Seattle?



I'm talking about Dom Polski. Have you been?

You should. This Friday. I mean it. You will not be disappointed. The place is fantastic. It's woodsy and 80s prom decor all mixed together. It's hipsters and old folks hanging out under one roof. Everyone is having a fantastic time.



And, the food. Oh, the food. It was piping hot and so tasty. I loved every bit from the fresh homemade pierogies to the cheesy dessert crepes washed down with dark cold beers.



Heaven.

Bacon is Sexy.

I didn't really mean to do that. I didn't really mean to be away for so long. It's funny how working from home takes over your life in a way you don't really anticipate. You'd think I'd have more time. You'd think I'd be more efficient. Well, at least, that was the plan. The new blog and store have taken over my life. I also found twitter, which introduces a whole new realm of distraction.



Are you on twitter? Why is it so darn awesome?

I am actually cooking up new things with some regularity. I swear it's true. I find, however, that I wait until I am so desperate to eat that taking a photo of the meal or noting it down in a notebook takes time away when I could be stuffing it down my throat. I wonder if other food bloggers have this problem. I also wonder if it has something to do with winter. Is it the cold air? My body is clearly attempting to fashion a winter coat our of blubber.



Must not let this happen. Well, I mustn't let this happen until I return from Mexico where I will have to don an itsy bitsy swimsuit-- the dreaded bikini. And, no, there will be no pictures posted of that mess here on this blog.

In the spirit of making a winter meal that has elements of healthiness, but still keeps it real, I give you this quinoa dish. We loved it. It's got brussel sprouts so it screams healthy! Forget that those screams might get a bit muffled by the savory qualities and deliciousness of the bacon. Some folks will try and convince you bacon is a vegetable. While that may not be true, the addition of bacon will most definitely make the less sexy veggies that much more alluring.

Happy New Year. Let's try and make resolutions that involve food. Eating more of it. Not less.

xoxo

Quinoa Pilaf with Sweet Potatoes, Brussel and Bacon

2 to 4 slices of bacon, diced
1/4 large onion, cut in half and sliced thin
1 cup quinoa
1 1/2 cup water
1 teaspoon sea salt, divided
1 medium sweet potato (about 10 ounces), cut into 1/4-inch cubes
1/2 lb. brussel sprouts , sliced in halves
2 tablespoons olive oil
4 scallions, green parts only, sliced thin, for garnish

Preheat the oven to 475°F.

In a medium saucepan with a tight fitting lid, cook the bacon over medium heat until the bacon is crisp and the fat is rendered, about 10 minutes. Reserve the bacon bits.

the onions into the hot bacon fat and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the onions soften, about 5 minutes. Add the quinoa and toss until coated with the fat and the grains are slightly toasted, about 2 minutes more. Add the water and 1/2 teaspoon of the salt, bring to a boil, stir once, cover, reduce to low and let cook undisturbed until the water is absorbed and the quinoa is tender, about 15 minutes.

While the quinoa is cooking, toss the sweet potatoes and sprouts with the olive oil and salt and spread in a single layer on a baking sheet. Bake until the potatoes and brussel sprouts begin to brown in places and the potatoes are tender, about 20-25 minutes.

When the quinoa is cooked, stir in the potatoes, sprouts, and bacon. Top with fresh scallion slices and reserved bacon bits.

Adapted from Serious Eats.

The Pancake.

Until very recently, I took the bus to and from an office every day. I existed like this for years. Too long. And for much of that time, there was the same group of sad sacks on the bus. One man, in particular, stands out. I do not know him. In fact, we've never spoken. The man is memorable, however, due to a very public and remarkable ritual.

The man waited at the same bus stop for the 5:15 bus to West Seattle every day. He was of average build. He dressed well and always wore a suit and carried a soft leather brief case of sorts. He carried himself with confidence, but didn't speak to anyone at the bus stop. He was in his own world. Just before the bus was scheduled to arrive, he removed a large 16 oz. bag of peanut M&Ms from his brief case. He did this everyday. It was always a new bag. He poured a portion of the contents into one hand. He then folded up the top of the bag and ate the M&Ms one by one in rapid succession.

When the bus arrived, the man mounted the bus. He sat in the back along with me and all the other people who got on at the busy stop downtown. As he sat, he continued to pour and eat. Pour and eat. Pour and eat. The smell was intoxicating. I had to hold myself back. The man continued this routine until my bus stop when I was routinely forced to push myself through the crowd and dismount the bus.

Because I got off the bus before the man, I never figured out if he finished the bag on the bus. Did he continue the process at home in front of the T.V.? Or, did he finish them on the bus so as to hide his ritual from his wife or partner. After all, he must finish the bag in order to begin anew the next day with a fresh sack of treats.

I suppose I will never know the answer. I do, however, understand his pain and his pleasure. He is a full fledged addict. And while he was clearly addicted to the chocolate, I'm willing to bet he was comforted by the ritual.

As a girl who likes her rituals, I feel I understand him just a little bit.



See this pomegranate? I pick it apart the same way every time. Bit by bit.

I like to wake at the same time every day.

I eat the same breakfast.

I perform the same workout routine. I even check my email and etsy store at specific times.

And, most shamefully, if K isn't here, I might eat the same dinner for an entire week. It's a comfort. It's a little cuckoo. It's me.

That said, there is one thing I need on the weekends without fail.



Pancakes.

Pancakes might be one of the world's most perfect foods. And, fortunately for both of us, a dear friend recently introduced me to a recipe that is the finest I've ever tasted. I've been dying to share it with you because it's just the thing to start off your new year morning right. If you don't have a pancake ritual, this might be the clincher. How can you resist a recipe with pomegranate seeds? Seriously. It's that good.


Whole Wheat Pancakes

3/4 cup quick-cooking oats
1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons well-shaken buttermilk, divided
3/4 cup whole-wheat flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/8 teaspoon grated nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 large egg, lightly beaten
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1 tablespoon packed brown sugar
2 tablespoons fresh pomegranate seeds
2 tablespoons chopped walnuts

Soak oats in 3/4 cup buttermilk 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, and salt in a large bowl.

Stir egg, butter, brown sugar, remaining 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons buttermilk, and oat mixture into dry ingredients until just combined.

Heat a griddle over medium heat until hot and lightly brush with oil. Working in batches, pour 1/4 cup batter per pancake onto griddle and cook until bubbles appear on surface and undersides are golden-brown, about 1 minute. Flip with a spatula and cook other side, about 1 minute more. (Lightly oil griddle between batches.)

Adapted from Gourmet

Fudge

My husband wears his heart on his sleeve. If you know him, you know this to be true. He is honest almost to a fault. He is humble and always reveals embarrassing tidbits about himself without any sort of pressure. This why I was so surprised to find discover he was harboring a dark secret.

Chocolate.

He didn't even tell me directly. In fact, I only found out about this little obsession because I walked in on a conversation he was having with a friend. It was something about his daily consumption of the stuff. Who knew?

It's an addiction that is easy to understand. And, he may not think I sympathize, but I do. The truth is, I don't keep chocolate in the house. It's a rare occasion for me to even cook with it. This is not for lack of chocolate lust. It is because I have no self-control. When there is chocolate here, I will eat it. I will eat it until it is gone. You could build me a house of chocolate one day and, by morning, I would be standing in the cold with a chocolate mustache.

I am an addict. K, you are not alone. We are in this thing together.



They say the only way to conquer your demons is to face them directly. It is high time for a serious fudge battle. K's revelation could not come at a better time. Fudge, after all, might be the best (and simultaneously meanest) holiday gift in the world.

Feast on. This recipe does the trick. It's rich. It's indulgent and it's amenable to your whims of nuts or mint or basil or whatever fancy bits you feel like tossing in the mix. Good luck with your powers of will. I fear you may lose the battle. We did.

It was worth it. Happy Holidays!

Chocolate Fudge
4 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups whipping cream
1/4 cup light corn syrup
6 ounces unsweetened chocolate, finely chopped
6 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
1/4 cup (1/8 lb.) butter, cut into chunks
2 teaspoons vanilla

In a 3- to 4-quart heavy-bottomed pan over medium-low heat, stir sugar, cream, and corn syrup, continually scraping the bottom of the pan with a heatproof flexible spatula, until sugar is completely dissolved, about 15 minutes. Stir in unsweetened and bittersweet chocolate until melted. Increase heat to medium and bring mixture to a simmer.

Cook, occasionally stirring mixture and brushing down sides of pan with a wet pastry brush, until mixture reaches 235° on a candy thermometer. Remove from heat and pour into the bowl of a standing mixer or another large bowl. Add butter and vanilla but do not stir; insert candy thermometer and let mixture stand undisturbed until cooled to 110°, 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

Line a 9-inch square pan with foil; lightly butter foil. With the paddle attachment of standing mixer or a sturdy wooden spoon, beat the chocolate mixture vigorously (on high speed if using mixer; reduce speed if motor starts to labor) until mixture thickens and loses its glossy sheen, about 5 minutes with a mixer, about 10 minutes by hand. Scrape into pan, smooth top, and chill until firm to the touch, at least 2 hours, or up to 1 day.

Lift foil to remove fudge from pan; cut fudge into 1-inch squares. Store cut fudge airtight in the refrigerator up to 1 week. To keep longer (up to 1 month), wrap uncut fudge airtight and chill; cut into squares as you want to use it. Serve at room temperature.

Source: Sunset Magazine

Treats

It's the time of year to make cookies. You know what I mean. You make a batch with the intention of giving them away, but they mysteriously disappear before they hit the cookie tin.

You make them again. It happens.



So I recommend you make 2 batches of these. You won't be disappointed. They are a great holiday cookie spiced with all the subtle scented wonderfulness of December including nutmeg, molasses, and cinnamon. Yum.

And, thanks to Indie Fixx for allowing me to feature my lovely mother's holiday recipe. It was an absolute honor.

Baby, It's Cold Outside

Don't let the red hair and freckles fool you. I like the sun. Well, to be clear, I like warmth. That usually comes with the sunshine and I'm usually underneath a large umbrella smothered in major SPF sunscreen.

Does the fact that direct sunlight cannot touch my stark white complexion bother me?

Not one bit.

I love the beach. After all, I did grow up in California.



Speaking of which, we are headed there for the holidays. I couldn't be happier. I hear it's raining, but I am not concerned in the least. It's freezing here! If you live here, you know what I mean. The ice scraper is now a daily tool. One has to jump up and down instead of standing still while outside (making it difficult to use the key in the lock). And, of course, socks are an absolute necessity at bedtime. This is not good for a newlywed. Why didn't we get married earlier in the year?

I'm doing my best to keep the warmth flowing from the kitchen. That means lots of fresh breads and soups. This soup, in particular, is a good one. I post it also because my breeder readers can easily feed tomato soup to those picky little ones. At least, I hear this is the case with smaller humans. They like tomato soup.

You might be concerned about making soup from scratch. They make it so convenient at the grocery store. Those cans are nifty. They are so light. It takes minimal effort to lift a can of soup off the shelf and place it into your basket on a brisk afternoon.

I totally understand. When I'm in a pinch, I do precisely the same thing. This soup, however, will knock the socks off your frozen feet. It is so hearty. It will warm your insides. The best part is a fabulous piece of crusty bread actually immersed in your soup. Every bite combines the two best things in the world-- bread and tomatoes.



Did I convince you? I hope so. Give it a shot. Stay warm. Eat soup. Get your rest. You need your strength for the visit with your family . . .

Tomato and Bread Soup with Basil

2 cans whole tomatoes (28 oz. each)
3 tblsp. extra-virgin olive oil, plus extra for dipping
1 yellow onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 cup packed and finely shredded fresh basil leaves
1/4 tsp sugar
pinch of red pepper flakes
7 cups chicken stock, heated
1/4 cup Italian Arborio rice
4 slices country bread, about 1/2 thick
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

In a large saucepan over medium heat, warm the olive oil. Add the onion and garlic. Sauté until translucent, about 6-7 minutes. Add the tomatoes and half of the basil leaves, the sugar, red pepper, and salt and pepper to taste. Stir in the rice, cover partially, and simmer until the tomatoes start to break down, 8-10 minutes. (A potato masher works really nicely to crush the tomatoes.)

Add 6 cups of stock, recover partially, and simmer until the rice is almost tender, 10-15 minutes longer. Remove one third of the soup from the pan. Fit a food mill with a fine blade over a bowl and ladle the removed soup into the mill and puree. (You can also use a food processor).

Return the puree to the pot, stir well, cover partially, and continue to barely simmer over low heat, stirring occasionally to prevent sticking, until the rice is tender, another 15 minutes or so. Add the remaining chicken stock if the soup seems too thick. Taste and adjust the seasoning.

Meanwhile, preheat an oven to 325 degrees. Brush each bread slice on one side with olive oil and arrange on a baking sheet, oiled side up. Place in the over until the bread is warm and slightly toasted.

To serve, place a warm slice of bread in each of the 4 bowls and ladle the hot soup over the bread. Garnish with the remaining basil.

Adapted from Williams Sonoma

Hey Paison!

Yes. You heard me right. Hey Pasion!

That's exactly what you will hear yelled out when you walk into this little nondescript deli in Burien, Washington.

For those of you who live in Seattle, that was not a typo.

B U R I E N

Burien, the gloomy suburb to the south is dotted with strip malls and gigantic streets that feed into the airport. And, in the past, I would have said there was little to sell me on the place. However, B-town is going through a revitalization of sorts. There's a new library. There's a brewery and a new indie movie theater where you will be able to imbibe alcoholic beverages!

Movies + Beers = Fun

Best of all, there is Hey Paison! If you are anywhere near Burien, I highly recommend you try it. Don't be scared off by the dreary street on which it sits or the strange quiet feeling of the area. It's a real gem. These Italian sandwiches are the REAL deal. Thinly cut prosciutto. Sweet peppers and eggs. Cheese steak. It's a sandwich lovers dream. It is also the latest addition to my list of favorite haunts. I warned K, however. This is not going to be a weekly sort of deal. I might die of a heart attack.



It is a treat. A real treat. I do love Salumi, but this might be better. Dare I say?