Celery & Fennel Salad, Cantaloupe & Arugula Salad, and a Baked Potato Bar by Alison Roman

“IT’S THE FI-NAL SAL-LAAAAADS!” (And some baked potatoes!) 

The ones I waited longest to enjoy. Eating these two salads revealed two new discoveries: 1) Hard blue cheese actually isn’t so bad. 2) Black olives are the most inferior kind of olive. Those two ingredients are the sole reasons I waited so long to make these salads. They also confirmed one fact that I already knew by heart: 1) olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and pepper are all you need to dress a fantastic salad. 

I just spent the last few days celebrating a dear college friend who’s getting married soon. A small group of us drove or flew to Sawyer, Michigan where several inches of snow and a cozy cabin by Lake Michigan awaited. Weekends like these remind me just how blessed by community I am. I’ve been gifted friendships with some of the most authentic, kind, goofy, thoughtful women. Perhaps what’s most impressive about them is that they are the same kind of people in friendship as they are in the world every day, towards friends and strangers alike. We don’t see one another more than maybe once a year, which makes our time together all the richer. 

Those who flew, came in through Chicago airports, so they needed a ride to the cabin and back. We had some time to spend before their flights home, so I decided to involve them in making three of my final six recipes for a fancier-than-usual lunch. 

We gathered around my kitchen island and assumed our positions…

Megan: She owns Dining In, and thus has cooked a good number of Alison’s recipes herself. So she took charge of making Alison’s Skillet Chicken with Crushed Olives and Sumac. We’ve both made this several times in the last year because it’s that good. (It’s also the recipe used for the cover of the book). 

Molly: Standing at the corner of the counter, she expertly sliced and seeded a cantaloupe into half-inch thick rounds, then removed the outer skin. Alison says nothing about removing the rind, but we figured it’d be easier to eat that way (duh). Molly also took charge of thinly slicing the celery stalks — like a boss. 

Anne: Standing in the middle, Anne eagerly volunteered to stab the russet potatoes all over with a fork to prep them for the oven. Post-oil, she sprinkled them with salt and pepper. She helped Molly remove the cantaloupe rinds. She coarsely chopped the walnuts and pistachios. She tossed the cantaloupe and arugula together and squeezed a whole lemon all over it. She topped the bowl with the chopped black olives and a handful of chopped chives. 

Caroline: God bless her. At the far end of the counter, she oiled the potatoes by hand. After, she expertly sliced a fennel bulb into thin strips and a shallot into thin rings. She tossed the celery, fennel, lemon juice, shallot, toasted nuts, salt, pepper, and olive oil together. She crumbled the hard blue cheese on top and sprinkled the bowl with celery leaves. Anne and Molly helped with the celery leaves too. She finely chopped the black olives (I used a tiny can of pitted ones from Whole Foods.) 

Yours truly: I played quarterback -- giving each teammate instructions at regular intervals. My few tasks included toasting the nuts in a skillet (I didn’t have enough walnuts to fill half a cup so I added pistachio meats into the mix— a great call), testing each dish and adding salt and pepper to taste, and setting out the baked potato toppings - sour cream, Greek yogurt, butter, flaky salt, pepper, and chopped chives. 

This meal obviously consisted of dishes chosen by necessity. I didn’t consider a cantaloupe and black olive salad to be the first choice pairing for a baked potato bar. But much to my surprise, all four dishes felt surprisingly cohesive as a meal, with the celery and fennel salad as the strongest outlier.

Someone recently asked me what my favorite part has been about this project. My answer? The people I enjoyed the meals with. Every dish created an opportunity to invite people into my home, or bring the food to them, and commune together. Share an experience, talk about what we’re eating, the flavors we’re tasting. A chance to encourage and nourish the people I love. Yes, that is what brings me the most joy. 

221, 222, and 223 recipes cooked, 2 to go.

Spring Seafood Stew with Peas, New Potatoes, and Tarragon by Alison Roman

It’s snowing furiously outside, sheets of snow flying sideways past the buildings of Chicago. It’s New Year’s Day, 2022. It’s most certainly not Spring. And I would far prefer to be watching the Harry Potter Reunion on HBO instead of writing an essay about seafood stew, but so it goes. 

[Okay, confession. I wrote the above sentences, and then decided to close my laptop and watch part of the HP Reunion. It was a great decision. It’s now January 2.]

I was most certainly not looking forward to making this stew. To eat one kind of seafood requires some self-convincing. To eat three kinds of seafood in one dish is almost impossible for me. This recipe calls for clams (mmm), cod (meh), and smoked trout (huh). I called an “audible” (a sports term I inherited through marriage, FYI) and skipped the smoked trout. While the cod turned out alright, it was a little fishy for my taste. Ultimately, I would have been most happy with this stew if it were just the veggies and the clams. But that’s just me! 

The stew comes together in a multi-step process. First, sauteeing the vegetables - celery, shallot, potato - until soft. The recipe calls for leeks, but I somehow missed it when creating my shopping list, so I made do with what I had on hand. Then white wine and bay leaves join and simmer until partially reduced. I poured seafood stock and water into the dutch oven and brought everything to a simmer, letting the potatoes start to fall apart, about 35 minutes. I will just note here that this was my first time purchasing seafood stock, and beforehand, I was nervous. I imagined a liquid that smelled like a fish tank. Well, I was wrong. I took one whiff of the open stock carton and hardly smelled a thing. Which gave me more confidence in what I was about to consume. 

I plopped my scrubbed clams into the simmering stew, along with a cup of frozen peas. Then placed the lid on and waited for the clams to open - about 12 minutes. The final step requires laying the pieces of cod into the broth while trying not to destroy their delicate flesh. I mostly succeeded. The pot’s lid returns once more so the cod can cook through. 

To serve, I ladled the stew into each bowl, followed by a dollop of crème fraiche and a mixture of parsley, tarragon, and lemon zest. I also warmed some slices of homemade sourdough bread for dipping. Just like Alison’s Clams with Cod and Cream (a v similar recipe, by the way) I would gladly count sourdough dipped in the broth as my dinner. 

A final word about “stew” vs. “chowder.” Alison’s recipe notes say that she waffled between whether to call this recipe a stew or a chowder, but ultimately decided there’s no difference before choosing “stew.” Jordan, Margaret, and I kindly, but firmly, disagree. In the words of Margaret: “I associate chowders with corn and seafood. To me, a chowder has to be creamy, usually through the addition of dairy, but sometimes can happen through other means (like maybe pureeing some portion of the chowder?). I’ve never heard of a beef chowder, for example.” If you have further thoughts on this stew v. chowder debate, feel free to comment below. 

199 recipes cooked, 26 to go.

Spiced and Braised Short Ribs with Creamy Potatoes by Alison Roman

It’s officially snowing here in Chicago, which means it’s officially braised short rib season! Tender beef, falling apart in its own juices, with soft, vinegary golden potatoes nestled on the sides. Now that’s what I call snowy weather food! I thoroughly enjoyed cooking and eating this meal. Despite the number of steps involved, anyone can make this if they’re willing to read instructions. Oh, and you’ll need a lot of time. This one takes at least 4 hours to make (though just over 3 of those hours are inactive). 

The first 45 minutes are dedicated to the following: Searing the meat until “deeply golden on all sides.” There’s a lot of leftover fat at the end of this process (short ribs just have a lot of fat!) so be ready with an old pickle jar or something to drain the excess fat, reserving some for the potatoes. The potatoes, cut in half, spend time in the fat to get a crispy edge to them while the meat stands to the side. Once the potatoes are done, they join the meat so the onion and garlic can take their turns. The onions get a toasty brown color before an onslaught of seeds rain down on the pot: coriander, fennel, cumin, red pepper flakes, and some cinnamon. Bring on those seeds and let ‘em toast! Next, tomato paste (I’d include one more tablespoon than what’s called for next time) plop in to caramelize, followed by vinegar (this makes the potatoes taste as great as they do!), broth, and lemon. Once the liquid is back at a simmer, the meat and potatoes get tightly nestled in the pot before hopping into the oven. 

The next 2 hours and 45 minutes are spent smelling the increasingly strong and delicious scents of dinner wafting through your apartment. That’s a long time to smell a good smell! 

For the final 30 minutes, the oven temperature gets a big boost and the lid to the pot is removed so the contents can thicken up. Alison says it’ll become a “rich sauce” but mine was more like a “rich liquid.” I just didn’t have the patience to wait for it to thicken, I guess. The meat was falling off the bone, and the potatoes were impossibly soft, which is all I truly cared about. 

This dish was delicious. My only tweaks would be to add more tomato paste, and possibly more lemon (maybe squeezing out a bit of its juice) to give it a stronger acidic quality. And of course, flaky sea salt is a MUST. 

167 recipes cooked, 58 to go.

Clams and Cod in Heavy Cream with Tiny Potatoes and Celery by Alison Roman

While we’re on the subject, I have to tell you a quick anecdotal story about cod. I’ve been in the earth-shattering play, Peter Pan, twice in my life. One time I played Tiger Lilly, and the other I played Peter himself. Playing Peter was a highlight of my childhood acting career. I mean, who doesn’t want to play a character that flies, sword fights, and sings the most solos? Towards the middle of the play, there’s a scene where Peter is hiding from Captain Hook and decides to play tricks on him. He starts shouting ominous things at Hook, who doesn’t know where the voice is coming from. Terrified, he starts asking Peter, or “the voice,” what kind of creature they are. A rock? A mineral? An animal? A… cod fish? If the person playing Hook likes comedy, they’ll put a lot of emphasis on the word “cod” and the audience will chuckle. It’s a human voice, duh! You think a cod fish could talk like that? Silly Hook. 

Never before have I purchased or cooked cod fish. This being my first time asking for a cod filet at the seafood counter, I had half a mind to answer the counter worker’s question, “how can I help you?” by saying, “A….coooddd fish?” Oh the things my better judgment keeps me from doing! Thankfully, I did not startle the gal at Mariano’s or the seafood counter person at Whole Foods. Mariano’s only carries clams on occasion, but WF sells them reliably. 

I thoroughly enjoyed this clam chowder-esque dish, and in fact, enjoyed it more than regular chowder. I appreciated that the broth stays separate from the vegetables and seafood. No mushy cod or soggy potatoes to be found. Instead, the potatoes are cooking in oil, along with the celery, before any liquid joins the pan, which gives them a crispy and browned exterior. The wine and cream are added next, then the clams. Once the clams open up, the cod joins the pot last. I covered the pot and let things simmer just until the cod was cooked through, about 5 minutes. Which means it barely had time to fall apart. Somehow, eating a fishy-tasting fish is much more delightful if I can see the bite of fish on my fork, instead of scooping it in mush form with my spoon. I don’t think I’m alone in this? 

The lemon juice, red pepper flakes, and sourdough bread for dipping completed this dish. I could honestly eat a full meal of just bread soaked in the broth. It had the perfect cream to acid ratio with a subtle heat kick at the end. The clams added a salty textural contrast that complemented the broth perfectly. Next time I could do without the cod. It added a fishiness that seemed to subtract, rather than add, enjoyment. However it did add substance. So pick your poison on that one. 

162 recipes cooked, 63 to go.

Crushed Baby Potatoes with Scallion, Celery, and Lots of Dill

Ah, yes, potato salad. A heralded classic of American cuisine. And yet (and yet) I’ve never liked it. Maybe it’s the cold blocks of potato, or the heavy globs of mayonnaise. Or perhaps, it’s the typical lack of noteworthy flavor. It could be the way it sits in its tub, begging the question: how long have you been sitting there, bud? 

Enter Alison Roman. As usual, she’s decided to shake things up with a new spin on potato salad. Or dare I say, an entirely superior way to make potato salad. In this recipe, you’ll see no mayonnaise, crushed potatoes, tons of fresh herbs, and bold, distinct flavor. You may never want a different potato salad again. 

First step is to boil the potatoes. No, we’re not looking for red skinned potatoes, but rather golden ones that are no larger than a golf ball. (Sure, you can use red-skinned potatoes, but don’t. Those are more mealy and less visually appealing, IMO.) The potatoes only take 15 or so minutes to boil until they’re completely tender. Before smashing them with my palm, I let them cool almost completely, and in the meantime, prepared the rest of the ingredients. 

The bulk of the flavor comes from olive oil, #lotsofdill, lemon zest and juice, finely chopped scallions (white and green parts), and anchovies. These ingredients are combined and tossed with the boiled, crushed potatoes along with finely sliced celery stalks. Finally, the salad is topped with chopped celery leaves, parsley, and dashes of salt and pepper, for good measure. 

I made this salad at home before transporting it to my in-law’s home for dinner. The potatoes spent an extra hour in the dressing, which gave them a chance to become better acquainted with the herbs and lemon juice. This dish was a complete hit between the four of us, and I have a hard time imagining anyone who wouldn’t like it. Which means this can and should be brought instead of that store-bought tub of potato salad you normally bring to potlucks. I can guarantee you won’t have leftovers, and you’ll receive way more complements. Plus, Alison says this salad can be made up to 2 days ahead, so you have no excuses.

110 recipes cooked, 115 to go.

isn’t she lovely