panzanella and warm marinated olives

We've been getting a lot of different tomatoes lately, including grape tomatoes, yellow pear tomatoes, and beautiful heirloom tomatoes. It truly is one of the best things about summer. If I were really smart about this, I would have turned all these wonderful tomatoes into a marinara sauce to freeze and save for the winter ahead, but lately I just can't help myself. I can't stop eating them! Whether sliced and doused with olive oil and basil...



Or in a sandwich, with a schmear of mayonnaise, coarse sea salt, and lots of cracked black pepper...



Or in panzanella, which is an Italian bread and tomato salad. All this salad needs day-old crusty bread, and gorgeous tomatoes and fresh basil, and just a simple vinaigrette dressing. I made mine a little differently based on what I had in the kitchen; you can always play around with the ingredients. Maybe swap feta for the fresh mozzarella (it may not be traditional, but it's good!). Maybe add some shallots. Do what you like!

Panzanella

For the bread:

• a little shy of half a loaf of day-old, crusty artisan bread
• olive oil
• salt and pepper

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Slice the bread into cubes (about half an inch or so). I would estimate that I had about 4 cups of cubed bread (maybe!). Spread onto a baking sheet pan, then drizzle olive oil on top - not a lot, just a little bit to help the bread brown nicely. Season with salt and pepper. Toss everything together with your hands to distribute the olive oil, then bake for about 10-12 minutes until they are crunchy and golden brown around the edges.

This may seem like an unnecessary step; you might be thinking, why toast it and let it get crunchy only to soak it in dressing later? But I think letting it toast in the oven lets it dry out even further so that it can soak up all that flavorful dressing more.

For the rest of the salad:

• lots of tomatoes - I used one very large heirloom tomato, one medium red tomato, and about 10 sun-dried tomatoes, rehydrated in hot water for 10 minutes, then chopped (sun-dried tomatoes aren't necessary here, but I like them)
• 1 large garlic clove
• 1 small onion (shallots would have been better, but I didn't have any), chopped small; about 1/4 cup
• about 1/2 cup of fresh mozzarella, in small cubes
• about 2 tablespoons red wine vinegar
• about 1/4 cup of your best extra virgin olive oil
• salt and pepper
• lots of fresh basil

While the bread is in the oven, make the dressing. In a large bowl, mix the red wine vinegar, olive oil, salt and pepper (you can season generously as this makes a large salad!) Mince the garlic clove with a little salt - whenever I use garlic for a raw preparation, I like to do it this way because the salt helps break down the garlic a little bit. Chop the onion (or shallot). I didn't want raw onions in here as they might overpower the tomatoes, so I decided to roast the onion slightly in the oven as well (the oven was already hot anyway!) to sweeten them a bit and make them less pungent - probably not even 10 minutes. If I had shallots, I probably wouldn't have roasted them as they are more mellow than regular onions. Add the roasted onions (or shallots) to the dressing.

Chop the tomatoes and add them (including any tomato juice that collects on your cutting board) to the bowl. Add the crunchy bread as well, and toss everything together so that the bread soaks up the dressing. Toss in the fresh mozzarella, and simply tear the fresh basil leaves over the bowl.

Check for seasoning, and adjust as necessary. Allow the salad to sit for about 10 minutes (it gets better!), if you can wait that long :)

The salad was a study of contrasting textures and flavors: croutons softened by a slightly tangy, fruity olive oil dressing, plump, juicy tomatoes at the peak of their sweetness, chewy sun-dried tomatoes, and mild, creamy mozzarella, and fresh, sweet basil. Yum. As I was eating it, I was already thinking about how much I would enjoy the leftovers for lunch the next day. I know. I think ahead like that. 

This was an easy weeknight dinner, along with some warm marinated olives - simply a mix of a variety of olives from Whole Foods' antipasto bar, which I packed into a glass jar (with the olive oil it comes in), and set into a small pot of simmering water for about 20-30 minutes. This was inspired by a visit to Flour (a nearby Italian restaurant) last weekend. Warm marinated olives are a part of their appetizer list; and interestingly, we never ordered them before, thinking, oh, it's just olives - I can have them at home anytime, why would I order it at a restaurant? But we decided to get them on our last visit and it was a revelation. We were in olive heaven (a little dramatic, I know).  I've always loved olives. Little did I know that enjoying them warm takes them to a whole other level. (I'm not the last one to learn about this, am I?) Letting them sit in a hot water bath allows the flavors to bloom, and it's just worlds better than the usual cold olives in typical antipasto platters. I guess it's a similar concept as letting cheeses sit at room temperature for a little bit - not serving it straight out of the fridge - before enjoying it on a cheese platter. Believe me. Give it a try. You'll never go back to cold olives.

Filipino mung bean stew (vegetarian version)

I have to (embarrassingly) admit that, for as much as I love to cook, I don't cook a whole lot of Filipino food. Many of the "classic" Filipino dishes are meat-based, like the popular adobo which is a stew of pork or chicken, slow-cooked in vinegar, soy sauce, lots of garlic, and black peppercorns. They say that there are as many versions of adobo as there are Filipino households, and I don't doubt that. But this is not a post on adobo; rather it's about the humble mung bean stew.

I know many of us might not want to say goodbye to summer and think of stews just yet. But I'm starting to feel a little chill in the air now during my after-dinner walks with A. Fall is in the air, folks. At least in the Cleveland air, that is. :)

Given my love for lentils, mung bean stew is frequently part of our rotation of legume dishes. It's cheap, protein- and fiber-packed, and so good for you.

I make a very different version from what you might encounter in non-vegetarian Filipino households. In the traditional version(s), you'll see bits of pork and maybe tiny shrimp, perhaps the flavor of shrimp paste and/or fish sauce. Some add a chile pepper for a little spice; some add a little greens. I think the traditional version also calls for fish sauce as a seasoning; although I have started to eat fish 1-2 times a week now, A. doesn't, so I use a low-sodium tamari instead (or any reduced-sodium soy sauce). Balsamic vinegar is not a traditional ingredient, but I find that it works in here. Lemon juice would work too, but I like the sweet-tart flavor of balsamic vinegar.

It does take a bit of advanced planning to soak the mung beans 24-30 hours, or at least four hours; although you can cook mung beans without soaking, soaking makes it so much faster to cook. I actually soak mine at least overnight to about 30 hours, at which point you'll start seeing the white insides of the mung beans begin to push out of the green covering. Soaking and sprouting makes them more digestible as well. For those of you who are not used to consuming large amounts of legumes or lentils, this is really helpful in reducing your chances of... you-know-what. You're welcome.

Of course, before doing that just make sure you sort the beans, picking out any pebbles or unwanted items - easiest to spread it out on a light colored dish or baking sheet pan. Then rinse a few times before soaking, and if you are doing a long soak, change the water a couple of times. After soaking the mung beans will have plumped up. Even if you just start out with a cup of dried mung beans, it will triple in volume at least after a long soak, so in the end this recipe can probably serve 4.

Filipino-Style Mung Bean Stew (vegetarian)

• olive oil - a healthy glug (I'm offically making that a technical culinary term now), enough to cover the bottom of the pot
• half a large onion, chopped
• half a head of garlic, chopped (I know... I'm pretty unapologetic about my use of garlic. Except before yoga class.)
• 1 medium tomato, chopped
• 1 cup mung beans, soaked 24-30 hours (or at least four hours), then drained and rinsed
• water or vegetable broth
• tamari or soy sauce - I think I used 3 or 4 tablespoons
• balsamic vinegar - about a tablespoon
• salt and pepper

In a heavy-bottomed pot, heat olive oil over medium heat. Saute the onion, garlic, and tomatoes (the trio that makes up the traditional sofrito, or the basis of many Filipino dishes) with a little salt and pepper. Once the onions are soft and the tomatoes have broken down, add the mung beans, and pour in enough water or vegetable broth to cover the mung beans by about an inch.

Bring it to a boil, then cover and lower the heat to a simmer. Let it cook until the mung beans are soft. Season with tamari or soy sauce, balsamic vinegar, and pepper (be sure to taste for saltiness after adding the tamari or soy sauce). The stew should be somewhat thick; if it's too watery, continue simmering uncovered to reduce the liquid. I like mine pretty thick, as you can tell from the photos below; but you can just cook it until you get the consistency you want.

I'm not sure if this is traditional, but for extra nutrition I sometimes add some chopped leafy greens (spinach or kale) at the end, and cook through briefly till they wilt. 

And because I'm also unapologetic about my use of olive oil, serve the mung beans in bowls with a drizzle of good olive oil. I don't think that's traditional either, but I learned that from my late grandfather, who liked to drizzle olive oil over his bean stews. We Filipinos typically eat this with rice, but A. enjoys it with roti (Indian flatbread). It actually works out that way too. We are a Filipino-Indian household, after all.

A few notes...
~ The napkin in the upper right photo above is from betsygrace on Etsy. I splurged on this set of rustic linen embroidered napkins and asked for a custom set embroidered with "welcome" in different languages, but I asked for Filipino and Hindi as well to represent mine and my husband's language and culture. "Kain" actually literally translates to "eat" in Filipino. This is how we welcome people into our home; we don't say "welcome", we invite them to eat. :)

~ Here is a great book on Filipino food: Memories of Philippine Kitchens by Amy Besa and Romy Dorotan. Gorgeous photos and lovely stories about the history of Filipino food. 

~ Here is an informative and entertaining blog on Filipino food: Burnt Lumpia

~ My friend Dianne writes much more about Filipino food than I do, such as in this post.

Update on 11.12.12:
I made mung bean stew again tonight, and I added something to a whole other level: homemade garlic confit! It was SO.GOOD. I had some leftover garlic confit that I made last week, so at the last minute I decided to add some. While we were eating the stew, every now and then we would find these creamy, soft, sweet garlic cloves in our bowl, which we then mashed into the stew. Yum.

Here are a few recipe sources for garlic confit:
Epicurious - just garlic and olive oil
Food and Wine - garlic, olive oil, thyme, and chiles 

not your typical green beans... and a recipe for loubie bzeit

I know it must seem like I don't eat anything else but shortbread, ice cream, and cake, but I do eat real food. I mean non-dessert food. I promise. If in doubt, check out my food page here, and you'll see some variety in what I eat, beyond dessert.

Recently we got these beautiful dragon's tongue beans in our weekly produce bag from Fresh Fork Market.



Aren't they pretty? I love the purple striations against yellow. I've never cooked or tasted these before, so I was really excited thinking about what to make with them.

Unfortunately, after some reading on the Internet I found out that the purple striations disappear after cooking. Sad! Just like how the striations in Chioggia beets disappear after cooking as well.

At any rate, I suddenly thought of the Lebanese dish called Loubie Bzeit - a slow-cooked green bean stew with tomatoes, onion, garlic, tomato and spices. 

We also had these gorgeous tomatoes, which I thought would be perfect for this dish. I know - sometimes I think it's a crime to cook summer tomatoes, when they are at their juiciest and sweetest state best enjoyed as is, sprinkled with a little sea salt to bring out their sweetness, or in a caprese salad with basil and creamy, fresh mozzarella or the even more indulgent burrata.

However, A. also recently started requesting heartier "cooked" meals besides the light/raw summer salads I've been preparing. And you know me - when I get a culinary request, I deliver. Except when he almost threatened (in a good way) to enter me into the Food Network's Chopped. Highly unlikely as I don't have a single competitive bone in my body. And, forget about competing, I might just (shamelessly) join the judges at the judges' table and sample all the delicious meals cooked that day.

Anyway, I digress, as always... the stories just somehow sneak their way into my recipe writing.

So here's the recipe. I don't know if it's perfectly authentic...lest I offend any Lebanese cooks out there. Let's just say it's my version. Feel free to play around with the measurements; the spice measurements are only approximations as I didn't measure precisely. When in doubt, start with a small amount; you can always add more later.

Loubie Bzeit

• 1 lb green beans or, in my case, dragon's tongue beans, washed, trimmed, and sliced into 1-inch pieces (no need to be too precise here)
• olive oil - a generous glug, enough to cover the bottom of the pan
• half a large onion, chopped
• ground cinnamon - about 1/4 teaspoon
• ground allspice - about 1/2 teaspoon
• ground cumin - about a 1/4 teaspoon
• half a head of garlic, peeled and cloves left whole, or cut in halves if they are large cloves (I know it sounds like a lot of garlic, but I promise this makes it so good)
• 2 medium tomatoes, chopped
• salt and pepper
• a pinch of sugar

Heat olive oil in a heavy-bottomed skillet, over medium heat. Saute the onion with a little salt and pepper (season as you go!) until soft. Add the cinnamon, allspice, and cumin; saute to bring out the flavors, but be sure to keep scraping the bottom so the spices don't burn or stick. Add the tomatoes (and any tomato juice that collects on your cutting board) and the garlic, and let cook until the tomatoes break down somewhat and the garlic infuses the tomatoes. Add the beans, season again with a little salt and pepper as well as a pinch of sugar, then add about 1/4 cup of water to help soften the beans. Cover the pan, then once the sauce is bubbling lower the heat to let it cook gently.

Unfortunately I didn't time how long this took - I would say at least 15 minutes after the beans are in, but possibly more (I should be better at noting these things down!). The beans should be very soft, but not mushy, and the sauce should have thickened (but it shouldn't be too saucy). If the liquid is too thin or watery, let it simmer uncovered to reduce the liquid. The garlic should be soft as well. Check for seasoning and adjust as needed.

Serve with steamed basmati rice or crusty bread for mopping up the delicious sauce. The beans were soft and sweet, but not overly so; the tomato flavor made more complex by the spices.

As A. is my daily food critic, I always ask: "Do you like it enough for me to make it again?" To that he mumbled, yes, in between mouthfuls.

I had the leftovers for lunch today, and discovered it's good even when cold or at room temperature as well.

Going...

Going...

...gone!

Ethiopian food

When I lived in Cincinnati, there was a family-owned and operated Ethiopian restaurant I used to frequent with friends, called Emanu.  Emanu is actually the matriarch in this family. They had AMAZING food. Now, I have never been to Ethiopia or anywhere remotely close to there, so I have no basis for comparison. But regardless, their food was some of the most delicious I've had. It also helps that the people there have been nice to me, and I love the restaurant's minimalist aesthetic. Oh, and the restroom. I even told my friend Anne specifically to check out their restroom and on one visit she actually photographed it! That modern sink...anyway, check out her photos here (not just of the bathroom sink, but the food!)

(I've heard people say that the state of the restroom in a restaurant, I think, is a good indicator of cleanliness in other areas. But I'm not an expert restaurant critic.).

Going back to the topic... At Emanu I would usually get the vegetarian sampler dish which consisted of lentil stew, collard greens, stewed cabbage, and carrots and green beans, served in separate piles on top of injera (soft flatbread made of teff flour - actually a bit more like a spongy crêpe). The lentils had a nice earthy fragrant-spicy (not hot-spicy) flavor... the collards were tender, and the carrots and green beans were soft and almost caramelized from what I suspect is a slow-cooking process.

Ethiopian food | image by eyesopenwide

I haven't had the opportunity to visit this restaurant again, as it is four hours away after all. But recently I got hit by a strong craving. And if there's something you probably already know about me, it's that I do act on my cravings. Sometimes to a fault, especially if it involves Cape Cod salt + vinegar chips. Or Jeni's roasted strawberry buttermilk ice cream.

But my cravings for Emanu's food...something about the flavors of Ethiopian food are so distinct, yet comforting and strangely familiar.

So I was on a mission to make some. We were getting a lot of greens from our CSA, including collard greens, and both A. and I were starting to get pretty tired of my usual sauteed-greens-in-garlic-and-olive-oil staple.

I found these recipes for lentil stew and collard greens and set off to work. Thankfully I had a lot of the spices already thanks to our pretty extensive spice cabinet that could rival a Penzey's store (yes I'm pretty proud of it too!). I chuckle as I type this, as I am actually notorious among my friends because of my (in)famous spice cabinet. Three years ago, I left my apartment in Cincinnati and moved in with my friends CD and MK for about three months while I was in transition between leaving Cincinnati and coming to Kent. Most of my stuff went into storage. My spices, on the other hand, stayed with me. I moved into my CD's spare bedroom and instead of filling the armoire with clothes, I filled it with spices. I'm serious. My friends even photographed the said armoire-turned-spice-cabinet. They called it the "second pantry" in addition to their existing kitchen/pantry. Such that, when one of us was cooking and we needed an ingredient, the other would say, "go check the second pantry." Now I wonder if they can unearth that photo of the second pantry...

Anyway. This isn't so much a recipe post as much as it is just me sharing my experience making Ethiopian food at home. The lentil recipe called for a spice mix called berbere ("bayr-beray"), a complex, heady spice mix with such depth of flavor, made up of about thirty different things. Ok, not really... but thirteen, to be exact: coriander seeds, fenugreek seeds, black peppercorns, whole allspice, white cardamom pods, whole cloves, dried onion flakes, dried chiles de arbol, paprika, ground nutmeg, ground ginger, ground cinnamon, kosher salt. Whew. I know it's a long list, but don't give up on it yet. I promise, it's GOOD.

Clockwise from top: white cardamom, whole coriander, black peppercorns, whole allspice. Aren't they pretty? I know... the things that amuse me...

 Thankfully there were only two things I needed to buy; first was white cardamom. Because I live in a half-Indian household, we already had green cardamom and black cardamom, but not white. I did not even know prior to this that there was such a thing as white cardamom! The second ingredient I needed was dried onion flakes; I typically use fresh onion in cooking, but of course that wouldn't work in a spice mix and I had no intention of dehydrating onions myself. I know I get a bit really crazy in the kitchen but I don't go that far.

Now I know that the spices listed above are probably not in everyone's kitchens - depending on what you like to cook - but let me tell you that making this spice mix is SO. WORTH. IT.

Fenugreek, in different forms (clockwise from top): ground, seed, and dried leaves. Seeds and dried leaves (methi) are from the Indian grocery store. I used the ground and seed form for these recipes.

Be forewarned though that your house will smell like fenugreek and other spices for maybe... um, 2 days. Even with our sliding doors open while I was cooking, the smell lingered. But again - so worth it.

I always like starting with whole spices to the extent possible - I can buy them in larger amounts and store them without the risk of turning stale or losing flavor. I read somewhere that ground spices start to lose flavor after six months. Of course some spices are just convenient to have already ground though, and I do have those as well - I just store them in airtight glass jars and keep them away from light and direct heat (do not store them in those wall-mounted spice shelves right above your stove!).

Dried Indian red chile peppers. I didn't have chile de arbol, but had a large bag of this stuff. I think it worked out well. I actually grind these into red pepper flakes as well, for Italian cooking. 

Cooking always comforts and grounds me. The process is part methodical, part intuitive, and part creative. And just plain rewarding in the end!

I toasted the spices in a skillet, added them to my spice grinder, gave everything a good stir and stored them in small glass jars (and gave a couple of jars to my friends). I took a whiff of the mixture and the fragrance of the spices resulted in a sneezing fit. This is potent stuff, people. Click here for the recipe.

berbere (Ethiopian spice mix)

"How can I describe the result of this blend? It was both masculine and feminine, shouting for attention and whispering at me to come closer. In one sniff it was bright and crisp; in the next, earthy and slow." - Marcus Samuelsson, Yes, Chef: A Memoir (p. 223)

Once the spice mix is done, everything else is so incredibly easy that I couldn't believe it took me so long to try making Ethiopian food. For the Misr Wot (lentil stew): Onions and garlic, sauteed in a combination of olive oil and butter. Red lentils go into the pot with enough water to cover by about an inch or so, along with some tomato, and about a tablespoon of the spice mix. Then it is left to simmer slowly until the lentils are soft, then the spices and seasoning is adjusted before serving.

Good thing the spice mix makes about 3/4 of a cup, and you only need a couple of tablespoons each time -  so you would have enough to make these lentils again several more times before running out.

Red lentils

Next, Ye'abesha Gomen, or the collard greens. Slow-cooked in aromatics (onions, garlic, ginger), chiles, and spices (black cardamom and nigella) until the leaves are so tender, and the flavor is slightly smoky and spicy, and slightly sweet.

Left: black cardamom pods; right: nigella seeds

Both recipes call for Ethiopian spiced butter, but I left that out because I didn't have enough butter on hand at the time (horror of horrors!). I bet it would be out of this world with this special butter mixture.

We ate the lentils and greens with brown rice instead of the traditional injera - what can I say, I'm Filipino and a rice girl through and through (though I'm sure my roti-loving and naan-loving husband would love injera... but that will be a project for another day).

It was so unbelievably good. I was so addicted I made both dishes twice in a week. Then I made both  again a few weeks after that. As you can see, these dishes have been in heavy rotation recently - which is great because it gives us another flavor profile in our already bean- and lentil-centered diet.

If this isn't comfort food, I don't know what is. I know slow-cooking doesn't sound all that appealing during the summer months, but it's also nice to have some variety aside from cold soups and salads.

I won't re-post the recipes here as they are so nicely laid out in the links above - and I really didn't do anything much to adapt the recipes other than to omit the spiced butter in favor of olive oil.

Now if only I can recreate the cheesecake that the restaurant's matriarch makes. As dessert-loving as I am, I'm actually not a cheesecake person - especially most restaurant cheesecakes. I usually find it too dense, heavy, and cloyingly sweet. Emanu's cheesecake on the other hand is like nothing I've tried before - it's unbelievably light and just heavenly. It's made of a mixture of mascarpone and ricotta and goat cheese (I think) with a touch of honey. It is hands-down the best cheesecake I've had. I guess you can't go wrong with a grandmother's cooking. Oh, and the pine nut pound cake...which caused quite a ruckus when I was with two of my friends one time. But let me just blame that on the Ethiopian espresso we had with dessert.

Why I torture myself dreaming of dessert like this when the restaurant is four hours away from me, I don't know. But at least I can now make the lentils and greens and be transported to fond memories with friends in this restaurant.

~

Once again, here are the links to the recipes:
Misr Wot (Ethiopian Lentil Stew)
Ye'abesha Gomen (Ethiopian Collard Greens)
Berbere (Ethiopian Spice Mix)
Nit'r Qibe (Ethiopian Spiced Butter)

quinoa patties

baked quinoa and vegetable patties

I just discovered this recipe for baked quinoa and vegetable patties. I was drawn to it because it reminded me of the goodness of a homemade veggie burger, but in a tiny package. These patties are a little different; they are more bite-sized and can be eaten as an appetizer or on top of a big vegetable salad.

I made my own modifications to the original recipe:

• used just a quarter of a large red onion instead of a whole onion (I don't have an aversion to onions necessarily; a whole onion just seemed like a lot for the amount of quinoa, which in the recipe was 2 1/2 cups)
• used only 2 eggs instead of 5 (I figured since I'm not using nearly as much onion, the mixture won't need as much egg to hold together...plus that is all the eggs I had left!)
• used ground flaxseed in place of breadcrumbs
• omitted the cumin: I love cumin, but since I am now in a half-Indian household where Indian meals are made at least twice a week, I wanted a different spice for a change
• added garlic (does a Filipino eat anything without garlic?)
• added more chives
• added a little more feta
• a splash of freshly squeezed lemon juice and some lemon zest - amazing what a little citrus can do

I also used a shortcut: I did not have fresh kale, but I did have a bag of frozen chopped greens (mixture of collard greens and kale) that A. picked up at Whole Foods recently. It was perfect for this recipe since the greens were already chopped small - so I started thawing out about 1 1/2 cup (which of course ended up being less than a cup after thawing - so just adjust depending on how much greens you want). 

I tried both ways of cooking as she specified in her recipe: I baked most of it, but cooked a few patties in a cast iron skillet. I do love how using a skillet makes the patties develop a more crunchy crust. Also, whenever I make something that requires egg mixed in, I cook one small piece to check for seasoning. I decided that I would bake the rest (as it has raw egg) to save for later, then I can always warm them in a skillet when I want to enjoy a few (or several). The patties didn't get quite as brown in the oven, but I didn't want to bake them any further as they might dry out. It seems that they tend to hold together better in the oven though, which will make it easier to brown in a skillet later.

browning the patties in a skillet adds a delicious crunchy crust

An "easier" way to get that deeper brown crust might be to place the baking sheet on the top rack and broil the patties for a minute, keeping a close eye on them. But despite knowing my way around the kitchen (or so I thought), I am afraid of broiling things due to a kitchen mishap several years ago. In an effort to achieve that deeper golden brown color, I set my beautiful, painstakingly-made spanakopita on fire once. I thought I would just watch it, then I got distracted and started doing something else (multi-tasking FAIL). Just a few minutes later there were flames on top of my spanakopita. So there. Lesson learned. No. More. Broiling.

Going back to these quinoa patties: these are a nutritional powerhouse - protein, iron, and fiber from quinoa, the vitamins and minerals of dark leafy greens, more protein from the egg and feta, plus lots of herb-y flavor.

They are great on their own, but I also experimented with a faux "aioli" - just some good-quality mayonnaise mixed with lemon juice, lemon zest, finely minced garlic, salt, pepper, and chives.

I imagine I could easily make modifications on this recipe based on what I have available - maybe spinach instead of kale, maybe some grated carrot (to add a little color as well), maybe try different herbs like parsley, etc.

Unfortunately, A. - my biggest food fan and *kind* critic - was not jumping with joy over these, as he's not the biggest fan of quinoa. He does like millet though, so I might try it another time using millet instead.

Oh well. More for me. And that's not such a big problem to have, right? ;-)