A Scientific Salad

I wish there was a way to photograph smells. If there was, you'd be inhaling this; a heavenly perfume of a Moroccan-inspired spice mix that I found here. I'd always been really intimidated by spices. I never knew how to use them; I was too concerned with amounts and proper combinations to really play with them and discover for myself what I liked. I felt much safer with my trusty salt and pepper shakers. I've always been awed by culinary alchemy; how does it come to be, this delicate, invisible formation of gold from common elements?

Some things truly don't make sense when you put them on paper. Almost Husband likes aggressive rock and comic books. He loves his limited diet of meat, potatoes and ice cream, and prefers to travel the perimeters closest to home. My love of music doesn't encompass 'noise metal' and I can't seem to get into comic books. I love exploring new foods and dream constantly of travelling to faraway places. We push. We pull. And yet, all of the things we bring to this concept of 'us', including all the things that clash and conflict still manage to make something beautiful in its own right.

(And it only took me 14 years to work that out.)

The other day I bought some ground cardamom, for the first time ever. It sat on my shelf all afternoon, imbuing my kitchen with its cool, indescribable smell. I'd run across so many recipes calling for it that I figured it was time to try it. As I was putting together the spice mix, I was completely bewitched by the earthy, warm colours; all together, they looked like a patchwork landscape view you'd see from a plane that was starting to make its slow descent. I almost didn't want to stir them up and destroy the beauty. But I did, and I followed Kevin's recipe pretty much to the letter and with delight because he positively saturated his ingredients with flavour (most of the time, my indelicate palate requires a good bludgeoning of flavour to activate itself - I'm working on it.)

I roasted up a bunch of veggies that were languishing in the fridge and put on the quinoa while I waited. I only managed to set off the smoke detector once, thanks to my demonic oven, but at least this guaranteed me a pet-free kitchen, which in turn guaranteed me a clear pathway to the fridge without anyone getting hurt.
















I was starving by the time everything was ready, as I'd started cooking a bit late, but this was so worth the relatively short wait. It was exactly the sort of combustion of flavours I love; the spice was pronounced but didn't dominate the other ingredients, and I loved the sweet bursts of raisins and cranberries amidst the salty vinaigrette. And the colours! I know they harken more to fall than spring, but when something is so beautiful, who cares about seasonal propriety!



Almost Husband made appreciative noises at my bowl when I brought it into the living room, and we sat down, my Mr. Meat-N-Potatoes and me, and ate our very different meals side by side. I am not a scientific person by nature. But I know romantic alchemy when I feel it.

Moroccan Roasted Carrot And Chickpea Quinoa Salad - via Closet Cooking

3 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1/4" thick circles
1 red pepper, chopped into smallish pieces
1 small bunch of broccoli, cut into smallish pieces
1 small onion, cut into rings
3-4 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon moroccan spice blend
1/2 cup red quinoa
1/2 cup white quinoa
2 cups water (I used chicken broth)
2 teaspoons moroccan spice blend
1 cup chickpeas (drained and rinsed)
1/4 cup red onion (I skipped this)
1/4 cup raisins
1/4 cup pine nuts (I skipped this too and used dried cranberries instead)
1 handful parsley (um, I skipped this too; I can't do parsley)
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 lemon (zest and juice)
1 teaspoon moroccan spice blend salt and pepper to taste

Moroccan Spice Mix:
2 teaspoons paprika
1 teaspoon ground turmeric
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon ground ginger
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon pepper

Instructions:

1. Prepare spice mix.

2. Get oven good and hot, approximately 350-400 F. Combine the oil and spice mix and drizzle it over the chopped veggies in a roasting pan. Stir to coat all the veggies and roast till they're soft and fragrant and browned a bit.

3. While you wait for the veg to roast, rinse the quinoa to remove the bitterness and heat up the chicken broth or water. Once boiling, add the quinoa and cook at a hearty simmer till the broth/water has evaporated. Set aside and add the raisins and cranberries and rinsed chickpeas - the quinoa is still nice and hot and will soften them up!

4. Combine the 2 tbsp olive oil, 1 tsp of spice mix and the lemon juice and zest in a small jar and shake till well combined.

5. By now the veggies should be done; add them to the quinoa mixture, then add the dressing and stir till everything is coated. Salt and pepper to taste.

Sexy Salad

I've always been a lover of words. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to watch television during the week, except for Friday nights with my mom and my sister, watching Dallas and The Love Boat. This televisual deprivation led to a great affair with books, which in turn led me to writing. Writing, words, putting thoughts down, this is how I've always communicated best. The downside to my love of words, however, is that I tend to use twenty of them when twelve will do.

I seem to have the same problem with food. Despite my best efforts to cook simply, I have a tendency to overcrowd my dishes with too many flavours. I can't help myself. I grew up on simple, lightly seasoned meals, and I was an annoyingly picky eater. But now, I am so excited by food, by the sensuousness of it, by all the different spices and herbs and tastes, that I have a hard time choosing just a few at a time.

I know that when you're starting out, it's a good idea to master some simple recipes before you start improvising. But sometimes I think it's not only okay, but imperative to throw caution to the wind. How else do you learn what you like if you don't try it? And I'm pretty sure even the most accomplished of cooks sometimes get it wrong. And occasionally, these improvisations lead to the most accidentally delicious meals.

This salad, to me, is like that. I found this recipe here, on the Fine Cooking site, and as soon as I saw it, I was mentally adding chickpeas and onions. Once I'd made it and tasted it, I wanted it to have some heat, so I added a few chili flakes. I love it. I find the flavours subtle and bold, sweet and salty; the best of all worlds. I don't care that it's overcrowded. Sometimes, the best parties are.

Quinoa and Avocado Salad with Lemon-Cumin dressing

1/2 onion, chopped
1/2 can chickpeas
2 tbsp raisins
1 tbsp dried apricot, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup mixed white and red quinoa, rinsed well
salt
half a lemon, zested
2 tbsp olive oil
1/8 tsp cumin
1/8 tsp coriander
1/8 tsp paprika
pinch of chili flakes, to taste (optional)
1 ripe avocado, cut into smallish cubes
2 tbsp coarsely chopped nuts - I used walnuts

1. Heat oil in pan, then add onions. Cook till softened over medium heat, about 5-7 minutes, then add chickpeas. Cook till onions are almost translucent.
2. Soak the dried apricot and raisins in hot water for 5 minutes to soften. Drain and set aside.
3. After quinoa is rinsed, bring the quinoa, salt and 1 cup of water to boil. Cover, reduce heat to medium and simmer till cooked, about 10-15 minutes. Once ready, remove from heat, fluff with a fork and bring to room temperature - you can lay it out on a baking sheet to cool.
4. Squeeze 1 tbsp lemon juice into small bowl. Add lemon zest, then add in spices along with the olive oil and whisk till combined.
5. Once quinoa is cooled, add the nuts, avocado, dried fruit, chickpea and onion mixture and combine. Then add the dressing and season with salt and pepper to taste. You may wish to add an additional dash of lemon juice...

***I found this tasted amazing the second day; the flavours had a chance to mix and mingle. I can also see this as a filling for a grainy pita bread.