Tarragon Chicken Salad with Pecans, Apples, and Grapes

Spring! How you taunt me with your fleeting glimpses, then crush me on the day of your official arrival with a random dusting of snow. At the farmers market, the yearning echoes: bright tulips and daffodils raise expectation, but upon closer look,  the produce status quo is the same dirt-covered root vegetables we've seen the past four months.

But we are getting there! I can gleefully report that new herbs, spinach, and the first crop of peas have landed at the Union Square Greenmarket, and I am frenzied with anticipation to start cooking for warmer weather. In fact, I started early just last weekend with this Tarragon Chicken Salad with Pecans, Apples, and Grapes recipe. Because in my book, nothing says spring like a fresh tarragon sprig.

Cooking with herbs is a great way to jumpstart the arrival of spring—culinarily-speaking, that is. I encourage you to wait for the arrival of seasonal gems like asparagus, peas, rhubarb, and strawberries to greet them in their local element, the tastes will be unparalleled. Instead, conjure freshness with a smattering of fresh herbs. It's amazing what a tablespoon of tarragon, dill or chives can do to vivify a dish.

Spring also signifies the arrival of lighter fare: room-temperature, heaping-ingredient salads (my favorite!) eaten unhurriedly on an outside patio or picnic.  (Says the girl who lives in a patioless NYC apartment and is always in a hurry... I can dream). Said salads dotted with fresh fruit and nuts are always winners, and while you might chide chicken salad as pedestrian—even this waldorf variation—the tarragon, lemon juice and curry powder add really nice depth. As someone who hates mayonnaise, it's surprising how much I love chicken salad, but the key for me is go mayo-light and substitute part of it for plain Greek yogurt (or use one that's canola oil-based, it smells less).

Yet I reserve the ultimate praise for the one ingredient I have yet to mention: the chicken. Because—drumroll, por favor— only now, thanks to this recipe, did I discover the phenomenon of brining chicken! How I was not cognizant of this method for years, chewing rubbery, dry chicken with the patience of a piece of gum, I do not know. Brining the chicken breasts (which is also easy, I promise; doesn't the word sound complicated, like investing?) ensures your chicken is impossibly juicy and moist, a key distinction separating the good chicken salads (curry powder! light mayo! herbs! hooray!) from the bad (too much mayo, rubbery chicken, boo).

If you don't like chicken salad, I can't help you, and this recipe won't make you a convert. If you do like it, this recipe is wonderful representation of all this dish can offer—and a healthful one (if you use light mayo) at that, too. Springtime cooking, commence!

Tarragon Chicken Salad with Pecans, Apples, and Grapes (adapted loosely from Smitten Kitchen)
Serves 4

Ingredients:

~1 3/4 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts (chicken breast tenders work well)

½ c walnuts or pecans, toasted and chopped

4 celery ribs, diced 

2 tbsp finely chopped shallot

1 c purple grapes, halved

1 ½ c granny smith apple, diced

1/2 to 2/3 c light or canola oil-based mayonnaise (or a combo of mayo and plain Greek yogurt)

3 tbsp champagne or white wine vinegar

juice of 1 lemon

2 tbsp finely chopped fresh tarragon

1 tbsp minced parsley

½ tsp curry powder (optional)

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon black pepper
Accompaniments for serving: romaine lettuce, sliced tomato, sliced cucumber, multigrain bread or rolls

Directions:
1. Brine chicken. In a large ziplock bag, combine 2 tbsp table salt with 2 cups of water. Add chicken, release air out, and store, closed, in refrigerator for 30 minutes.
2. Drain, rinse, and pat chicken dry. Heat 2 tsp of oil in a nonstick skillet and cook chicken, about 4 to 6 minutes on each side (less for tenders), or until meat is no longer pink and the juices run clear.
3. When chicken has cooled, chop into ½ inch cubes. Place chicken in a large bowl, and add all other ingredients. Mix thoroughly. Adjust seasonings before serving.

Purple Plum Torte

In the spirit of a sweet Jewish New Year, I set out to make something sugary and delicious with my excess of farmers market stone fruits, ending up with this absolutely perfect Purple Plum Torte. For the Jewish Holidays, the stakes are always high—not only am I cooking for a crowd, but everyone’s brought their best tried-and-trued Jewish dishes to the table, so my dessert needs to be on par with its foodstuff competition. Which got me thinking a lot about Jewish Tradition.

The beguiling fondness of Jewish food is a simple recipe: equal parts tasty and association. Rather than just eating that brisket here and now, the ritualized dish extends beyond the present, touching on all the years past that its been enjoyed in this time of rebirth, religion, family, and friends. In a sense, horology is truly altered: time stops, remembers, anticipates. We look forward to the food with such pleasure, because the memories of the past are so rich. This is what was on my mind when I set out to create my Rosh Hashanah dessert.  I didn’t want to just make something palatable—I wanted something timeless, the stuff of tradition. That dish that people grow to expect year after year, a muddling of gustation and memory.

Alas, the discovery of this recipe was met with extreme pleasure (or shall I say, much cavort over torte!) as it fulfilled both of my objectives: to create a recipe as timeless as it is tasty. Marian Burro’s Plum Torte was published by the New York Times every single September from 1982 to 1989, after its last print the newspaper received a torrent of nostalgic complaints. The torte had come to be known as the marker of the changing of seasons and new beginnings; as predictable as the transition from August to September. The torte is nothing fancy— it has only 8 ingredients and is laughably easy to make. Yet the recipe is revered with an air of filial piety, a solemn respect to its longevity and endurance by all who make it— and a double underlined mandate to not change. Variations are discouraged here, because the torte has already been perfected. You make the torte, you enjoy immensely, you contribute to the legacy.

At this point, curiosity may have already caused you to glance at the ingredient list, and you’re thinking, this looks pretty basic—why all the hype? I've got a few reasons. It’s because nothing bad ever came of creaming together massive amounts of butter and sugar. It’s because when purple, bubbly plum juice seeps down into the depths of the cake, it creates a texture so moist it literally melts in your mouth. It’s because it eats even better the next day—and the third. Lastly, it’s because it tastes like tradition, like something your family will lick their lips over until the next round of Jewish holidays, associating the tremendous torte with these precious, beloved gatherings as we gear up to start the fresh new year. Which, I’d have to say, is the best taste of all.

Purple Plum Torte (by Marian Burros, originally published in New York Times)

Makes 1 torte

Ingredients:

¾ cup sugar

½ cup (8 tbsp) unsalted butter

1 cup unbleached flour, sifted

1 tsp baking powder

Pinch of salt

2 eggs

12 pitted purple Italian plums, halved lengthwise (also called prune plums, the little guys)

Sugar (~2 tsp), lemon juice (~2 tsp), and cinnamon (~1 tsp), for topping—adjust to personal preference

Directions:

1.     Heat oven to 350 degrees.

2.     Cream the sugar and butter in a large bowl. Add the flour, baking powder, salt and eggs and beat well.

3.     Spoon the batter into a spring form pan (a regular pan is fine, just don't expect to serve outside the pan) of 8, 9 or 10 inches. You can grease pan with butter first if preferred, but its not required. Place the plum halves, skin side up, on top of the batter concentrically, until entire surface is covered. Sprinkle lightly with sugar, lemon juice, and cinnamon.

4.     Bake for 40-50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the middle of the cake comes out clean. (Under bake if you plan on reheating the cake in the oven later.) Allow torte to cook for 10 minutes before serving.

Sugar Snap Pea & Strawberry Salad with Garlic Scape Yogurt Dressing

As of the past few weeks, I've been on a binge sugar snap pea diet: crunching my way, oh so earnestly, through a pound of sweet, snacking goodness every day. I just find everything about the tiny pods so satisfying: the crisp edible casing that hugs the tiny sugary peas, the confirmation of each bite with that signature audible snap. Speaking of, I must offer my sincerest apologies to my coworkers...a good desk mate does not a snap pea addict make.

Like any addict, I have to work diligently to keep my stash plentiful. On Wednesday, this involved trekking to the Union Square Greenmarket in balmy, humid heat (sans my trusty travel deodorant) with full knowledge that I'd return to the office glistening with a full body sheen of perspiration, aka, a hot sweaty mess. But I had no choice. (Coworkers, again— sorry!)

As I pushed through the crowds to get to my hands on the much anticipated heaping bundle of snap peas, I passed a tent where chefs from the Natural Gourmet Institute were distributing samples from a cooking demo.  I stopped for a taste—and was absolutely blown away by the glorious Christmas-colored flavors in my cup, bursting like a symphony on my tongue. What is this!?  I inquired, noting that my drug of choice, le sugar snap pea, was a leading ingredient in the salad. It's a Sugar Snap Pea & Strawberry Salad with Garlic Scape Yogurt Dressing, the chef replied, adding that 4 of the 8 ingredients are prime seasonal produce at the farmers market right now.

This salad is seriously fantastic. The two main ingredients, sugar snap peas and strawberries, play off each other brilliantly: the earthy, peppery peas against the confectionery field strawberries. The dressing is divine: creamy yogurt dotted with garlicky scapes, refreshing balsamic and basil, and cooling olive oil. It's simple, but with such fresh, quality ingredients, it's simply outstanding.  My raw sugar snap pea addiction had met its match.
Garlic scapes, known for their serpentine shape, are abundant at the market right now. But if you can't find them, feel free to substitute 1 large minced garlic cloves and 2 minced scallions. Also, I encourage you to extend the dressing to other types of salad—it will work well any time a creamy balsamic vinaigrette seems fit.

Sugar Snap Pea & Strawberry Salad with Garlic Scape Yogurt Dressing (from the Natural Gourmet Institute via GrowNYC)
Serves 6-8

Ingredients:
1 pound sugar snap peas, trimmed and de-stringed*
1 pint strawberries, chopped*

For the Garlic Scape Yogurt Dressing:
1 cup plain yogurt (Greek is OK)
2 tablespoons white wine balsamic vinegar (or white wine vinegar)
4 garlic scapes, minced*
1/2 ounce fresh basil, chopped* (about 1 tbsp; I recommend doubling)
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil (OK to half)
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
Pinch black pepper

*Ingredients available seasonally at the Greenmarket

Directions:
1. In a small bowl, whisk together yogurt, white wine balsamic vinegar, garlic scapes, and basil. Slowly stream in olive oil while stirring, then season with salt and black pepper. Set aside.

2. Steam sugar snap peas until barely tender, about 2 minutes. Let cool for a minute before slicing diagonally into 1/4 inch pieces. Toss with strawberries and let cool completely.

3. Toss salad with dressing and serve.

DIY Frozen Yogurt

All summer I've kept this essential DIY Frozen Yogurt recipe to myself; requiring no ice cream maker and consuming a paltry 5 minutes of your time. I'm sorry! Do you forgive me? I promise my inability to share this coveted sweet treat stemmed from mere forgetfulness, not a perverse calculation to hog all the frozen yogurt for myself. (Mwahahah.) Now, with open arms, I share with you my one-gadget, two-ingredient ingenious froyo recipe.

Because I am a girl who likes sushi and hummus and kale; by default I must have an insane frozen yogurt addiction that propels me into a morphine withdrawal-like frenzy if I don't have it every week. Check, stereotyped fulfilled. When I misplace my wallet, my primary concern is the possibility of forever losing my Tasti D Lite, Pinkberry and 16 Handles frequent buyer cards.

But here is the truth fellow lets-do-spin-then-grab-sushi-and-froyo-after! friends—froyo really isn't so good for you, even if it's post Sweetgreen. What it lacks in fat it more than makes up for in sugar and chemicals; the antithesis of a wholesome, unprocessed food. And while I myself am guilty on many occasions of justification ("but it only has 150 calories so it really can't be that bad"), we all can admit that the $5.50 per cup minimum charge can really can burn a hole in the frequent consumer's wallet. 

So, what is the froyo addict to do? First, buy an immersion blender such is this Cuisinart Smartstick. (Don't complain that it costs $35. That's 4 post-dinner dessert cups + 1 I'm-just-going-to-get-a-giant-tub-but-eat-it-instead-of-dinner cup.) Next, get yo'self some frozen fruit! I love the Trader Joe's mixes—berry medley, tropical fruit blend—and mango chunks are my favorite if sticking to one variety. While you're at it, grab some non-fat, low-sugar plain yogurt: Fage 0% and Siggi's Icelandic-style Skyr will satisfy the charge.

Combine, blend, and you're done! The consistency is truly uncannily similar to chain-produced frozen yogurt, as well as the taste. What's amazing is that this DIY version has no added sugar (you'd never guess!) and is solely made up of protein-packed yogurt and real fruit—the cleanest froyo you'll ever have. Once you go [immersion] blender, you'll never go back: this little guy can also make soups, sauces, and pestos right in your own mixing bowl; clean up barely required.

My tried and true favorite is mango, greek yogurt, vanilla almond milk, and nutmeg. What combo do you plan on mixing up?

DIY Frozen Yogurt

Makes 1 serving

Ingredients:

1 packed cup of frozen fruit (for big chunks like mango and strawberries, cut in half or give a few minutes to defrost)

1/2 cup Greek yogurt or Skyr

dash of liquid (water or milk)

dash of spice (Nutmeg, Cinnamon, Cardamon)
Fresh mint sprigs for garnish (optional)

Directions:

In a medium to large bowl, combine all ingredients. Mix together with a spoon. Insert immersion blender, making sure the mouth is covering the bottom of the bowl at all times, and blend until mixture reaches uniformed consistency. Serve immediately.

Grilled Chicken with Ginger Peach Sauce

Well isn't this just peachy: a new study published in the Journal of the Science of Food and Agriculture found that the nutritional benefits of peaches—low in calories/glycemic index, stellar source of vitamins, phytonutrients and fiber, and potential cancer-fighting properties—are only amplified when canned. Picked and parceled at the peak of freshness, canned peaches let their [cell] walls down, freely distributing greater levels of vitamins (specifically, vitamin C, antioxidants and folate) than when fresh.

So, should you make this Grilled Chicken with Ginger Peach Sauce using canned peaches? No! It's summer, dum dum. Eat this iconic summer stone fruit now, when the fuzzy is fresh. I'm just telling you because this sauce is so good you're going to want to make it all year round, so in the winter when you're craving any connection to summer, you don't have to feel guilty for buying your main ingredient a la can. (No added sugar though. That ruins everything.)

Hailing from Better Homes and Gardens (my favorite magazine, despite owning neither a home nor a garden), this recipe appeared in the August edition highlighting dishes featuring peaches. At only 41 calories per serving, it truly is summertime light. Biting ginger and crushed red pepper perfectly offset the honeyed peaches, while the soy sauce, fish sauce and rice wine vinegar add subtle Asian flare. Slow simmering the peaches makes the flesh delicately soft and tender to the touch; yielding a liquid that is literally drinkable.

I served the Ginger Peach Sauce atop grilled chicken; I think it would work with grilled shrimp, salmon, and tofu as well. Alternatively, you can serve as a dipping sauce for rustic, crusty bread. Either way, these peaches could not be more palatable—a must-try during peak season of the sensational stone fruit.

Grilled Chicken with Ginger Peach Sauce (from Better Homes and Gardens)

Makes 2 cups

Ingredients:

1 tbsp Grapeseed oil

¼ cup chopped yellow or red onion

2 tbsp finely chopped ginger

3 cups peeled chopped peaches (can also be frozen and thawed)

1 tbsp soy sauce

1 tbsp honey

1 tsp fish sauce
1 tbsp rice wine vinegar

1/4 tsp crushed red pepper (more if you like heat)

Directions:

1. In a midsized saucepan, heat oil over medium heat. Add the chopped onion and ginger; cook and stir for 1 minute.

2. Add peaches, soy sauce, honey, rice vinegar and fish sauce to the saucepan; bring to simmer.

3. Cook, uncovered, for 10 minutes or until peaches soften. Sprinkle with crushed red pepper.
4. Serve atop grilled chicken, shrimp, salmon, or tofu.

Blueberry Quinoa Amaretto Crisp

For this Blueberry Quinoa Amaretto Crisp, it was love at first sight.  How did the recipe so quickly win over my affection? The answer is threefold: First, alluring me with one of my favorite seasonal summer fruits; second, seducing me with a triple hit of almond: slivered nuts, almond flour, and amaretto almond liquor; and third, courting me with my favorite grain-that’s-not-actually-a-grain, quinoa.  The result: a bubbling, toasted pan of perfection, boasting not one but two superfoods. Oh, my heart (and tummy) are so full.

 

The crisp's quinoa topping is not as sweet as you’d presume in this type of dish. While unexpected, I found myself liking it: I treated the dish almost more as a breakfast consideration, rather than dessert. The quinoa mixed with slivered almonds makes for a topping with quite a crunch, which gently coats the real star of the dish: the blueberries.

The blueberry-amaretto combination, eaten while still warm, is truly heavenly. It’s like a rich, thick, almondy syrup. I kind of felt like I was eating all the best elements of a blueberry pancake.  Then, the quinoa topping caves, falling into blueberry puddle, and that syrup gets sopped up by each quinoa grain.  Yum.

 

I’ve never used quinoa in a sweet dish before, and really enjoyed its nutty, grainy contribution. However, I did feel like some of the other elements of the topping—like butter, brown sugar and almond flour—got lost within it.  Next time, I will double up on these ingredients. But there is no denying the satisfaction of that quinoa crunch.

Blueberry Quinoa Amaretto Crisp (from Closet Cooking)

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup quinoa, rinsed
• 3/4 cup water
• 6 cups blueberries
• 1/4 cup sugar
• 1 tablespoon cornstarch
• 2 tablespoons amaretto 
• 2 tablespoons lemon juice (~1/2 lemon)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 2 tablespoons brown sugar
• 2 tablespoons butter, melted
• 1/4 cup almond flour (or flour or rice flour etc)
• 1/4 cup almond slices

Directions:

1. Bring the water and quinoa to a boil, reduce the heat and simmer, covered, until the quinoa is tender and has absorbed the water, about 15 minutes, remove from heat and let sit for 5 minutes, covered.
2. Mix the blueberries, sugar, cornstarch, amaretto, lemon juice and vanilla and place in an 8x8 inch baking dish (or a number of smaller dishes).
3. Mix the quinoa, brown sugar, butter, flour and almond slices and crumble on top of the blueberries.
4. Bake in a preheated 350F oven until it is bubbling and the top is golden brown, about 30-45 minutes.