Caramelized Brussels Sprouts with Balsamic Syrup

There aren't that many foods I remember my dad having to be cajoled to eat. My sister? Yes. She went through a period when she didn't like tacos. I mean, come on. Tacos? Eventually she relented and qualified it by saying she just didn't like my mom's tacos, as though that were somehow better. Or even remotely reasonable. Oh little sisters.

But my dad agrees only to eat brussels sprouts for Thanksgiving, and then, probably only two at most. The problem couldn't be that they taste like cabbage, coming from the same family of vegetables and all, because he loves his mom's stuffed cabbage rolls. I think the problem might be in the preparation. Or more specifically, in the boiling. There are few foods that respond to boiling, and it turns out, the brussels sprout is not one of them. They become mushy on the inside, waterlogged, and just kind of not-good. (Although I'll eat them any time in any incarnation, boiled or whatever. But this way is better).

What should you do? You could roast them, but for big holidays when the oven is being monopolized by more important fare (turkeys, pies, even sweet potatoes are, let's face it, more important), it would be nice to keep them on the stove top. Which is actually a wonderful way to prepare them, and takes only minutes. Two to three minutes on each side, in fact, because as experience teaches, brussels sprouts do not benefit from mushiness.

Unlike many of our American feasting foods, the brussels sprout doesn't actually come from the new world, but from Northern Europe. They were popular in, you guessed it, Belgium. All of this according to Aliza Green in her book Starting with Ingredients, which must have been a pretty behemoth undertaking. In the book, Green dedicates all of the 100 chapters to a different food or food group, providing information on history, use, buying and storing. Oh, and a handful or recipes for each. This one comes out of the cabbage chapter, while the balsamic syrup is written to be drizzled over mushrooms. And while we're on the subject, that balsamic syrup is some good stuff. As soon as I tasted it, still scalding on the wooden spoon, my mind started racing with all of the things I wanted to dribble it over. If you don't have access to an aged, syrupy and seriously expensive balsamic vinegar, this is your next best bet.

Caramelized Brussels Sprouts with Balsamic Syrup
Adopted from Aliza Green's Starting with Ingredients

Note: I've cut the recipe in half because I was cooking for only two of us. Feel free to double or triple for larger crowds.

About 1/2 pound brussels sprouts
Olive oil for the pan
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

For the syrup:

1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon honey

In a small saucepan, combine all of the ingredients for the syrup. Heat over medium heat, whisking to dissolve the sugar and honey into the vinegar. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and simmer for about ten minutes.

Watch it closely, because this stuff will burn fast if it's over too high a heat. When the sauce is sufficiently reduced, a wooden spoon run along the bottom of the pan should leave a bit of the trail as it parts the vinegar. Remove from the heat and set aside. The syrup will continue to thicken as it cools.

For the sprouts:

Trim the woody bottoms off the sprouts. Stand them on their newly flattened bottoms and cut in half top to bottom. Preheat some oil in a medium-sized saute pan over medium heat. Place the brussels sprouts halves cut side down and saute for about 3-4 minutes, until browned. Turn once, and brown on the other side for about 2 minutes. Drizzle with the balsamic syrup and serve.

Pumpkin Yeast Bread and Dinner Rolls

First, I hope if you live in or are from the US, you had a very happy Thanksgiving yesterday. I hope your day was full of food, and that you're still recovering. I hope you didn't mind that I didn't bring you yet another turkey or cranberry sauce recipe in the lead-up. But my T-gives (as my sister calls the holiday) was a little different than normal. For one thing, there was only two of us to feed, R and myself. R had to work, and didn't even get home until 9:00 in the evening. But I was determined that we'd feast nonetheless.

I'll post the entire meal bit by bit over the next few days, but I thought I'd start with this pumpkin yeast bread in case you have leftover, say, turkey in need of some good sandwich bread. Or if you happen to have some leftover pureed pumpkin after all of that pie-making.

I began searching out a yeasted pumpkin bread after buying a loaf from Gourmet Garage the other week and decimating it almost single-handedly in under three days. This recipe, from King Arthur Flour, was one of the only ones I found. It received rave reviews, but if I'm going to be honest, I thought the pumpkin really receded in this bread, and it was nowhere near as spiced as I would have like. Better for sandwiches than for snacking, I think. Or for receiving a good drizzle of honey. Nothing like homemade bread and honey. If I were to make it again (and I just might, because I still really love the idea), I'd probably go so far as to double the spices. Maybe I'd add some garam marsala to the mix, with its warming fragrance, and maybe some cloves. You know, spice it almost like an exotic gingerbread.

While I wasn't exactly overwhelmed, R loved the little pumpkin dinner rolls I served with our meal. The recipe is large enough that you can divide the dough in half and make two loaves, or one loaf and a dozen rolls. I'll admit that this bread does play second-fiddle quite nicely, sopping up leftover cranberry sauce, perhaps. Which is why I'm suggesting it for the gourmet leftover sandwiches I'm sure you're going to be creating.

If you decide on the rolls, I've written before about a good technique for forming them. If you're going with loaves, King Arthur suggests a 10x15 inch pan, which I don't have. So I decided to make my loaf free-form, and that was just as good. Don't worry about equipment for this one.

Pumpkin Yeast Bread
Adopted from King Arthur Flour

1/2 cup warm water
2 packages (the equivalent of 2 tablespoons) active dry yeast
2/3 cup warm milk
2 large eggs, beaten
1 1/2 cups pureed pumpkin (from a can is fine)
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
6 1/2 cups (about) all-purpose flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom

Stir the yeast into the warm water in the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, and set aside to allow the yeast to soften while you measure out the rest of the ingredients. Add 4 cups of the flour, as well as the rest of the ingredients, and mix on medium speed for 2 minutes.

Switch to the bread hook at this point, unless you plan to kneed by hand. Gradually add the remaining flour, a bit at a time, and mix into the dough until it is stiff enough to kneed. You can turn it out onto a floured surface to kneed by hand, or you can continue with the dough hook. Kneed until you have a smooth, elastic ball of dough.

Turn the dough out into a large, oiled bowl and turn the dough over so that it gets coated in the oil on all sides. Cover with a clean dish towel and put in a warm place to rise until doubled in size, about 1 hour.

After the dough has risen, turn it back out onto a floured surface and punch it down. Divide the dough in half and form into either two loaves, or into one loaf and about a dozen rolls. Place the loaves and rolls on greased baking sheets, cover, and allow to rise until just about doubled again, about 45 more minutes. Preheat the oven to 375 F.

When the dough is mostly risen, bake it for about 30 minutes for loaves and 20 minutes for rolls. Check early just in case, since everyone's oven is different. When done, they will be brown on the bottom and sound hollow when tapped.

Remove the bread from the oven and cool on a wire rack to room temperature before slicing in.

I've submitted this post to Wild Yeast's Yeastspotting!

Financiers

It is a particular characteristic of the best classic foods that they turn a few simple ingredients into something wonderful. If you were looking for a recipe for something to give away, something simple but sophisticated, something that can be eaten with the fingers without any mess, you could do a lot worse than the financier. Although they're best eaten the day they're made, the batter does have to rest, so you can whip it up the night before and let it rest overnight, then bake them just before distribution. Look at the ingredients. Butter, sugar, almonds, egg whites and flour. That's it. From this minimal list, you'd have no idea just how refined the taste would be. But when you brown the butter until it smells like caramel-covered nuts and grind the almonds to the consistency of flour, you'll see why the financier is one of Paris's most-loved little cakes. And, I mean, I love Paris.

Not as famous as its cousin the madeleine, the financier is more understated, not as attention-seeking as that iconic shell. Their classic shape is reminiscent of the golden bars of their namesake 19th century stock brokers. According to Dorie Greenspan, who adopted this recipe from the Left Bank's Boulangerie-Pâtisserie Poujauran, they were invented during the late 1800s, and although they don't appear in French cookbooks as often as they probably should, they are a Parisian standard.

And now a word about browning butter. You're going to set your butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. You don't necessarily need to stir the whole time (although I'm neurotic, so I do) but you do need to watch it closely the whole time. If stirring helps hold your attention, do it. First the butter will melt, then it will start to bubble and then foam as the solids separate from the liquid (this is how you make clarified butter, but we're not going to separate the solids from the liquids. Instead, we'll continue cooking until the solids brown.) Eventually the foaming will subside and the butter will be bright golden. Keep it going until the solids start to brown. Watch closely at this point, because they can burn very quickly. Once the solids have reach a beautiful amber color, remove from the heat at once. It will continue to darken a little off the heat, and will smell like caramel. Once you smell it, you'll understand the magic of the financier.

Financiers
Adopted from Dorie Greenspan's Paris Sweets: Great Desserts from the City's Best Pastry Shops

1 1/2 sticks butter (6 ounces)
200 grams sugar
100 grams ground blanched almonds
6 large egg whites
90 grams all-purpose flour.

In a small saucepan place the butter and bring it to a boil over medium heat. Stir it occasionally and brown until it smells like caramel (see above). When browned, but not burned, remove form the heat and set aside.

In another large saucepan, stir the sugar and almonds together, then stir in the egg whites. Put the pan over medium heat and cook and stir until the mixture is heated through, about 2 minutes. Off the heat, stir the flour into the mixture, then stir in the browned butter gradually. It will be quite a wet batter at first, but the butter should get pretty well absorbed.

Transfer the mixture to a bowl, and cover with cling wrap. Push the cling wrap down on top of the batter so that it is protected from the air and various smells of the refrigerator. Chill the mixture for at least 1 hour, or up to three days if you're not ready to bake.

When you want to bake the financiers, preheat the oven to 400F with a wrack centered. Grease a financier pan, which is in the shape of bars, or you can use a mini muffin pan, if that's easier. I made mine in a pretty standard financier pan, so if you do go the mini muffin route, you'll have to watch them and adjust the cook time.

Fill the molds almost all the way, then bake for 12-13 minutes until the financiers are golden and springy when you poke at them. When I made them, the bars on the periphery cooked up faster than those in the middle, which had to be returned to the oven for a couple of minutes. But the cakes should not be mushy in the middle. When finished, take them out of the oven and remove them from the molds. Put them on cooling wracks and allow them to cool.

Roasted Onions Stuffed with Butternut Squash

Okay, here's the deal. If you're looking for a unique and unexpected side dish for Thanksgiving, I found it for you. If you need something that can be prepared ahead of time and then just heated in the oven for 20 minutes before serving, you're in the right place. And if you want something really, very delicious, I've got that for you too. With one caveat.

But first, the dish. A succulent filling of butternut squash, its flavor deepened by two unexpected but quite traditional Italian ingredients, mounded into the shell of a roasted, meltingly sweet onion. And now the caveat. It's possible, that depending on where you live, it might be kind of hard to find the secret ingredients. The second one is perhaps more difficult than the first. So first. You're going to need a handful of traditional Italian cookies called Amaretti. They're those crispy little mounds that taste of pure almond, the Italian macaroon. You can find them in a good market, I'm sure Whole Foods would have them, or in a specialty store. You can also order them from Amazon. For your reference, you might keep an eye out for this package while you're shopping around. I bought mine at Eataly. They were exorbitantly priced but so delicious. I've seen them paired with butternut squash in many incarnations: soup, risotto, as a ravioli stuffing.

Now for the second secret ingredient. This one might be a bit trickier, but again, you should be able to find it in a specialty store, maybe even Whole Foods, although I haven't checked there. Again, I bought mine at Eatlay, so if you're in New York and care to brave the crowds, you can get it there. Mostarda di Cremona. An Italian condiment made by preserving chunks of fruit in a syrupy, mustardy, sweet concentrate. That's actually the Mostarda part. Different regions of Italy use different fruits, and the city of Cremona specializes in a particularly well-known incarnation. At Eataly, however, I didn't find the Mostarda from this particular town, so went with a Mostarda di Mele Campanine, or an Orchard Apple Mostrada produced by a company called Le Tamerici. There were other versions, like a mostrada made with prunes. But apple and butternut squash are such good friends. So. If you're interested, you can also make mostrada, but that's a bit too much work just for this recipe.

So anyway, let's say you get your hands on these two secret ingredients. The rest is ridiculously easy. You can make the filling early, you can boil the onions early, you can stuff them and cover them, and then roast them off just before serving. The recipe is from Biba Caggiano's Trattoria Cooking. Caggiano did her how-did-she-get-that-lucky research for the book all over Italy, eating at the best trattorias (those less-formal, home-cooking based restaurants) and asking for the recipe. Trust me, try this recipe and you'll be glad she did.

Roasted Onions Stuffed with Butternut Squash
Adopted from Biba Caggiano's Trattoria Cooking

1 very small butternut squash, about 1 pound.
3 ounces imported Mostarda (see above). Strain the fruits of the syrup and finely chop them
10 Amaretti cookies, finely crushed
1/2 cup grated fresh parmigiano
Salt to taste
1/3 cup plain bread crumbs
5 medium-sized onions, peeled

Oven preheated to 375F. When I'm faced with roasted a squash, I always start it off in the oven to soften it a little before I cut it in half. Otherwise, it's too darn hard. So I roasted the squash for an hour, removed it from the oven, cut it in half, and continued roasting for another 30 minutes. If you want to just go straight for the kill, you can cut it in half to begin with and then roast for 1:00-1:30 hrs. Cool the squash and spoon out the pulp (not the seeds!). Put them in a bowl and mash the pulp with a spoon or potato masher. Don't blend or process or too much liquid will be released.

Add the mostarda, amaretti and cheese. Season with salt and mix everything until well combined. You can save the filling at this point if you want.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add the onions. Boil for about 20-25 minutes until the onions are softening, but still relatively firm. Drain the onions and allow them to cool. When cool, trim off either end so that they can stand up, and cut in half. Remove the inner few rings with a spoon. Place the onion halves into a buttered baking dish and season with a little salt. Fill with the squash mixture, then bake for 20-30 minutes (start checking early, depending on how soft they were when you took them out of the oven). They should be golden and a fork should go through easily. Serve.

Spiced Persimmon Shake

I don't care what all the shop windows are saying, or the music playing inside those shops, it's still autumn in New York and not Christmas. Autumn in New York. I love this city.

Makes me want to eat pumpkin things, and put cinnamon on everything, and wear orange. And I always make it a point to take advantage of persimmon season while it's here. And, in case you haven't heard, it's here. Persimmons are funny little things, delicious and custardy when ripe (and remember, they must be ripe!) Turns out, they make a pretty good little shake as well. A warm orange color, so perfect for this time of year, spiked with autumnal spices like garam masala (think cardamom, pepper, cinnamon and coriander), ginger, and a little spike of real maple syrup. You just cannot go wrong with that combination. For this one, I used skim milk, but now I'm wondering if that made it a bit too frothy. I think 2% would work better, but it's up to you of course. It's your shake. The following recipe makes one of them.

Spiced Persimmon Shake

A Cooking Books Original

1 very, totally and completely ripe hachiya persimmon (the one that's in the shape of a big strawberry)
1/8 teaspoon garam masala
1/8 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon maple syrup
Milk to just cover
Ice if you want

Cut the persimmon in half and scrape the pulp out of the skin and into the bowl of a blender. Add the rest of the ingredients and blend until smooth. Enjoy autumn!

Persimmon Garam Masala Upside Down Cake

The first time I had a persimmon was in college, when my roommate somehow got herself subscribed to a fruit of the month club. It was probably a Christmas gift or something, but every month for the year a box of fruit would arrive that she always needed help eating. Persimmons were an especially unexpected, and unknown, treat.

The second time I had a persimmon was in Istanbul, during a spring break trip when I was studying abroad in Italy (rough, I know). We passed a huge, eye-catching mound of the blushing fruits in a stall near the street and my beautiful Turkish love-crush said that persimmons were good luck. It must be true, because eating persimmons on a Turkish street corner is pretty lucky, after all.

They still seem like an exotic fruit, with an almost custardy texture once allowed to fully ripen. The not-so-secret to this recipe is the complexity given the gingerbread like cake by the garam masala. Essential to North Indian cuisine, garam masala is a warming spice blend that, were I a true Indian cook, would be unique to my kitchen. It would be a blend of, say, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and peppercorns. I think you can see why it has such an affinity with the classic Western spice cake.

Garam masala for the spice cake, persimmons for the fruit, and that very American technique of flipping everything over at the end. Here's what you're going to do. You're going to make a kind of caramel sauce, which you will pour into your cake pan to cushion the roasting persimmon sections. Then goes on the spiced cake batter. This is such a unique, and beautiful actually, twist on some pretty traditional holiday flavors. It could easily hold it's own next to the pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving for example. And the persimmons will bring you good luck because eating Persimmon and Garam Masala Upside Down Cake is nothing if not good luck.

A quick note on ingredients. I've mentioned before how persimmons can be kind of false friends. There are two types most common in the US, the one shaped like a big strawberry, which is called a hachiya persimmon and must be completely ripe before you even think about eating it. It should be mushy, with the consistency of custard before you even look sideways at it. Otherwise its extreme astringency will suck all of the moisture out of your mouth. The second type looks like an orange tomato and is called a fuyu. This type can be eaten while still a bit crunchy.

Persimmon Garam Masala Upside Down Cake
Adopted from Food & Drink (by the way, everything I've ever made from this site has been excellent. I'm 3 for 3 so far.)

For the Fruit and Sauce:

1/4 cup unsalted butter
2/3 cups light brown sugar, packed
2 tablespoons real maple syrup
2 ripe persimmons (either kind, just heed my warning about ripeness)

For the Cake:

2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon garam masala
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground ginger
3/4 teaspoon salt
3/4 cup molasses
1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
2 large eggs at room temperature
3/4 cup 2% milk, also at room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Oven preheated to 350F, grease a 10" cake pan and set aside.

Start with the sauce. In a saucepan set over medium heat, melt the butter, brown sugar and maple syrup together. Heat until the mixture begins to bubble then pour it into your cake pan, spreading it evenly. You'll need to spread fast, because it starts to set up pretty quickly, so be ready.

Remove the tops of the persimmons, the part with the leaves, and cut each of them into eight wedges. Arrange the fruit over the brown sugar mixture in the bottom of your cake pan. Leave some space in between each section of fruit.

Now for the cake. Sift together the flour, baking soda, all of the spices, and the salt. Set aside. Beat the molasses, the brown sugar and the butter in a mixer until smooth. Whisk the eggs together with the milk and vanilla. Then add half the milk mixture to the molasses mixture, followed by half of the flour. Add the rest of the milk, and then the rest of the flour. Be sure to beat the molasses mixture well after each addition. Pour the cake batter over the fruit and smooth it out so that it's evenly spread.

Bake for 40-45 minutes (remember everyone's oven is different, so check early) until it passes the toothpick test. Cool the cake for 30 minutes in the pan before turning it out. To do that, place a cooking wrack or large plate on the bottom of the cake pan and, without hesitation or second-guessing, flip it over.

Spaghetti Squash and Chanterelle Mushrooms

Here in New York, I have a sinking feeling that we're getting to the tail end of farmers market season. I mean, yes, the one in Union Square basically stays open through the winter, but I don't know how much longer the market will feel abundant.

But for now it does. With stalls and stalls of squash spilling over baskets. All different kinds mingling in heaps, with colors, textures and shapes that make it seem impossible that they could be related.

And on the way to the market, we founds several other objects mingling in heaps or rows or on walls. All with different colors, and textures, and shapes. How very, very New York.

It was actually my sister who can be thanked for this amazingly delicious recipe, now that we're getting to it. I don't know why, but for some reason, I have had incredible luck in the kitchen lately. What with these Millet and Sweet Potato Cakes which are my favorite veggie patties ever, and a cake that's going to be making an appearance very soon. You can add this to the list of what makes me happy to be cooking in New York.

Back to my sister. She gave me Deborah Madison's Local Flavors for my birthday the other year, and I really wanted to make a day of it with her. Going to the market, getting the ingredients, making it. But we ran out of time during her visit, so R and I got all the squash to ourselves after she left. Sorry Lil' C. It was frickin' delicious.

R literally thought he was eating pasta with some kind of meat. He was eating neither. If you've never had spaghetti squash there is no time like the present. So I think we've agreed that you're going to make this as soon as possible. Do it when you have some guests to impress, so you can take your bow to real applause. Don't be afraid to demand the applause, either.

Not sure what spaghetti squash looks like? In all those pictures of squash I didn't put one up of the squash in question. It's the plain-looking oval one in the image above. Oh, and I need to have a word about mushrooms for a moment. There are those who will tell you to wipe them with a towel for fear of getting them wet and allowing them to soak up water like a sponge. I don't buy it, and neither do the good people at Cook Think, and they further cite Jacques Pepin, Alton Brown and Harold McGee. So whatever, your choice. I washed mine.

Spaghetti Squash Gratin with Chanterelles
Adopted from Deborah Madison's Local Flavors

1 large spaghetti squash, about 3 pounds
1 pound chanterelles (I know these are expensive, but they're worth it. Make it for a special occasion)
4 tablespoons or so unsalted butter
Salt and pepper to taste
2 garlic cloves, passed through a press
1 cup half-and-half
Freshly grated Parmesan cheese for sprinkling over the top

Preheat the oven to 375F. Butter a shallow baking dish, like a pyrex. Using a fork, poke a bunch of holes in the skin of the squash and then bake in the dish until it's browned and pretty soft. About 1.5 hours.

In the meantime, clean the chanterelles. I washed mine (see above). Slice them into small pieces as you melt half of the butter in a large saute pan. Add the mushrooms and cook over medium heat until tender, about 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper, then add the garlic and half-and-half. Adjust the heat if you need to in order to simmer the liquid gently for 10 minutes. Remove from the heat and set aside.

When the squash is done, remove from the oven and cut in half. Scoop out the seeds and discard, then scoop the strands of spaghetti squash into a serving bowl. Toss the strands with the rest of the butter and season with salt and pepper. Top with the mushroom mixture, then give it a good shaving of Parmesan cheese over the top. Serve.

Millet and Sweet Potato Cakes

It seems like every Sunday evening R and I say to one another, okay. Starting Monday, we're only going to eat healthy. Actually, I don't really believe in only eating healthy, but it's good to start each week with the best intentions I suppose. Another thing is that I'm not really all that into diet books. I don't like the lists of 'good' and 'bad' foods (since when is food a moral question, anyway?) and I don't like all the rules. Oh, and flavor. I don't like the lack of flavor.

But I do like to cook with real food. I love real food. Because real food is colorful and interesting and flavorful, and healthy almost as an afterthought. After a couple of serious successes with Prevention Magazine's recipes (this watermelon tomato salad comes to mind as something I will most likely be craving through the winter), I decided to give one of their cookbooks a try, especially since they're, like, 1 penny on Amazon. The books form a series called 'Eat Up Slim Down' but even if slimming down isn't really on the radar for you, these Sweet Potato and Millet Cakes sure as heck should be. Here's why.

Millet is a delicious whole grain, not overly assertive (less so than, say, quinoa) and it soaks up the stock and holds everything together. Makes the cakes filling as well. Here's another reason. Every normal person I know loves sweet potatoes. I mean, they're the candy of the vegetable world. But not R. R claims to hate them. Until he tried these, which he devoured. Seriously, and I wouldn't lie to you, these patties are so good that they easily come out as my favorite vegetarian patty ever. You should probably try them as soon as you find Millet (try Whole Foods). This recipe makes enough to feed two very, very hungry people who were too lazy to cook much else. Otherwise they can be stretch to feed 4 I would think, if you serve a couple of sides.

Millet and Sweet Potato Cakes
Adopted from Eat Up Slim Down Annual Recipes 2009

1 cup vegetable broth
1/3 cup millet
1 small sweet potato, peeled and shredded
1/4 cup mined onion (that's about 1/4 a medium-sized onion)
2 eggs, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon dried thyme (you can always use fresh if you have it)
1/8 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Salt and pepper to taste

Bring the millet and the broth to a boil in a small saucepan over medium heat. When it boils, reduce the heat to low, cover the pot and simmer the grain for about 20 minutes. You might need to check the level of the liquid to be sure it doesn't dry up and burn. You know, like rice. The millet will be tender when done.

In a medium sized bowl, stir together the sweet potato, onion, eggs, flour, thyme, pepper flakes and salt and pepper. When the millet is done, add it to the potato mixture and toss until everything is well-blended.

Heat a large saute pan and add either oil or cooking spray. Heat over medium-high and drop spoonfuls of the potato mixture into the pan. Flatten a bit into a patty shape and cook for about 6-7 minutes total, with a flip of the patty in the middle.

UPDATE: There was a typo in this recipe: 1.3 cup millet should have been 1/3 cup millet. I've changed it.

Roasted Red Pepper and Caramelized Onion Thin-Crust Pizza

I've been making this pizza for everyone who comes over. Dropping by for an extended stay? How about some thin-crust pizza? Coming for a little visit? Thin-crust pizza. The idea of using a nice Indian flat bread for the crust is such a good one, that you could really just take the idea and run with it. Sausage, cheese, tomato sauce. You know, the classic stuff. But since you're saving all of that time on the crust, you could also put it into this ridiculous sauce.

First, you're going to roast your own peppers. You can buy them pre-roasted, of course, but just sticking them under the broiler and turning every 4 minutes or so (depending on your broiler) is a really easy method of roasting. Once the skin is blistered on all sides, put the peppers in a bowl and cover with a towel to give them a chance to steam. This will allow them to cool a bit and will make peeling off the skin easier. Just set them aside in the bowl while you prepare the rest of the pizza.

Oh, and about those peppers? They're not going in strips on top. No, no, they're being blended with half of the onions you're about to caramelize, some garlic, some herbs, some vinegar and maybe even some chili. That's your ridiculous sauce. Supposedly this will serve four. More like two if you're not eating them with anything else. And as long as you don't peel off the vegetables (I mean seriously), it's a pretty good complete little meal all by itself.

Roasted Red Pepper and Caramelized Onion Thin-Crust Pizza with Baby Spinach and Cremini Mushrooms
Adopted from Renée Loux's The Balanced Plate

Olive oil for the pan and for brushing on the bread
1 large red onion, sliced
1/4 cup vegetable stock
1 teaspoon balsamic vinegar
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon maple syrup
2 large bell peppers, roasted as described above
2 tablespoons pistachios
2 cloves garlic, passed through a press
1 cup basil leaves
2-3 teaspoons dried oregano
2 teaspoons fresh thyme
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
1/4 teaspoon ground chipotle pepper, if you want
Salt and pepper to taste
2 cups or so (more or less) sliced cremini mushrooms
2 cups baby spinach
Package of flat-bread. I used some Indian flat bread that was excellent
More basil for garnish.

For the sauce:

Heat some oil in a skillet over medium and cook the onion until it starts to soften, about 5 minutes. Add the stock, the soy sauce, and the maple syrup. Cook for another 3-5 minutes until the liquid is mostly evaporated. Remove from the heat and set aside to cool a bit while you peel the peppers.

Put half the onions, all the roasted peppers, the nuts, 1 clove of garlic, half the basil, oregano, thyme, vinegar and chili into a blender. Season with a pinch of salt and blend until the mixture is smooth. Season to taste with more salt and pepper.

In a clean skillet, warm a bit more olive oil over medium, then cook the mushrooms along with a pinch of salt. Stir occasionally until the mushrooms soften, about 3-4 minutes. Add the rest of the garlic (one clove) and cook until fragrant but not browned (about 1 more minute).

Add the spinach and cook just until wilted, about half a minute. Remove the spinach and mushroom mixture form the heat and fold in the rest of the basil.

For the Pizza:

Preheat the oven to 500F (ripping hot!)
Brush one side of your flatbreads with some oil so they'll really crisp up. Place them oil-side down on a baking sheet and spread the roasted pepper mixture on top. Top with the rest of the caramelized onions, the mushrooms and the spinach.

Bake for about 7-10 minutes, depending on the thickness of your flatbread. Remove from the oven and garnish with more fresh basil.