Savory Barley Porridge with Parmesan and Soy by Alison Roman

Jordan and I spent our first two years of marriage living in Berkeley, CA. We rented an apartment that was approximately 400 square feet, which we lovingly called “the shoebox.” It should have been a studio, but in classic Bay Area fashion, they put a wall in the middle so they could call it a one-bedroom and charge more rent. The kitchen had a small stove and oven with one rack that couldn’t fit standard-sized baking sheets. Cooking took longer with less oven space to work with, but we made do. We shared one tiny closet, had no heating or air conditioning, and still, loved living there. 

Most Saturday mornings, Jordan could be found at his desk (it took up a third of our living room) studying. These were some of my favorite mornings because I could spend them any way I liked. Sometimes I’d go to the farmer’s market, sometimes Philz Coffee, but more often than not, I walked over to Acme Bread. Acme is primarily a bakery with a constantly long line of people waiting to purchase bread, no matter the day of the week. They converted a small room off the side of the bakery into a coffee bar where you can order from a very short, locally-sourced food and drink menu. Most weekends, I ordered coffee and sweet porridge, a blend of various grains, cooked in whole milk with housemade jam and shaved almonds on top. I ate it slowly and read a book or people-watched after the many characters that came to stand in the bakery line. 

a polaroid of me at Acme Bread

Acme also served a savory porridge, but I never had the guts to try it. I just couldn’t get behind eating salty grains for breakfast. Which is why it took me eleven months to finally cook Alison’s savory porridge. Of course, I’m going to say that (surprise) it’s actually really good, and I wouldn’t mind making it again. But you knew that was coming. To me, savory porridge is the right breakfast for mornings when you don’t want to eat right away, but you have the energy and the time to stand by the stove for a while. Personally speaking, I don’t have many mornings like that, so porridge will have to be a rarer occasion. 

Alison provides us with many topping options for this porridge, most of which I followed to great contentment. While the barley and millet cooked, I assembled the toppings. I had leftover mushrooms on hand from Alison’s Chicken Soup, which I sauteed. I had an extra leaf of swiss chard from re-making Alison’s Harissa-Rubbed Pork (a true winner). I tossed in some leftover scallions and some briefly toasted buckwheat groats. I tried to poach an egg, to great failure. I salvaged the yolk, but most of the egg whites were scattered about in the water. Someday I’ll figure out how to properly poach an egg, but this day was not that day. 

Parmesan and soy sauce are what make this porridge from a flavor standpoint. I even found myself adding more soy sauce than is called for to my bowl. All in all, it was a delightful breakfast, not to mention a filling one. I felt very “Bay Area” while eating it. 

Pro tip: If porridge leftovers aren’t exactly something you want to eat, then I recommend dividing the recipe by the exact amount of people who will eat it. I.e. If you’re going to eat this by yourself, I think it’s safe to make a fourth recipe. 

195 recipes cooked, 30 to go.

Whole-Wheat Pasta with Brown-Buttered Mushrooms, Buckwheat, and Egg Yolk by Alison Roman

I don’t have a whole lot to say about this recipe. Pasta with buttery mushrooms and parmesan is a nice, mildly flavored dinner. It’s filling, pairs well with red wine, and makes for nice leftovers. Egg yolk adds a creamy element, balanced by the nutty flavor of buckwheat groats (Alison’s mark on this classic recipe). Gluten free noodles work just as well here. 

In lieu of a full essay, here’s a haiku: 

Sometimes I don’t have 

Much to say about cheesy 

Rigatoni pasta

193 recipes cooked, 32 to go.

Chicken Soup with Toasted Garlic, Mushrooms, and Celery by Alison Roman

Throughout this project, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how food can heal. Last January, I was physically in need of some serious healing. Rest helped, getting back into an exercise rhythm helped, but food saved me. 

Jordan and I had both been working jobs that left little to no bandwidth for anything beyond them. Rhythms and relationships got thrown to the curb as we flipped the “survival mode” switch to “On.” Meals mostly consisted of pre-made dinners from Trader Joes and Door Dash orders. We ate for fuel, not pleasure. 

Now, I realize that there are seasons in most peoples’ lives when survival mode is the only option. And there’s actually nothing wrong with Door Dash – we still use it today! (I also realize how privileged it is to even have access to Door Dash!) But it wasn’t until I quit my job and gained back the time and energy to cook for us that I started to heal. (You can read more about my thoughts on the importance of cooking rhythms here.)

Making things from scratch, besides the clear health benefits (isn’t it nice to know what’s actually in your food?), has brought great healing in my life. Yes, I was one of those people who started making sourdough during the pandemic. And yes, I actually do have a loaf proving in my oven as I write this. I love making my own bread. Another joy has been saving chicken bones and making bone broth. I first made Alison’s Golden Broth with Turmeric and Garlic, which is also the base for this chicken soup, on the day that I got my second CD-19 vaccine. I decided to make the broth again, and this soup, on the day I got my CD-19 booster shot. Seemed only fitting! 

The broth, bursting with complex flavor, was even better than I remembered. I made two adjustments from last time: I used turmeric root instead of ground turmeric, and used a combination of chicken carcass and turkey carcass leftover from Thanksgiving dinner. Let’s just say I’ll never throw turkey bones away again. 

After spending about four hours making the broth, I turned to the soup, starting with the toasted garlic. Toasted garlic is actually the soup’s topping, but by no means can it be missed. I let the garlic slices turn a warm, golden brown at the bottom of my Dutch oven and spooned them out as they reached peak color, being sure not to take them all out at once so the stragglers could toast, too. (Pro tip: I sprinkled the leftover garlic chips on a pizza the next day, and OH MY!)

Leaving the garlicky oil behind, I threw in two large shallots, thinly sliced into rings. They spent just a few minutes getting loosely crispy before the mushrooms joined. I really liked how the soup maintained a distinct, but subtle shallot flavor, especially with all of the other potent ingredients in this recipe. For that reason, I would strongly caution against substituting shallot for a different kind of onion, as some are wont to do. For the mushrooms, I used a combination of oyster, shiitake, maitake, and lobster, all found at Whole Foods. After roughly five minutes of releasing lots of steam, I poured in the broth and brought it to a simmer so the shallot and mushrooms could infuse the broth. 

Two days before, I made Alison’s Slow-Roasted Oregano Chicken. I saved the bones for this broth, and the leftover meat for this soup! A true Laura Ingalls Wilder moment. The chicken and celery need only a few minutes to warm through in the broth before the soup is ready for bowls. Before serving, I mixed in a half teaspoon of fish sauce, which made the broth all the richer. Alison says it’s optional, but I think it should be mandatory. 

I took Alison’s side note seriously and made brown rice noodles to go along with the soup, which made it more filling and hearty. I topped each bowl with cilantro and the toasted garlic chips. Wow, what an incredible soup. My serious compliments to the recipe creator! I recently ate at an up-and-coming ramen restaurant in Chicago called High-Five Ramen. Their broth may be the best ramen broth I’ve ever tasted. And Alison’s broth truly rivals it! It even got better with age – leftovers were a highlight these last few days. 

Three days after my booster shot, I tested positive for CD-19. Instead of driving to see family, our Christmas will be spent in quarantine. Food can’t heal everything, but I’m grateful to recover with Jordan next to me and lots of time to cook the remaining recipes for this project. 

Merry Christmas Eve! I wish anyone reading this a safe holiday, filled with wonder and good food. 

192 recipes cooked, 33 to go.

Butter Beans, Tangy Mushrooms, Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Cheese, and Margaret

This is a Margaret Winchell Appreciation Post. 

Margaret is one of the dearest friends I have ever known. She’s one of the few people I can talk on the phone with for hours and forget how long it’s been. Her phone calls are like menthol when you have a bad cold. They clear your head, open up your chest, and lead you to hope that you’ll feel better very soon. 

Margaret is brilliant. Not in a tongue and cheek way. She’s actually brilliant, especially when it comes to music, teaching, cooking, baking, musical theater, leadership, and multi-tasking. Her brilliance can sometimes intimidate others when they first meet her. But after spending time with Margaret, you realize she uses her brilliance to draw others in. 

Margaret, as I just mentioned, is a phenomenal, intuition-driven cook, with instincts so sharp, they could pierce a stale loaf of bread like a tip of a Global knife. It’s her passion for food and hospitality that turned me on to cooking as well. We became real friends after college, right at the time that I was learning to cook myself. She showed me the way. She took me under her wing and had me cook alongside her in preparation for our weekly dinners with Amy, and then usually at some point over the weekends, too. We did a lot of cooking together those days. Margaret also introduced me to New York Times Cooking, which revolutionized what I cook. 

Margaret visited me last weekend, along with her grad school pal, Evan. A most delightful duo. I went into my suburban office on Friday for work, and took the 4:57pm train home. I walked through the door to find my dearest friend Margaret already through two of Alison’s recipes, and half way through a third. This spoke volumes to me. I could almost cry. When this project felt close to impossible, far out of reach from my energy coffers, Margaret stood in the gap, and darn well filled it. 

I can claim essentially no credit for cooking these three recipes, and that’s okay. I’ll let my friend serve me in this way. I did, however, eat all three dishes, and talked to Margaret at length about their preparation. So in lieu of describing a cooking process, I’ll offer here just a few thoughts and takeaways about each one: 

Vinegar-Marinated Butter Beans: 

• Something was UP with these beans. I had on hand a can of Eden Organic Butter Beans that had not expired, and were, you know, supposedly organic. But the best word to describe the final dish is “bitter.” We mused over this conundrum. Vinegar is acidic, but it shouldn’t taste bitter. Garlic can be bitter if you leave the green tips that sometimes sprout out the tops, but Margaret didn’t do this. What we’re left with are the beans. Something must be wrong with the beans. This dish has potential if you don’t have weird beans. It even keeps leftovers for up to two weeks, which I would normally do. But alas, we tossed our bitter beans. 

Tangy-Roasted Mushrooms: 

• Mushrooms, a good variety of them, are expensive, but worth it, IMO. 

• Mushrooms don’t shrink much when you roast them. They just get silkier in texture. 

• Thinly sliced onions add some fun bits of crunch here. 

• I would serve this at many a gathering. 

Baked Pasta with Artichokes and Too Much Cheese:

• Alison absolutely nails the flavor here. Perfect balance of salty, sour (from the artichokes) and creamy (from all that cheese). Pro tip: the flavor gets a glow-up when you add a few tangy-roasted mushrooms on the side. 

• We are floored that Alison doesn’t mention any options for ready-to-bake noodles. This feels like an obvious miss for the many people who don’t want to deal with the labor of parboiling noodles before assembling the dish. We simply refused to parboil, and so put our ready-to-bake noodles straight into the casserole. The top layer of noodles sure stayed tough and became like noodle chips. Not the worst outcome, but certainly not the most optimal. 

• In our humble, yet knowledgeable opinions, we don’t love the lasagna noodle choice. We believe in using a penne or rigatoni. We want to avoid the noodle chip effect.

171, 172, 173 recipes cooked, 52 to go.

Chicken and Mushroom Skillet Pie with Greens and Tarragon by Alison Roman

What a ride this pie was. How buttery, how delicious, how messy. 

It all started with a single disc of gluten-free pie crust (yes, the King Arthur one). I prepared the dough to chill at about noon, and once again felt like this disc is the best one I’ve made yet. My pie crust skills improve every time I attempt the task. It’s been personally satisfying to watch myself improve in this way over the course of the project. Of course, there’s always a mess with pie crust. Powdery flour that escapes from the saran wrap. Bits of butter that stick to the counter when rolling it out. But this doesn’t at all compare to the mess of the pie filling. 

Alison instructs us to brown and cook bone-in, skin-on chicken breasts and thighs in a large skillet. Cue the splatters of hot oil dotting the floor, counters, stove, and occasionally, my arms. The oil flies as the skin crisps and browns. It’s really a shame though, because after it cooks, Alison has you remove the meat and discard all bones, sinews, and skin. All that crispy goodness gone. The meat, though, is tender and juicy. 

Next, in the same skillet with all the chicken fat, garlic and leeks join to become soft and vibrantly green. I then added a pound of fresh mushrooms with salt and pepper, never minding the few little mushroom bits that always flop out of the skillet when I cook mushrooms. A few of them escaped and fell next to the flames underneath the skillet – don’t ask me how. 

Once the mushrooms softened, I mixed in a pat of butter and a quarter cup of gluten-free flour, which quickly thickens up the filling mixture. The next step calls for chicken broth, and I want to mention here, in case I haven’t already said this on the blog, my newfound love for Better than Bouillon. Margaret exposed me to this brand of chicken broth flavoring in goop form, and it’s changed my pantry for the better. Instead of buying (and wasting) so many cardboard boxes of chicken broth, and also needing to find places to store said broth boxes, I now have a jar of flavoring sitting in my refrigerator door, waiting to make batches upon batches of chicken broth, right when I need them. All it takes is one teaspoon of flavoring for each boiling cup of water, stirred in to make it a nicely flavored, not too salty bit of broth. I just bought my second jar at Costco today, which will last me for many months. Everyone should buy this product! 

Before turning down the heat, I streamed in heavy cream and a tablespoon or two of creme fraiche that I had leftover from The Greatest Creamed Greens. I then tossed in the separated chicken, chopped tarragon, and kale pieces. And here’s where I mention that Alison does NOT give instructions on the size of skillet to use. Which is problematic. By the time I added all of my ingredients, my 10-inch cast iron skillet was filled to its very brim. Any sudden movements, and the mixture would spill right over the edge. If you have a 12-inch ovenproof skillet, definitely use it here. 

Feeling precarious and cautious, I still chose to top the skillet in its very full state with the rolled out pie dough and stick it in the oven to bake. Which I realize now, was a mistake, but couldn’t know it then. Alison says nothing about how full the skillet should be or how to crimp the edges of the dough around the skillet rim to secure the filling. There’s a real lack of information in the book so allow me to fill in the gaps: 

1. It would be best to let the filling come up about a fourth of an inch from the top of the skillet. That way, when you lay the dough, it sort of falls into the pie and acts as a pseudo lid. Also, when the filling starts to bubble up, you will hopefully avoid it seeping over and making a huge, smoky mess in the oven as it burns on the bottom. (Yes, this happened to me.)

2. Trim off any straggling pieces of dough that drape far down the sides of the skillet. I tried to do this, but didn’t do it enough. Within a few minutes, several pieces of dough fell from the sides and burned at the bottom of the oven. 

3. Beware that the pie crust may turn golden faster than you think, so be ready to cover it with foil if it browns too quickly. I, thankfully, thought to check this and caught mine in time. 

4. Finally, though you make sizeable slits in the dough’s surface to allow steam to escape, beware that they could close up as the butter melts and tries to seal the surface again. Be ready to reinforce the slits with a sharp knife, as necessary. 

If you’re reading between the obvious lines, you’ll see that this was clearly a chaotic cooking/baking process. I learned a lot. I also honestly enjoyed eating the fruits of my very thorough labor. This pie is delightfully tangy, salty, and filling. Perfect for a cold night with a glass of red wine. It also made fantastic leftovers. I don’t know how soon I’ll make this again – I’m exhausted just thinking about it. But I know I’ll crave it again this winter. Perhaps I’ll make a “Skillet Pie Revisited” post to report back on how my suggested adjustments work. To be determined! 

170 recipes cooked, 55 to go.