The Rain is on the Roof

Marg added a used Chiarello cookbook to our burgeoning collection recently. I can't blame her - even his name can get your salivaries going. And I own to adding food books to our collection on a pretty regular basis myself. Mine are more typically in the way of food essays a la John Thorne rather than cookbooks - though I routinely prowl used bookstores for a copy of "The Italian Baker." But a new cookbook like this one can really stir our pond.

I merely glanced over Eric's shoulder a couple times while he was giving the newest book an initial perusal, but nevertheless came away with some shopping goals. A terrific benefit of working downtown is access to diverse food and spice sources, especially if you are looking for leg work and/or imaginative in using mass transit. The International District and Pike Place Market are my primary foraging areas.

The idea of high-quality tuna-in-oil resonated with me. Actually, challenged gift-giver that I am, my offering a while back of a high-priced tin of tuna for my mother seems almost magically inspired. Shortly after cookbook appeared, I acquired a $6.50 tiny canned tuna "for the pantry."

But then, by whatever mysterious means, we lacked a dinner idea last Thursday and Salad Nicoisse sidled up and courted me, and I knew this was a spouse favorite. So I went on-line for recipe, and what do you know. Premium-grade tuna in oil is a prime ingredient. Of course I had more materials to forage for (e.g., the eponymous olives). But it was fun to have my Ft. Knox-priced tuna find a prompt usage. And I can live with that cost (and olives!), given that it made for a glorious salad for three and at least two follow-up lunches. Mercy. Sorry you have to settle for visual.

Dutiful readers here know that I am in the business of putting in Spring seeds. It has not been a particularly warm and genial Spring so far, so my planting has been limited. But peas, favas, and mesclun in particular are all popping out this week. Okay, your test is to identify seeds/herbs seen below (no, peas, favas, and mesclun are not candidates).

Back to Chiarello. He touts a favorite mix of spices that I could not resist replicating. Three only, pan-warmed to jack up the essence a bit, then ground with a bit of salt. I admit it is a truly savoury blend.

Following up on salad success, I pressure-cooked dry great northern/cannellini beans for use in a recipe for Spring veggies and beans. The original called for spinach and carrots, but I went for asparagus and carrots. Result was well-accepted and variants obviously possible.

We're pretty omnivorous around here, rarely forswearing meat, or at least some chunks of chicken (excellent Tikka Masala with naan tonight!). But we somehow at my unintentional instigation were quite content to limit our dinner-time carnivore behavior over two nights to tinned tuna.