Garlic And Orange Quotes

I will rip your balls off and sauté them in garlic butter with basil and ground pepper. I will then add a garnish of shaved orange peels and a side of fresh-cut sliced beets misted with lemon juice. I will beautifully plate it and enjoy a glass of white wine with it while dressed in a tuxedo. It will be a Michelin three-star meal and you will not be invited to join me!

The banquet proceeded. The first course, a mince of olives, shrimp and onions baked in oyster shells with cheese and parsley was followed by a soup of tunny, cockles and winkles simmered in white wine with leeks and dill. Then, in order, came a service of broiled quail stuffed with morels, served on slices of good white bread, with side dishes of green peas; artichokes cooked in wine and butter, with a salad of garden greens; then tripes and sausages with pickled cabbage; then a noble saddle of venison glazed with cherry sauce and served with barley first simmered in broth, then fried with garlic and sage; then honey-cakes, nuts and oranges; and all the while the goblets flowed full with noble Voluspa and San Sue from Watershade, along with the tart green muscat wine of Dascinet.

Kate Moss famously said that “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” So I thought I’d put together a little list of things she’s obviously never tried before that taste so much better than buying into an oppressive body ideal could ever feel: Pasta, pizza, mangoes, avocados, doughnuts, peanut butter, sushi, bacon, chocolate cake, lemon cake, any cake really, blueberries, garlic bread, smoked salmon, poached eggs, apples, roast dinners, cookie dough, sweet potatoes, whipped cream, freshly squeezed orange juice, watermelon, gelato, paella, oh and cheese. You’re welcome, Kate!

I don’t like stories. I like moments. I like night better than day, moon better than sun, and here-and-now better than any sometime-later. I also like birds, mushrooms, the blues, peacock feathers, black cats, blue-eyed people, heraldry, astrology, criminal stories with lots of blood, and ancient epic poems where human heads can hold conversations with former friends and generally have a great time for years after they’ve been cut off. I like good food and good drink, sitting in a hot bath and lounging in a snowbank, wearing everything I own at once, and having everything I need close at hand. I like speed and that special ache in the pit of the stomach when you accelerate to the point of no return. I like to frighten and to be frightened, to amuse and to confound. I like writing on the walls so that no one can guess who did it, and drawing so that no one can guess what it is. I like doing my writing using a ladder or not using it, with a spray can or squeezing the paint from a tube. I like painting with a brush, with a sponge, and with my fingers. I like drawing the outline first and then filling it in completely, so that there’s no empty space left. I like letters as big as myself, but I like very small ones as well. I like directing those who read them here and there by means of arrows, to other places where I also wrote something, but I also like to leave false trails and false signs. I like to tell fortunes with runes, bones, beans, lentils, and I Ching. Hot climates I like in the books and movies; in real life, rain and wind. Generally rain is what I like most of all. Spring rain, summer rain, autumn rain. Any rain, anytime. I like rereading things I’ve read a hundred times over. I like the sound of the harmonica, provided I’m the one playing it. I like lots of pockets, and clothes so worn that they become a kind of second skin instead of something that can be taken off. I like guardian amulets, but specific ones, so that each is responsible for something separate, not the all-inclusive kind. I like drying nettles and garlic and then adding them to anything and everything. I like covering my fingers with rubber cement and then peeling it off in front of everybody. I like sunglasses. Masks, umbrellas, old carved furniture, copper basins, checkered tablecloths, walnut shells, walnuts themselves, wicker chairs, yellowed postcards, gramophones, beads, the faces on triceratopses, yellow dandelions that are orange in the middle, melting snowmen whose carrot noses have fallen off, secret passages, fire-evacuation-route placards; I like fretting when in line at the doctor’s office, and screaming all of a sudden so that everyone around feels bad, and putting my arm or leg on someone when asleep, and scratching mosquito bites, and predicting the weather, keeping small objects behind my ears, receiving letters, playing solitaire, smoking someone else’s cigarettes, and rummaging in old papers and photographs. I like finding something lost so long ago that I’ve forgotten why I needed it in the first place. I like being really loved and being everyone’s last hope, I like my own hands—they are beautiful, I like driving somewhere in the dark using a flashlight, and turning something into something completely different, gluing and attaching things to each other and then being amazed that it actually worked. I like preparing things both edible and not, mixing drinks, tastes, and scents, curing friends of the hiccups by scaring them. There’s an awful lot of stuff I like.

She browned onions and garlic, and from the pot on the windowsill, chopped a few winter-sad leaves of tarragon. The smell was green and strong, and she thought of spring. Spring in Dijon, when she and Al would hike into the mountains with the Club Alpin, the old women forever chiding her tentative steps, her newborn French: la petite violette, violette américaine. She would turn back to Al, annoyed, and he would laugh. Hardly his delicate flower. When they stopped for lunch, it was Mary Frances with the soufflé of calves' brains, whatever was made liver or marrow, ordering enough strong wine that everyone was laughing. The way home, the women let her be. If she wanted calves' brains now, she wouldn't even know where to begin to look or how to pay. She and Al seemed to be living on vegetables and books, tobacco, quiet. She blanched a bunch of spinach and chopped it. She beat eggs with the tarragon, heated the skillet once again. There was a salad of avocados and oranges. There was a cold bottle of ale and bread. Enough, for tonight.

Load the sailboat with bottles of white wine, olive oil, fishing rods, and yeasty, dark-crusted bread. Work your way carefully out of the narrow channels of the Cabras port on the western shore of Sardinia. Set sail for the open seas. Navigate carefully around the archipelago of small boats fishing for sea bass, bream, squid. Steer clear of the lines of mussel nets swooping in long black arcs off the coastline. When you spot the crumbling stone tower, turn the boat north and nuzzle it gently into the electric blue-green waters along ancient Tharros. Drop anchor. Strip down to your bathing suit. Load into the transport boat and head for shore. After a swim, make for the highest point on the peninsula, the one with the view of land and sea and history that will make your knees buckle. Stay focused. You're not here to admire the sun-baked ruins of one of Sardinia's oldest civilizations, a five-thousand-year-old settlement that wears the footprints of its inhabitants- Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans- like the layers of a cake. You're here to pick herbs growing wildly among the ancient tombs and temples, under shards of broken vases once holding humans' earliest attempts at inebriation. Taste this! Like peppermint, but spicy. And this! A version of wild lemon thyme, perfect with seafood. Pluck a handful of finocchio marino,sea fennel, a bright burst of anise with an undertow of salt. Withfinocchioin fist, reboard the transport vessel and navigate toward the closest buoy. Grab the bright orange plastic, roll it over, and scrape off the thicket of mussels growing beneath. Repeat with the other buoys until you have enough mussels to fill a pot. In the belly of the boat, bring the dish together: Scrub the mussels. Bring a pot of seawater to a raucous boil and drop in the spaghetti- cento grammi a testa. While the pasta cooks, blanch a few handfuls of the wild fennel to take away some of the sting. Remove the mussels from their shells and combine with sliced garlic, a glass of seawater, and a deluge of peppery local olive oil in a pan. Take the pasta constantly, checking for doneness. (Don't you dare overcook it!) When only the faintest resistance remains in the middle, drain and add to the pan of mussels. Move the pasta fast and frequently with a pair of tongs, emulsifying the water and mussel juice with the oil. Keep stirring and drizzling in oil until a glistening sheen forms on the surface of the pasta. This is called la mantecatura, the key to all great seafood pastas, so take the time to do it right.

Foods to Embrace: Probiotics: Yogurt with active cultures, tempeh, miso, natto, sauerkraut, kefir, kimchi, kombucha, buttermilk, and certain cheeses. Prebiotics: Beans, oats, bananas, berries, garlic, onions, dandelion greens, asparagus, Jerusalem artichokes, and leeks. Low-GI carbohydrates: Brown rice, quinoa, steel-cut oatmeal, and chia seeds. Medium-GI foods, in moderation: Honey, orange juice, and whole-grain bread. Healthy fats: Monounsaturated fats like olive oil, nuts, nut butters, and avocados. Omega-3 fatty acids: Fish, especially fatty fish like salmon, mackerel, tuna, herring, and sardines. Vitamins B9, B12, B1, B6, A, and C. Minerals and micronutrients: Iron, magnesium, potassium, zinc, and selenium. Spices: Saffron and turmeric. Herbs: Oregano, lavender, passionflower, and chamomile. Foods to Avoid: Sugar: Baked goods, candy, soda, or anything sweetened with sugar or high-fructose corn syrup. High-GI carbs: White bread, white rice, potatoes, pasta, and anything else made from refined flour. Artificial sweeteners: Aspartame is particularly harmful, but also saccharin, sucralose, and stevia in moderation and with caution. Fried foods: French fries, fried chicken, fried seafood, or anything else deep-fried in oil. Bad fats: Trans fats such as margarine, shortening, and hydrogenated oils are to be avoided totally; omega-6 fats such as vegetable, corn, sunflower, and safflower oil should only be consumed in moderation. Nitrates: An additive used in bacon, salami, sausage, and other cured meats.

The cuisine of Northern Iran, overlooked and underrated, is unlike most Persian food in that it's unfussy and lighthearted as the people from that region. The fertile seaside villages of Mazandaran and Rasht, where Soli grew up before moving to the congested capital, were lush with orchards and rice fields. His father had cultivated citrus trees and the family was raised on the fruits and grains they harvested. Alone in the kitchen, without Zod's supervision, he found himself turning to the wholesome food of his childhood, not only for the comfort the simple compositions offered, but because it was what he knew so well as he set about preparing a homecoming feast for Zod's only son. He pulled two kilos of fava beans from the freezer. Gathered last May, shucked and peeled on a quiet afternoon, they defrosted in a colander for a layered frittata his mother used to make with fistfuls of dill and sprinkled with sea salt. One flat of pale green figs and a bushel of new harvest walnuts were tied to the back of his scooter, along with two crates of pomegranates- half to squeeze for fresh morning juice and the other to split and seed for rice-and-meatball soup. Three fat chickens pecked in the yard, unaware of their destiny as he sharpened his cleaver. Tomorrow they would braise in a rich, tangy stew with sour red plums, their hearts and livers skewered and grilled, then wrapped in sheets of lavash with bouquets of tarragon and mint. Basmati rice soaked in salted water to be steamed with green garlic and mounds of finely chopped parsley and cilantro, then served with a whole roasted, eight kilo white fish stuffed with barberries, pistachios, and lime. On the farthest burner, whole bitter oranges bobbed in blossom syrup, to accompany rice pudding, next to a simmering pot of figs studded with cardamom pods for preserves.

Load the sailboat with bottles of white wine, olive oil, fishing rods, and yeasty, dark-crusted bread. Work your way carefully out of the narrow channels of the Cabras port on the western shore of Sardinia. Set sail for the open seas. Navigate carefully around the archipelago of small boats fishing for sea bass, bream, squid. Steer clear of the lines of mussel nets swooping in long black arcs off the coastline. When you spot the crumbling stone tower, turn the boat north and nuzzle it gently into the electric blue-green waters along ancient Tharros. Drop anchor. Strip down to your bathing suit. Load into the transport boat and head for shore. After a swim, make for the highest point on the peninsula, the one with the view of land and sea and history that will make your knees buckle. Stay focused. You're not here to admire the sun-baked ruins of one of Sardinia's oldest civilizations, a five-thousand-year-old settlement that wears the footprints of its inhabitants- Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans- like the layers of a cake. You're here to pick herbs growing wildly among the ancient tombs and temples, under shards of broken vases once holding humans' earliest attempts at inebriation. Taste this! Like peppermint, but spicy. And this! A version of wild lemon thyme, perfect with seafood. Pluck a handful of finocchio marino,sea fennel, a bright burst of anise with an undertow of salt. With finocchio in fist, reboard the transport vessel and navigate toward the closest buoy. Grab the bright orange plastic, roll it over, and scrape off the thicket of mussels growing beneath. Repeat with the other buoys until you have enough mussels to fill a pot. In the belly of the boat, bring the dish together: Scrub the mussels. Bring a pot of seawater to a raucous boil and drop in the spaghetti- cento grammi a testa. While the pasta cooks, blanch a few handfuls of the wild fennel to take away some of the sting. Remove the mussels from their shells and combine with sliced garlic, a glass of seawater, and a deluge of peppery local olive oil in a pan. Take the pasta constantly, checking for doneness. (Don't you dare overcook it!) When only the faintest resistance remains in the middle, drain and add to the pan of mussels. Move the pasta fast and frequently with a pair of tongs, emulsifying the water and mussel juice with the oil. Keep stirring and drizzling in oil until a glistening sheen forms on the surface of the pasta. This is called la mantecatura, the key to all great seafood pastas, so take the time to do it right.

Outside the snapdragons, cords of light. Today is easy as weeds & winds & early. Green hills shift green. Cardinals peck at feeders—an air seed salted. A power line across the road blows blue bolts. Crickets make crickets in the grass. We are made & remade together. An ant circles the sugar cube. Our shadow’s a blown sail running blue over cracked tiles. Cool glistening pours from the tap, even on the edges. A red wire, a live red wire, a temperature. Time, in balanced soil, grows inside the snapdragons. In the sizzling cast iron, a cut skin, a sunny side runs yellow across the pan. Silver pots throw a blue shadow across the range. We must carry this the length of our lives. Tall stones lining the garden flower at once. Tin stars burst bold & celestial from the fridge; blue applause. Morning winds crash the columbines; the turf nods. Two reeling petal-whorls gleam & break. Cartoon sheep are wool & want. Happy birthday oak; perfect in another ring. Branch shadows fall across the window in perfect accident without weight. Orange sponge a thousand suds to a squeeze, know your water. School bus, may you never rust, always catching scraps of children’s laughter. Add a few phrases to the sunrise, and the pinks pop. Garlic, ginger, and mangoes hang in tiers in a cradle of red wire. That paw at the door is a soft complaint. Corolla of petals, lean a little toward the light. Everything the worms do for the hills is a secret & enough. Floating sheep turn to wonder. Cracking typewriter, send forth your fire. Watched too long, tin stars throw a tantrum. In the closet in the dust the untouched accordion grows unclean along the white bone of keys. Wrapped in a branch, a canvas balloon, a piece of punctuation signaling the end. Holy honeysuckle, stand in your favorite position, beside the sandbox. The stripes on the couch are running out of color. Perfect in their polished silver, knives in the drawer are still asleep. A May of buzz, a stinger of hot honey, a drip of candy building inside a hive & picking up the pace. Sweetness completes each cell. In the fridge, the juice of a plucked pear. In another month, another set of moths. A mosquito is a moment. Sketched sheep are rather invincible, a destiny trimmed with flouncy ribbon. A basset hound, a paw flick bitching at black fleas. Tonight, maybe we could circle the floodwaters, find some perfect stones to skip across the light or we can float in the swimming pool on our backs—the stars shooting cells of light at each other (cosmic tag)—and watch this little opera, faults & all.

Spaghetti alla puttanesca is typically made with tomatoes, olives, anchovies, capers, and garlic. It means, literally, "spaghetti in the style of a prostitute." It is a sloppy dish, the tomatoes and oil making the spaghetti lubricated and slippery. It is the sort of sauce that demands you slurp the noodles Goodfellas style, staining your cheeks with flecks of orange and red. It is very salty and very tangy and altogether very strong; after a small plate, you feel like you've had a visceral and significant experience. There are varying accounts as to when and how the dish originated- but the most likely explanation is that it became popular in the mid-twentieth century. The first documented mention of it is in Raffaele La Capria's 1961 novel, Ferito a Morte. According to the Italian Pasta Makers Union, spaghetti alla puttanesca was a very popular dish throughout the sixties, but its exact genesis is not quite known. Sandro Petti, a famous Napoli chef and co-owner of Ischian restaurant Rangio Fellone, claims to be its creator. Near closing time one evening, a group of customers sat at one of his tables and demanded to be served a meal. Running low on ingredients, Petti told them he didn't have enough to make anything, but they insisted. They were tired, and they were hungry, and they wanted pasta. "Facci una puttanata qualsiasi!" they cried. "Make any kind of garbage!" The late-night eater is not usually the most discerning. Petti raided the kitchen, finding four tomatoes, two olives, and a jar of capers, the base of the now-famous spaghetti dish; he included it on his menu the next day under the name spaghetti alla puttanesca. Others have their own origin myths. But the most common theory is that it was a quick, satisfying dish that the working girls of Naples could knock up with just a few key ingredients found at the back of the fridge- after a long and unforgiving night. As with all dishes containing tomatoes, there are lots of variations in technique. Some use a combination of tinned and fresh tomatoes, while others opt for a squirt of puree. Some require specifically cherry or plum tomatoes, while others go for a smooth, premade pasta. Many suggest that a teaspoon of sugar will "open up the flavor," though that has never really worked for me. I prefer fresh, chopped, and very ripe, cooked for a really long time. Tomatoes always take longer to cook than you think they will- I rarely go for anything less than an hour. This will make the sauce stronger, thicker, and less watery. Most recipes include onions, but I prefer to infuse the oil with onions, frying them until brown, then chucking them out. I like a little kick in most things, but especially in pasta, so I usually go for a generous dousing of chili flakes. I crush three or four cloves of garlic into the oil, then add any extras. The classic is olives, anchovies, and capers, though sometimes I add a handful of fresh spinach, which nicely soaks up any excess water- and the strange, metallic taste of cooked spinach adds an interesting extra dimension. The sauce is naturally quite salty, but I like to add a pinch of sea or Himalayan salt, too, which gives it a slightly more buttery taste, as opposed to the sharp, acrid salt of olives and anchovies. I once made this for a vegetarian friend, substituting braised tofu for anchovies. Usually a solid fish replacement, braised tofu is more like tuna than anchovy, so it was a mistake for puttanesca. It gave the dish an unpleasant solidity and heft. You want a fish that slips and melts into the pasta, not one that dominates it. In terms of garnishing, I go for dried oregano or fresh basil (never fresh oregano or dried basil) and a modest sprinkle of cheese. Oh, and I always use spaghetti. Not fettuccine. Not penne. Not farfalle. Not rigatoni. Not even linguine. Always spaghetti.

PROVENÇAL CHICKEN Cut an organic fresh chicken in eight pieces. (You can also buy these already cut.) Sauté the pieces in olive oil over medium heat until they are lightly browned all around. Salt and pepper to taste. Add two diced green peppers and one diced fennel bulb. Sauté until the vegetables are semi-soft. Add six whole garlic cloves, fresh thyme, and the zest of two oranges. Dice ten tomatoes and add them to the pot. Let simmer on low heat for one hour, until the chicken is cooked through. At the end, add one glass of red wine. Let it simmer for a few minutes, then cover and let it set until serving.

teaspoon and a half of chili powder; -A teaspoon and a half of pumpkin pie spice; -A teaspoon of minced garlic; -Butter, 2 tablespoons; -Chicken bouillon cubes, 2 pieces; -Ground ginger, 2 teaspoons; -Orange juice, 2 tablespoons; -Pumpkin puree, 2 14-ounce cans; and -Water, 2 cups.

BUILD FLAVOR: Cook bacon in pressure-cooker pot over medium-high heat until browned and crisp, about 3 minutes. Stir in onion and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in garlic and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Stir in pomegranate juice, brown sugar, orange zest and juice, and thyme. Using wooden spoon, scrape up all browned bits stuck on bottom of pot. Pat short ribs dry with paper towels, season with salt and pepper, and nestle into pot. 2. HIGH PRESSURE FOR 35 MINUTES: Lock pressure-cooker lid in place and bring to high pressure over medium-high heat. As soon as pot reaches high pressure, reduce heat to medium-low and cook for 35 minutes, adjusting heat as needed to maintain high pressure. 3. NATURALLY RELEASE PRESSURE: Remove pot from heat and allow pressure to release naturally for 15 minutes. Quick release any remaining pressure, then carefully remove lid, allowing steam to escape away from you. 4. BEFORE SERVING: Transfer short ribs to platter, tent loosely with aluminum foil, and let rest while finishing sauce.

HONEY MUSTARD VINAIGRETTE You can alter this basic recipe by adding any of the following ingredients: ½ teaspoon sweet paprika, 1 teaspoon grated lemon or orange peel, or 1 teaspoon dried herbs, such as tarragon, basil, mint, or oregano. If you prefer fresh herbs, use 1 tablespoon of the finely chopped leaves. TOTAL TIME: 5–10 MINUTES YIELD: 1½ CUPS ¼ cup vinegar of your choice 1–2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice, lime juice, or orange juice 1 tablespoon honey 1–2 garlic cloves, finely minced or pushed through a garlic press 1 tablespoon prepared mustard or 1 teaspoon powdered mustard ¾ teaspoon salt, or more or less to taste Freshly ground black pepper to taste 1 cup extra virgin olive oil, preferably unfiltered Combine all ingredients except the oil and mix until well blended. You can beat with a spoon or wire whisk or blend for ten seconds in a food processor on medium-high speed. Then add the oil in a thin drizzle, whisking constantly. If you’re using a food processor, process on medium speed as you add the oil. Pour enough dressing over the salad to coat the greens, but not so much that it pools in the bottom of the salad bowl. Store in the refrigerator for up to two weeks. Bring to room temperature before using.

WEEK#1 SHOPPING LIST   *FRUITS & VEGETABLES ALL ORGANIC AND/OR WILD *MEATS FREE RANGE, NO ANTIBIOTICS OR HORMONES ADDED *FISH OCEAN WISE & WILD *Remember to always read the ingredients and check for added sugars, chemicals and MSG etc.   1 LEMON 2 LIMES 4 MEDIUM YELLOW ONIONS 1 BUNDLE ORGANIC GREEN ONIONS 1 RED ONION 1 GINGER ROOT 2 WHOLE GARLIC 1 BUNDLE OF ASPARGUS 2 CAULIFLOWER HEADS 2 ORGANIC RED PEPPERS 2 GREEN PEPPERS 3 AVOCADOS 1 PACK BOK CHOY 15 ORGANIC TOMATOES 1 SPAGHETTI SQUASH 3 SWEET POTATOES 1 YAM 2 BUNDLES OF ORGANIC BROCCOLI 6 ZUCCHINI 4 CARROTS 3 BEETS 12-15 BROWN MUSHROOMS 1 SMALL BAG/BOX ARUGULA SALAD 1 BUNDLE OF ROMAINE LETTUCE 1 BUNDLE FRESH BASIL   2 APPLES 1 BANANA 1 SMALL PACKAGE FRESH OR FROZEN WILD BLUEBERRIES 1 ORANGE   2 PACKAGES FREE RANGE NO ANTIOBIOTIC EGGS (24 TOTAL)   1 20oz (750Ml) TOMATO SAUCE 1 CAN 14OZ TOMATO PUREE 2 8oz (250mL) CANS COCONUT CREAM 2 16oz (500mL) CANS COCONUT MILK 1 12OZ CAN PUMPKIN PUREE   JAR OF OLIVES (no sugars added)   1 - ½ LB SMALL BAG (200G) OF REAL CRAB MEAT 2 – 2 LB BAGS (400G EACH) OF FROZEN WILD SHRIMP & SCALLOP MEDLEY 1 LARGE PIECE WILD SOCKEY SALMON (FRESH) 1 LB BEEF SIRLOIN 1LB GROUND BEEF 1 ½ LB (750G) NO-ANTIOBIOTIC CHICKEN SLICES 4 NO-ANTIOBIOTIC ALL NATURAL CHICKEN BREAST 7OZ (400G) ORGANIC GROUND TURKEY 1 PACKAGE MSG-FREE, NO NITRATE BACON   100G DRIED FRUIT (BLUEBERRIES, CRANBERRIES) 200G HAZELNUTS 100G ALMONDS 100G CASHEWS 100 WALNUTS 100G SESAME SEEDS 50G PUMPKIN SEEDS   1 BOTTLE NO SULFITE ORGANIC WHITE WINE (OPTIONAL)  

herb citrus vinaigrette 1½ tablespoons orange juice 1½ tablespoons lemon juice 1½ tablespoons lime juice 2 cloves garlic, minced 2 teaspoons mustard powder ¾ cup extra-virgin olive oil 1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves 1 teaspoon minced fresh cilantro 1 teaspoon minced fresh parsley ½ teaspoon salt ½ teaspoon black pepper This dressing is great on our Stir-Fry Chicken, and also makes the perfect marinade or topping for fish, shrimp, or scallops, or a fresh green salad. Whisk together the orange juice, lemon juice, lime juice, garlic, and mustard powder in a small mixing bowl. Drizzle in the olive oil while whisking steadily to emulsify. Add the thyme, cilantro, parsley, salt, and pepper and whisk until blended.

The aroma of garlic and saffron wafted through the air from a corner café. When they approached the boulangerie, Danielle detected the sweet scent of calissons d'Aix, the almond cookies she had loved as a girl. "Let's stop." In the bakery Philippe selected fresh breads, including brioche and Danielle's favorite, fougassette, a flat bread made with orange blossom water.

Defense: Immunity Acerola Aged garlic Apple peel Apples (Granny Smith, Red Delicious, Reinette) Apricots Arugula Bamboo shoots Barley Belgian endive Black plums Black raspberries Black tea Blackberries Blackberries (dried) Blueberries Blueberries (dried) Bok choy Broccoli Broccoli rabe Broccoli sprouts Cabbage Camu camu Capers Carrots Cauliflower Chamomile tea Chanterelle mushrooms Cherries Cherries (dried) Cherry tomatoes Chestnuts Chia seeds Chile peppers Coffee Collard greens Concord grape juice Cranberries Cranberries (dried) Cranberry juice Dark chocolate Eggplant Enoki mushrooms Escarole Fiddleheads Flax seeds Frisee Ginseng Goji berries Grapefruit Green tea Guava Kale Kimchi Kiwifruit Licorice root Lychee Maitake mushrooms Mangoes Morel mushrooms Mustard greens Nectarines Olive oil (EVOO) Onions Orange juice Oranges Oyster mushrooms Pacific oysters Peaches Peppermint Plums Pomegranates Porcini mushrooms Pumpkin seeds Puntarelle Radicchio Raspberries Razor clams Red-leaf lettuce Red wine (Cabernet, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot) Romanesco Rosemary Rutabaga Saffron Sauerkraut Sesame seeds Shiitake mushrooms Spinach Squash blossoms Squid ink Strawberries Sultana raisins Swiss chard Tardivo di Treviso Truffles Turmeric Turnips Walnuts Watercress White button mushrooms

Forty-five minutes later, Troy and Hannah returned with a speeding ticket, a pan of fresh salmon, one black truffle, three tins of caviar, a covered box of mushrooms, and twelve filet mignons that had originally been intended to be served with a spicy Gorgonzola sauce of shiitake mushrooms and chipotle chilies. That sauce now coated a good portion of the highway. "Start slicing the beef," ordered Carmen, "and make it paper thin. We're going to wrap it around the green onions we already have here, and God help me, we're going to make it stretch." The salmon was quickly thrown into the Aga to bake, then drizzled with a vanilla-infused vegetable oil and sprinkled with roe. "We're going to run out of plates," said Oliver. "Good thing I saw more potatoes in the pantry," said Carmen. "We'll make smaller galettes, and use them as though they were plates." "What do you want me to do with the mushrooms?" Troy was rubbing each mushroom with a clean soft cloth, as Oliver had instructed him. "Get them started in a pan with a little olive oil, and we'll brown them with some of our fresh garlic and the thyme from Gus's garden," said Carmen. "We'll finish them with a few drops of sherry. Hannah!" Hannah waited for her marching orders. "Find those oranges I saw you pigging out on earlier, and bring them to the stovetop." "And then what?" said Hannah. "Then it's time for you to cook," said Carmen. "You're going to create a syrup from red wine, a little zest, cinnamon, and sugar, and let it simmer for a half hour. We'll cool it in an ice bath and drench the oranges.

The fruit and vegetable stalls were a dazzling mass of color: oranges and tomatoes that we rarely saw in England. Bright lemons and purple onions. Spiky artichokes I had only just learned about at the palace; giant cloves of garlic- wouldn't the queen be horrified to see those? And shiny purple vegetables shaped like fat, bulging cucumbers. "What are they?" I asked the woman at the stall. She looked at me as if I was a visitor from the moon. "Aubergine, mademoiselle. You have not tried them? They are very good. We make the ratatouille." "And those?" I pointed to round red and yellow vegetables that looked so shiny they seemed to made of wax. "The peppers?" she asked in amazement. "You do not eat peppers where you come from?" "I've never seen them before," I said. "Then try," she urged. "And the aubergine, too. They are delicious stuffed." She shook her head as if I was a creature to be pitied. I bought one of each, and one of the purple onions at her insistence, and went on to the next stall. This one had an array of olives. Olives were a rare luxury in England. I had never tried them personally, but here was a whole stall with olives of varying colors and sizes- fat green ones, slim black ones, some stuffed with something red, others with a white cheese, some in olive oil, some not.

Lemon-Herb Chicken   This chicken recipe is one of my favorites, and something I’ve eaten more times than I can count in the homes of Italians. You can actually find cellophane bundles in the produce section of Tuscany grocery stores that have all the ingredients pre-packaged together (sans chicken, of course.) This is a flexible recipe and can be made with chicken breasts, thighs, quarters, etc. There’s no right or wrong here.   1 whole chicken, washed and patted dry Extra-virgin olive oil 3-4 cloves fresh garlic, peeled and minced 1 lemon, zested and juiced (you can also substitute an orange, if you’d like, or even do both) 10-12 leafs fresh sage (or around 1 T. dried), chopped 3-4 sprigs fresh rosemary (or around 1 T. dried), chopped   Mix the minced garlic, lemon zest (but NOT the juice), sage and rosemary together. Add enough olive oil to create a nice paste. Slather the paste all over and even inside the whole chicken. Let marinate overnight or at least for several hours. Place the chicken on a backing rack in a pan and roast, uncovered, @ 350 degrees for 1-2 hours until a thermometer in the thigh registers 165 degrees. If the chicken gets too brown on top while cooking, cover with tinfoil. Once done, remove the chicken from the oven and pour the saved lemon juice over the entire chicken. Carve and serve, reserving the lemony pan drippings for drizzling over the chicken.

From the Bridge” Celebrating “La Navidad Cubana” Before the fall of Batista, Cuba was considered to be a staunch Catholic Nation. As in other Christian countries, Christmas was considered a religious holiday. In 1962, a few years after the revolution, Cuba became an atheist country by government decree. Then In 1969, Fidel Castro thinking that Christmas was interfering with the production of sugar cane, totally removed the holiday from the official calendar. Of course Christmas was still celebrated by Cubans in exile, many of whom live in South Florida and Union City, NJ. However it was still was celebrated clandestinely in a subdued way on the island. It was said, if it is to believed, that part of the reason for this was due to the fact that Christmas trees do not grow in Cuba. Now that Christianity and Christmas have both been reestablished by the government, primarily due to the Pope’s visits to Cuba, Christmas as a holiday has been reinstated. Many Christmas traditions have been lost over the past five decades and are still not observed in Cuba, although the Cuban Christmas feast is highlighted by a festive “Pig Roast,” called the “Cena de Navidad” or Christmas dinner. Where possible, the dinner includes Roast Pork done on a spit, beans, plantains, rice and “mojo” which is a type of marinade with onions, garlic, and sour orange. Being a special event, some Cubans delight in serving the roasted pork, in fancier ways than others. Desserts like sweet potatos, “turrones” or nougats, “buñuelos” or fritters, as well as readily available tropical fruits and nuts hazelnuts, guava and coconuts, are very common at most Christmas dinners. Beverages such as the “Mojito” a drink made of rum, sugar cane juice, lime, carbonated water and mint, is the main alcoholic drink for the evening, although traditionally the Christmas dinner should be concluded by drinking wine. This grand Christmas dinner is considered a special annual occasion, for families and friends to join together. Following this glorious meal, many Cubans will attend Misa de Gallo or mass of the rooster, which is held in most Catholic churches at midnight. The real reason for Christmas in Cuba, as elsewhere, is to celebrate the birth of Christ. Churches and some Cuban families once again, display manger scenes. Traditionally, children receive presents from the Three Wise Men and not from Santa Claus or the parents. Epiphany or “Three King’s Day,” falls on January 6th. Christmas in Cuba has become more festive but is not yet the same as it used to be. Although Christmas day is again considered a legal holiday in Cuba, children still have to attend school on this holiday and stores, restaurants and markets stay open for regular business. Christmas trees and decorations are usually only displayed at upscale hotels and resorts.

Do you have a frying pan? Not Teflon, I hate that stuff. Cast iron? Or stainless steel?" I found River an old cast iron pan in the cabinet by the sink. I put it on the stove, and I imagined, for a second, Freddie, young, wearing a pearl necklace and a hat that slouched off to one side, standing over that very pan and making an omelet after a late night spent dancing those crazy, cool dances they did back in her day. "Brilliant," River said. He lit the gas stove and threw some butter in the pan. Then he cut four pieces of the baguette, rubbed them with a clove of garlic, and tore a hole out in each. He set the bread in the butter and cracked an egg onto the bread so it filled up the hole. The yolks of the eggs were a bright orange, which, according to Sunshine's dad, meant the chickens were as happy as a blue sky when they laid them. "Eggs in a frame," River smiled at me. When the eggs were done, but still runny, he put them on two plates, diced a tomato into little juicy squares, and piled them on top of the bread. The tomato had been grown a few miles outside of Echo, in some peaceful person's greenhouse, and it was red as sin and ripe as the noon sun. River sprinkled some sea salt over the tomatoes, and a little olive oil, and handed me a plate. "It's so good, River. So very, very good. Where the hell did you learn to cook?" Olive oil and tomato juice were running down my chin and I couldn't have cared less. "Honestly? My mother was a chef." River had the half smile on his crooked mouth, sly, sly, sly. "This is sort of a bruschetta, but with a fried egg. American, by way of Italy.

Marjan measured Bahar's unpredictable temperament according to the ancient and treasured Zoroastrian practice of gastronomic balancing, which pitted light and against dark, good against evil, hot against cold. Certain hot, or 'garm,' personalities tend to be quick to temper, exude more energy, and prompt all others around them to action. This energy often runs itself ragged, so to counter exhaustion, one must consume cold, or 'sard' foods, such as freshwater fish, yogurt, coriander, watermelon, and lentils. Most spices and meats should be avoided, for they only stoke the fires inside. (Tea, although hot in temperature, is quite a neutralizing element.) By contrast, for the person who suffers from too cold a temperament, marked by extreme bouts of melancholia and a general disinterest in the future, hot or 'garm' dishes are recommended. Foods such as veal, mung beans, cloves, and figs do well to raise spirits and excite ambitions. To diagnose Bahar as a 'garmi' (on account of her extreme anxiety and hot temper) would have been simple enough, had she not also suffered from a lowness of spirit that often led to migraine headaches. Whether in a 'garm' or a 'sard' mood, Bahar could always depend on her older sister to guide her back to a relative calm. Marjan had for a long time kept a close eye on Bahar and knew exactly when to feed her sautéed fish with garlic and Seville oranges to settle her hot flashes, or when a good apple 'khoresh,' a stew made from tart apples, chicken, and split peas, would be a better choice to pull Bahar out of her doldrums.

It was in this place where we were on the verge of losing our bodies that bodies became the most important, it was in this place of the great melting that it became important whether you called it pop or soda growing up, or whether your mother cooked with garlic salt or the real chopped cloves, or whether you had actual art on your walls or posed pictures of your family sitting on logs in front of fake backdrops, or whether you had that one Tupperware stained completely orange. You were zoomed in on the grain, you were out in space, it was the brotherhood of man, and in some ways you had never been flung further from each other. You zoomed in and zoomed in on that warm grain until it looked like the coldness of the moon.

CUBAN LECHÓN ASADO 50-pound pig 5 heads of garlic 4 cups orange juice 2 cups lime juice 1 cup sherry 1/2 cup pineapple juice 4 tablespoons oregano 3 teaspoons ground cumin 6 bay leaves 2 tablespoons black peppercorns 2 tablespoons kosher salt 5 tablespoons olive oil

GYOZA IN ORANGE-BASIL BROTH FOR THE FILLING: 1 pound flor de calabaza 2 pounds shrimp, peeled and deveined 1/2 pound portobello mushrooms, chopped 1/2 pound shiitake mushrooms, chopped 2 red onions, chopped 6 cloves garlic 2 tablespoons ginger 2 tablespoons sesame oil FOR THE BROTH: 12 cups veggie stock 4 tablespoons ginger 1/2 cup packed basil leaves 2 tablespoons sesame oil 2 tablespoons sriracha hot sauce 2 tablespoons rice wine vinegar

The following are all foods you should feel welcome to eat freely (unless, of course, you know they bother your stomach): Alliums (Onions, Leeks, Garlic, Scallions): This category of foods, in particular, is an excellent source of prebiotics and can be extremely nourishing to our bugs. If you thought certain foods were lacking in flavor, try sautéing what you think of as that “boring” vegetable or tofu with any member of this family and witness the makeover. Good-quality olive oil, sesame oil, or coconut oil can all help with the transformation of taste. *Beans, Legumes, and Pulses: This family of foods is one of the easiest ways to get a high amount of fiber in a small amount of food. You know how beans make some folks a little gassy? That’s a by-product of our bacterial buddies chowing down on that chili you just consumed for dinner. Don’t get stuck in a bean rut. Seek out your bean aisle or peruse the bulk bin at your local grocery store and see if you can try for three different types of beans each week. Great northern, anyone? Brightly Colored Fruits and Vegetables: Not only do these gems provide fiber, but they are also filled with polyphenols that increase diversity in the gut and offer anti-inflammatory compounds that are essential for disease prevention and healing. Please note that white and brown are colors in this category—hello, cauliflower, daikon radish, and mushrooms! Good fungi are particularly anti-inflammatory, rich in beta-glucans, and a good source of the immune-supportive vitamin D. Remember that variety is key here. Just because broccoli gets a special place in the world of superfoods doesn’t mean that you should eat only broccoli. Branch out: How about trying bok choy, napa cabbage, or an orange pepper? Include a spectrum of color on your plate and make sure that some of these vegetables are periodically eaten raw or lightly steamed, which may have greater benefits to your microbiome. Herbs and Spices: Not only incredibly rich in those anti-inflammatory polyphenols, this category of foods also has natural digestive-aid properties that can help improve the digestibility of certain foods like beans. They can also stimulate the production of bile, an essential part of our body’s mode of breaking down fat. Plus, they add pizzazz to any meal. Nuts, Seeds, and Their Respective Butters: This family of foods provides fiber, and it is also a good source of healthy and anti-inflammatory fats that help keep the digestive tract balanced and nourished. It’s time to step out of that almond rut and seek out new nutty experiences. Walnuts have been shown to confer excellent benefits on the microbiome because of their high omega-3 and polyphenol content. And if you haven’t tasted a buttery hemp seed, also rich in omega-3s and fantastic atop oatmeal, here’s your opportunity. Starchy Vegetables: These hearty vegetables are a great source of fiber and beneficial plant chemicals. When slightly cooled, they are also a source of something called resistant starch, which feeds the bacteria and enables them to create those fantabulous short-chain fatty acids. These include foods like potatoes, winter squash, and root vegetables like parsnips, beets, and rutabaga. When was the last time you munched on rutabaga? This might be your chance! Teas: This can be green, white, or black tea, all of which contain healthy anti-inflammatory compounds that are beneficial for our microbes and overall gut health. It can also be herbal tea, which is an easy way to add overall health-supportive nutrients to our diet without a lot of additional burden on our digestive system. Unprocessed Whole Grains: These are wonderful complex carbohydrates (meaning fiber-filled), which both nourish those gut bugs and have numerous vitamins and minerals that support our health. Branch out and try some new ones like millet, buckwheat, and amaranth. FOODS TO EAT IN MODERATION

Leeds, Massachusetts lived in Gaspar Bantam’s memory as a city of perpetual gloaming, of eternal October. In every memory, in every dream, the faces of jack-o’-lanterns flickered from cornhusk-garlanded porches, treetops glowed orange and red under a sky of charcoal clouds, leaves crunched under your shoes like the snaps and cracks of radio static. The baskets at the farmer’s market spilled over with red and yellow peppers curled like beckoning fingers, and bulbs of garlic hung from knotted strings like clustered nests of pupae. You’d pull the comforter around you for warmth in the mornings but throw your jacket over the bike rack in the sun-seared afternoons before playing Pirates of the Woods. The whole village thrummed and hummed to the constant soundtrack of the peepers and the crickets and the whoosh of trucks on the rush and rumble Interstate. Autumn is said to solemnly herald a kind of dying, but in Leeds, in that shadowy little city tucked into a curve of the mighty Connecticut River, the season is an ecstatic celebration of the fury of death’s rebirth.

She had marinated the fish filets in a mixture of tequila, lime juice, and orange liqueur, with a touch of olive oil and garlic. Now, she spooned a sauce of tomato, jalapeno, onion, and brown sugar over the cooked fish.

Phase I Shopping List For smoothies: 5 red apples 5 small bananas 3 medium oranges 1 bag red or green grapes 5 pears 3 avocados (can use for soups, too) 1 bunch fresh spinach 3 limes 4 (10- or 12-ounce) bags frozen raspberries 2 (10- or 12-ounce) bags frozen blueberries 2 (16-ounce) bags frozen strawberries 1 (16-ounce) bag almonds (can also use for snacking) Ground cinnamon Almonds or 1 (16-ounce) bag almond meal, depending on the strength of your blender Plain or vanilla protein powder (see this page for a complete guide to buying protein powder) 1 (12-ounce) bag ground or whole flaxseeds or chia seeds, depending on the strength of your blender (Some, like the blenders I describe on this page, will be able to grind the seeds themselves. Less powerful machines might require ground seeds.) ½ gallon fat-free, 1 percent, or 2 percent organic milk (or unsweetened nondairy milk of your preference) 1 quart fat-free, 1 percent, or 2 percent plain Greek yogurt (Chobani, Oikos, Fage, Trader Joe’s, Siggi’s, or Icelandic Skyr) For soups: 1 head broccoli 2 medium zucchini 1 pound carrots (can be used for snacking, too) 1 box bouillon cubes (I prefer Knorr’s) Garlic powder Onion powder For snacks: 1 pint fresh blackberries or raspberries 1 small package high-fiber crackers, like Ryvita ½ pound low-fat cheese of your choice 1 (5-or-so-ounce) bag air-popped, low-cal popcorn 1 pound sliced turkey 1 (12-ounce) package frozen or fresh peeled edamame

pie Week 2 DAYS/ MEALS DAY 1 DAY 2 DAY 3 DAY 4 DAY 5 DAY 6 DAY 7 BREAK- -FAST Banana-Amarnath Porridge Coconut-Almond Risotto Breakfast Tofu Scramble Beet Greens Smoothie Pear Oats with walnuts Breakfast Tofu Scramble Beet Greens Smoothie SNACK Classic Hummus Roasted Corn with poblano-cilantro butter Mushroom bun sliders Roasted Cauliflower Hummus Puffed Rice Balls Latkes Red cabbage with apples and pecans LUNCH Tofu Stir-Fry Zucchini and Avocado Salad with garlic herb dressing Tofu summer rolls Quinoa Vegetable salad Tamale Casserole Autumn Wheat Berry Salad Moroccan Lasagna SNACK An apple Easy garlic roasted potatoes Stuffed mushroom One ounce of water Latkes An orange Classic Hummus DINNER Curried Rice Salad Grilled tofu Caprese Clean Vegan Pad Thai Seitan Satay Warm rice and Bean Salad Mushroom Lasagna Spicy Asian Quinoa Salad

From a long board, he watched her rake a pile into the stockpot: tomatoes and garlic, orange peel and bay, the heads and spines and tails of a dozen sardines. She plunged a knife into a spider crab and split it in two, tossing it after. She hadn't noticed Al standing behind her. He cleared his throat, and she swung around. "Oh, goodness," she said. "You've been busy." She held to his face a mortar of green pounded herbs and garlic, a rouille so sharp it made his eyes water. And then a hard loaf of bread, white fish steaks translucent as china; she put a salted almond in his mouth, a crust dipped into the stockpot, her finger. She was giddy, beautiful, his wife. She poured the stock through a strainer, pressing on the bones and shells with the back of a wooden spoon. She poached the fish steaks, some tiny rings and tangles of squid, picking out the mussels as they opened; she toasted bread; she warmed a Delft tureen with boiling water. She set the table, handing a cold bottle of white wine from the refrigerator and a corkscrew to him. "There's so much in this kitchen," she whispered. "Is Gigi here?" "No, not ever, I don't think. But she's got every kind of gadget. Look at this. Do you know what this is?" She held up a Bakelite-handled comb with a dozen tines. Al waited. "It's for slicing cake," she said.

Ah, there is pâté on the inside!" I see! By wrapping the exterior with thin slices of beef... ... he was able to make his presentation look like a cartoony leg of meat. "AH! HWAAAAA?!" The meat wrapped around the exterior is marinated strips of beef! Their richly fragrant scent yet light and almost fruity juices pack a knockout wallop! Directly underneath them is a layer of bacon slices! Not only do they serve to hold the pâté firmly in place... The impact of all that powerful protein in one bite reverberates through my entire body!" "By the way, for the base of my marinade... ... I used Yakiniku Sauce Even store-bought Yakiniku Sauce has a great balance of soy sauce, mirin, garlic and ginger. It makes a good, solid base for the marinade! I took that and adjusted it with some honey, grated onion and freshly squeezed orange juice so it would pair better with the pâté... before asking Nakiri to taste test it to ensure it came together properly." "The pâté in the middle is the most spectacular part of all! Full-bodied yet delicate, it matches beautifully with the aromatic layer of meat. Each bite sparks an explosion of powerful flavor in the mouth!" Using a base of chicken liver, he added chicken breast and cream along with carrots and Shimeji mushrooms. But what really stands out is the preparation of each individual ingredient! Confit. Grill. Braiser. Suer. Each piece was prepared in the way best suited to its strengths... ... teasing out its natural sweetness and ratcheting up the dish's overall goodness!

I reached for the two beefsteak tomatoes in the grocery bag. The shade of their skins bore a hint of orange, indicating the firmness of the juicy flesh within. My sharp blade sliced into the fruit: dripping, sticky, dotted with the jeweled seeds inside. I cut the flesh into tiny cubes as the scent of sunshine and vines filled the air. I transferred the tomatoes to a ceramic bowl before rinsing the board and knife clean. Using the flat side of the blade, I smashed three cloves of garlic. The fragrant aroma teased my nostrils as I rolled a fat red onion onto the board. The papery amaranthine skin crinkled under my fingertips. According to Ma-ma, the red onion contained too much chi, the reason it caused so many tears. She compared the red onion to Younger Shen- rich in color and bold in flavor. I never questioned her logic, for no other onion induced the same reaction.

Your favorite.” She had marinated the fish filets in a mixture of tequila, lime juice, and orange liqueur, with a touch of olive oil and garlic. Now, she spooned a sauce of tomato, jalapeno, onion, and brown sugar over the cooked fish.

Use herbs and spices to impart mild or bold flavors to your recipes. International cuisines each have their own characteristic set of seasonings, which add flavor without the use of salt. You can add a moderate level of heat with ingredients such as black pepper, cayenne pepper, or crushed red pepper flakes. Vinegar and citrus ingredients such as lemon, lime, and orange are also terrific flavor enhancers. I love to use raw or roasted garlic to pump up the flavor when I cook.

Sunlight glowed orange through the lacework of slender eucalyptus trees that lined the ridge to the east, and in the vegetable garden, directly across the driveway, pale purple garlic flowers swayed at the top of their stems. The sweet scent of basil reached her with the breeze and, on a whim, Mrs. Turner crossed the driveway to inspect the beds. The four square planters were set like windowpanes and divided by truncating brick paths, each box overflowing with carefully-tended strawberries, tomatoes, and spinach, as well as copious herbs. A row of bay trees lined the back wall of the garden, either side of a wooden arch trailing white wisteria flowers.

The waiter arrived with our entrées. Because we'd "ordered light," there were also only two of these. A firm whitefish with crispy skin that glistened under the light and shattered between my teeth, nestled atop a smooth, creamy carrot-ginger puree, luscious with just the right amount of butter (a lot). Roasted carrots, yellow and purple and orange but always caramelized on the outside added pops of sweetness and texture, and candied ginger was sprinkled on top, providing some spice and some chew. I was sad when it came time to move on to the second entrée, but it cheered me right up. A pasta that had clearly been made here, thick strands that were tender but with a chew to them, bathed in a sauce of coconut milk and garlic and ginger and chiles. I could've slurped this pasta down all on its own, forever, but the buttery chunks of shrimp and crunchy bits of okra scattered throughout made for most welcome diversions. Okra seeds popped with relish on my tongue.

favorite recipe is Carrie Brown’s Fig and Olive Tapenade, which she serves up at the Jimtown Store in Healdsburg, California. Her recipe uses dried figs, which means less pitting and cuts the saltiness of the tapenade. I like tapenade with pita bread points that have been brushed with spiced oil, then toasted until crisp (This Page). Ice-cold rosé or vin d’orange are lovely accompaniments, too. ½ cup (85 g) stemmed and quartered dried Black Mission figs 1 cup (250 ml) water 1 cup (170 g) black olives, rinsed and pitted 1 garlic clove,

Crisp Cumin Chicken Served with Tangy Orange and Avocado Salsa   Serves: 4 Total Cooking Time: 20 min   Ingredients for the salsa: 1 large orange, preferably seedless 1 ripe avocado, preferably firm 1 plum tomato 2 tbsp chopped cilantro   Ingredients for the chicken: Olive oil 11/4 lb (625 g) chicken 1/2 tsp (2 ml) ground cumin Salt and cayenne or black pepper to taste   Method: 1. Salsa: Peel the orange and remove its white pith.  Get rid of the membrane such that only the soft juicy part of the orange is there. Slice the avocado in half and scoop out the soft buttery flesh from the peel. Chop a tomato and remove its seeds. 2. Now mix in the orange, avocado flesh, and tomato in a medium size bowl. To this add the coarsely chopped cilantro. Toss well. Lightly drizzle with oil. Sprinkle a pinch of salt for taste. 3. Cut the chicken into 4 serving-sized pieces. Thinly coat both sides of chicken cutlets with cumin, salt, and pepper. 4. Heat oil in a frying pan and slide in the chicken pieces. Cook until the pieces are lightly golden. Flip the pieces and cook for 3-5 min per side. When the chicken pieces are nicely cooked, remove from heat. Top the chicken pieces with salsa. Best served with naans.   Nutrition information: 34 g protein,11 g fat, 9 g carbohydrates, 4 g fiber, 32 mg calcium, 84 mg sodium, 270 calories.   Back to Table of Contents The Forever Famous Classic Schnitzel   Serves: 6 Total Cooking Time: 35 min   Ingredients: 1/4 teaspoon garlic salt 1/2 cup all-purpose flour 1/4 teaspoon celery salt 1/4 teaspoon paprika 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/8 teaspoon pepper 1 slightly beaten egg 1/2 cup milk 2 to 3 tablespoons cooking oil 6  4-ounce pork sirloin cutlets about 1/2-inch in thickness

Speaking of mangoes, one delicious alternative meal is mango salsa, which you can make by chopping mangoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, celery, cilantro, and garlic (if desired) in the food processor. Serve in cucumber boats, lettuce wraps, or over greens. And in place of the avocado-orange juice salad dressing, try mashing up some guacamole, topping your salad with it, then sprinkling the whole thing with lime juice. Another great detox dish is a food-processor grind-up of apples and cauliflower or apples and cabbage.

Jasmine licked her finger and flipped through her notes: Smoked Chicken with Pureed Spiced Lentils, Hot Ham and Bacon Biscuits, Cassoulet Salad with Garlic Sausages. After three cookbooks, she was finally finding her voice. She had discovered her future lay in rustic, not structure. Oh, she had tried the nouvelle rage. Who could forget her Breast of Chicken on a Bed of Pureed Grapes, her Diced Brie and Kumquat Salsa, her Orange and Chocolate Salad with Grand Marnier Vinaigrette? But her instincts had rightly moved her closer to large portions. She hated the increasing fad of so much visible white plate. She preferred mounds of gorgeous food and puddles of sauces. Jasmine kneaded her heavy flesh and smiled. She had finally found her term. She was going to be a gastrofeminist. She would be Queen of Abundance, Empress of Excess. No apologies of appetite for her, no 'No thank you, I'm full,' no pushing away her plate with a sad but weary smile. Her dishes would fulfill the deepest, most primal urge. Beef stews enriched with chocolate and a hint of cinnamon, apple cakes dripping with Calvados and butter, pork sautéed with shallots, lots of cream, and mustard.

I make a list of my assets- caviar of aubergine, pepper salad, spiced fish, cheese pasties, potato salad with chilies, taramasalata, artichokes with oranges, broad beans with cumin, filou parcels of tuna and capers, triangular patties of meat, egg and coriander... I arrange intersections, detours, associations, improbable meetings. The exoticism will stretch from the Far East to Asia Minor. My battalions are lining up, an infantry of vegetables and a cavalry of crunchiness. I inspect my munitions between the flanks of my spice rack, curcuma and ras-el hanout standing to attention in their glass phials. Oregano, sage, poppy seeds, nigella, red berries, black peppercorns. I need mountains of garlic, pine kernels, olives, preserved lemons...

Sirine smiles back and asks what he would like to have for breakfast. He yawns and sits up, and asks almost timidly, "I don't suppose you could make some more of that frekeh?" The dish of smoked wheat kernels with olive oil and garlic. She sits still, the sunlight from the balcony skimming through the bedroom. There are bags and bags of frekeh at her uncle's house, pounds of it at the café, even the Indian market a few blocks away from Han's apartment sells it in bulk. But she takes a breath and frowns and says, "I'm not sure if I can find any more right now." She tells Han to sleep a little longer and she walks down to the Indian market by herself. But when she comes back with her groceries she doesn't have frekeh. She makes scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast. She stirs dollops of heavy cream and cheese into the eggs, letting the bacon grease soak into the egg, slicing squares of buttered toast in half, filling the glasses with orange juice. She serves this to Han while he's still in bed and he smiles and eats it and doesn't say anything more about frekeh.

Alone in the kitchen, without Zod's supervision, he found himself turning to the wholesome food of his childhood, not only for the comfort the simple compositions offered, but because it was what he knew so well as he set about preparing a homecoming feast for Zod's only son. He pulled two kilos of java beans from the freezer. Gathered last May, shucked and peeled on a quiet afternoon, they defrosted in a colander for a layered frittata his mother used to make with fistfuls of dill and sprinkled with sea salt. One flat of pale green figs and a bushel of new harvest walnuts were tied to the back of his scooter, along with two crates of pomegranates- half to squeeze for fresh morning juice and the other to split and seed for rice-and-meatball soup. Three fat chickens pecked in the yard, unaware of their destiny as he sharpened his cleaver. Tomorrow they would braise in a rich, tangy stew with sour red plums, their hearts and livers skewered and grilled, then wrapped in sheets of lavash with bouquets of tarragon and mint. Basmati rice soaked in salted water to be steamed with green garlic and mounds of finely chopped parsley and cilantro, then served with a whole roasted, eight kilo white fish stuffed with barberries, pistachios, and lime. On the farthest burner, whole bitter oranges bobbed in blossom syrup, to accompany rice pudding, next to a simmering pot of figs studded with cardamom pods for preserves.

SLOW-COOKER MOROCCAN CHICKEN with Orange Couscous Thanks to a wonderful blend of spices and dried fruit, ordinary chicken gets a Moroccan makeover in this meal-in-one dish. Don’t be put off by the long list of ingredients—this dish is simple to put together. SERVES 6 | 1 cup chicken mixture and ½ cup couscous per serving Cooking spray CHICKEN 2 medium carrots, cut crosswise into ½-inch pieces 1 medium sweet onion, such as Vidalia, Maui, or Oso Sweet, halved lengthwise, thinly sliced lengthwise, and separated into half-rings 1 large rib of celery, chopped 1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, all visible fat discarded, cut into 1½- to 2-inch cubes ⅓ cup dried plums, coarsely chopped ⅓ cup dried apricots, coarsely chopped ⅓ cup golden raisins ⅓ cup white balsamic vinegar 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour 1 cup dry white wine (regular or nonalcoholic) 3 tablespoons firmly packed light brown sugar 3 medium garlic cloves, minced 1 teaspoon ground cumin 1 teaspoon ground ginger 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon ¼ teaspoon cayenne 1 15.5-ounce can no-salt-added cannellini beans, white kidney beans, or chickpeas, rinsed and drained COUSCOUS ½ cup water ½ cup fresh orange juice 1 cup uncooked whole-wheat couscous Lightly spray a 3½- or 4-quart slow cooker with cooking spray. Put the carrots, onion, and celery in the slow cooker. Place the chicken cubes over the vegetables. Top with the dried plums, apricots, and raisins. Don’t stir. In a medium bowl, whisk together the vinegar and flour until smooth. Gradually whisk in the wine. Whisk in the remaining chicken ingredients except the beans. Pour over the chicken mixture. Don’t stir. Cook, covered, on low for 5½ to 6½ hours or on high for 2½ to 3 hours, or until the chicken and vegetables are tender. Stir in the beans. Cook, covered, for 5 to 10 minutes (on either low or high), or until the beans are heated through. While the beans are heating, in a small saucepan, bring the water and orange juice just to a boil over high heat. Remove from the heat. Stir in the couscous. Let stand, covered, for 5 minutes. Fluff with a fork. Spoon onto plates. Ladle the chicken mixture over the couscous mixture. PER SERVING calories 450 total fat 2.5 g saturated 0.5 g trans 0.0 g polyunsaturated 0.5 g monounsaturated 0.5 g cholesterol 44 mg sodium 108 mg carbohydrates 76 g fiber 11 g sugars 27 g protein 28 g calcium 99 mg potassium 833 mg dietary exchanges 3 starch 1½ fruit 1 vegetable 2½ very lean meat

Olive oil cooking spray 1½ cups panko breadcrumbs 2 teaspoons garlic powder 2 teaspoons dried oregano 2 tablespoons sweet or smoked paprika 1 teaspoon kosher salt ½ cup all-purpose flour ½ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 2 large eggs 4 to 6 boneless, skinless chicken breasts or cutlets, each about ½ inch thick (about 1½ pounds total) 1 jar (24 ounces) good-quality marinara sauce (I love Rao’s) 6 to 8 slices provolone cheese ¼ cup shredded Parmesan cheese Let’s cook: 1. Preheat oven to 400°F with a rack in the upper third. Generously mist a sheet pan with cooking spray. 2. Stir together the panko, garlic powder, oregano, paprika, and ½ teaspoon of the salt in a large bowl to combine. In another large bowl, whisk together the flour, the remaining ½ teaspoon salt, and the pepper. In a third shallow bowl, whisk together the eggs. 3. Dip each chicken cutlet first in the flour mixture, shaking off any excess, then in the eggs, and finally in the panko mixture, patting to coat thoroughly on both sides. Place the breaded chicken cutlets on the prepared pan. Mist the chicken with cooking spray to lightly coat. 4. Bake the chicken until the panko has browned and the cutlets are almost entirely cooked through (they’ll no longer feel squishy when you poke them), about 15 minutes. 5. Remove the pan from the oven. Top each chicken cutlet with about ½ cup marinara sauce (use up the jar) and the provolone and Parmesan, and return to the oven. Bake until the cheese is melted and bubbly, an additional 10 minutes. 6. Serve hot. Chicken Legs with Fennel & Orange Serves 4 I love the classic pairing of fennel and citrus.

Eden plates the shrimp stew and adds a bit of orange zest on top for a hit of refreshing citrus. The shrimp--- now a beautiful bright red amidst roasted garlic and fennel--- radiates steam. The soup itself is more of a sauce, hearty and thick and zesty. Next is the coq au vin. She's prepared a smaller batch in light of the fast serving time. It's as traditional as they come, but Eden honestly can't think of any way to make it 'her rendition.' She's added a side of white rice and places a savory chicken thigh atop of the mound, broth soaking into each individual grain. The mousse is a pain in the ass, but Eden doesn't give up. As much as she loves to eat desserts, she has a hell of a time preparing them. Eden just doesn't have the patience. Mousse itself takes forever to whip up to the right consistency, and considering the fact that she has a million other things to worry about, she can't get it quite the way she likes. She tops it off with a healthy dose of whipped cream, sprinkling bits of hard chocolate overtop to cover up the fact that it isn't the prettiest thing to look at.