Seared Steak Salad: The Art Of Eating Alone

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Sorry about the long delay between posts...I've recently begun living in sin with my boyfriend, and moving houses basically took over my whole life. We kind of moved in stages and I only had two plates, one pan, etc., for about 2 weeks, anyway, this is all totally boring and needless to say I haven't been doing much cooking. But the new kitchen is unpacked, and it's my new favourite place in the world. This is not an exaggeration.

So, we had eaten the remainder of the leftover take-out and yesterday I needed to get my cook on:  I wanted to make something salad-y but still hearty, and I was eating alone.

Ah, the often derided solo eating experience. Here's the thing with eating alone:  it always irks me when people say 'I would never bother going to any trouble just to cook for myself'. Who better to go to the trouble for? I actually make a point of going to a ton of trouble to cook for myself - I know that's due in large part to the fact that I love cooking, and not everyone does, but it's also because I think it's lame to settle for a bowl of cereal or some crappy KD (unless you've got a hankering for just that, in which case, no judgment) just because you happen to be flying solo. Step up, loners! Let's make ourselves something nice, yeah? Let's not succumb to the outdated and closed-minded view that eating HAS to be a social occasion - and man, it's so great when it is - but instead, let's admit that there's also something very private and wonderful about sitting alone with something you've taken good care to make for yourself. No chatting, no passing of salt, no distractions. Just you and your nourishment.

So, after that brief rant, we arrive at the recipe. I bought a perfect little striploin today. Because some days, my body is like 'Feed me red meat' - and I happily oblige. Oh - and another added benefit of cooking for one is you can splurge a bit on the ingredients...the steak I bought, which was a perfect serving for one, was a whopping $4. Actually, now that I think about it, that had to be wrong. Oh well.

Wood on wood: the weird thing about a butcher block
counter is you never want to chop on it. So, I guess it's all
just aesthetics. Right? 

Seared Steak with Zucchini and Parmesan

Striploin steak, enough for one
1 small zucchini, cut into chunks
Some thinly sliced red onion      (to take some of the bite out of raw red onion, I usually soak it, after slicing, in a small bowl with cold water - I have no idea the science behind it but the onion mellows out and becomes way less harsh)
A handful of halved cherry tomatoes
Parmesan shavings, as much as you want      (the easiest way to achieve 'shaved' parmesan is with a vegetable peeler)
Green leaf lettuce
1 tsp of butter, for frying
1 tsp of neutral oil, for frying

For the dressing:
Juice of half a lemon - it'll be about 1 tbsp worth
1/2 teaspoon of minced fresh rosemary     (you can also use thyme, or oregano, or any strong, woodsy type herb)
2 tbsp of olive oil
1 tsp of dijon mustard, the smooth kind
A splash of white balsamic vinegar      (I added this after I tasted the dressing and was like 'whoa, easy rosemary', and the whole thing needed a bit of a pick-up - worked like a charm)
Salt and pepper, to taste

To make the dressing, place all the ingredients in a small jar and give it a good shake. Taste, and fix it up/readjust to your taste.

Who needs company with this hot salad joining you?

Okay, here is a super important step when you're frying a steak. Take it out of the fridge at least an hour before you cook it. It needs to come to room temperature before it hits the max heat you are about to subject it to. This is kind of a crucial step - don't skip it. You'll notice the difference. Once it's rested at room temperature for a while, salt and pepper one side, aggressively. Use more than you think you should be using. It'll give it a wicked, salty and peppery crust kinda thing.

Crank your heat up to high, and add your butter and oil to a sturdy pan (ideally cast iron, but any good solid pan will do). Once your pan is nice and hot, place the steak in the pan, salt and pepper side down. Salt and pepper the other side now, and then don't touch it. Let it sear on one side for about 3-4 minutes, and then flip it over, and let it go for another 2 minutes, for rare to medium rare, longer if you like it cooked more thoroughly. Once it's had its time, take it out of the pan and let it sit and rest for about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, once you've flipped your steak that one time, you'll want to throw in your chunked up zucchini, and let it brown up a bit while the steak does its second 2-minute or so side - the zucchini will hang out a bit longer than the steak, for a total of about 5 minutes. Which is great, because the steak needs to rest while the zucchini finishes up. Once your steak is rested, slice it very thinly, against the grain. Place the sliced steak on the lettuce, along with your halved cherry tomatoes, the zucchini, the red onion you have diligently soaked in cold water, and the delightful parmesan shavings.

The whole thing will take you about 15 minutes of active cooking. You show me someone who doesn't have 15 minutes to cook themselves something nice, and I'll show you a liar.

Last step:  pour the dressing over the salad, toss it up a wee bit, and eat.  Alone and happy.

Cobb Salad: Bob Cobb's Lasting Legacy

I have no idea if this salad's supposed creator, Bob Cobb (seriously!) was trying to be rebellious when he came up with this dish, or if he just had a tendency toward fatty, luscious ingredients like bacon, avocado, and blue cheese. Was he all 'Salad? I'll show you tree-huggers a salad! I'm going to put everything that will make you fat (if not eaten in moderation) in this salad, and call it a salad, and it'll be a big middle finger to the whole salad world!'

Or maybe it came about because he truly did stumble into his kitchen in the middle of the night, after a big night out* (it was 1937, Hollywood, those parties must have been off the chain**) and throw a bunch of leftovers into a bowl, with miraculous results (this is what the internet says). Who cares though. This salad is super delicious and easy and perfect for summer. I know I've been saying things are perfect for summer a lot lately. Well maybe not with the mac and cheese. But it's always true when I say it. I never lie. About food.

Thanks, Bob Cobb.

Cobb Salad

Serves 5 or so

3 chicken breasts, boneless, skinless, poached    (see below for ingredients for poaching liquid and instructions on how to poach - poaching is wicked)

5 hard-boiled eggs, quartered

2 large avocados, sliced into thick slivers

2 large tomatoes, sliced into thick slivers      (oh man tomatoes are just hitting their stride here in Toronto - and there are few things better than a tomato that's grown nearby and actually tastes like an actual tomato, eh?)

Blue cheese, crumbled     (as I've said before, I truly feel like it's judgmental to tell you how much cheese to use - but I used about 3/4 of one of those blue triangle packages, just to give you a gauge)

Bacon, about a half pack, fried up and cut into kind of 1-inch pieces, ish

Romaine lettuce, sliced thinly, either one super big head of it, or two smaller ones

For the dressing:

Liquored-up friends digging in.

1 garlic clove, minced

3/4 cup of olive oil

3 tbsp red wine vinegar

juice of 1 lemon

2 tsp of dijon mustard

Salt and pepper to your taste

For the poaching liquid:

about 2 cups of chicken stock   (I used a bouillon cube - which I do often - I find homemade chicken stock to be quite arduous and certainly not summertime friendly)

3 bay leaves

a small palmful of whole black peppercorns

a small palmful of coriander seeds

a small palmful of celery seeds

a small palmful of salt

OR, INSTEAD OF ALL THAT:

a pan of water     (honestly, water is just fine - the other goodies I put in just added another layer of flavour but will not make or break this dish)

For the dressing, put all the ingredients in a small jar that will hold them and give them a good vigorous shake. Taste to see if it's working for you and set aside for now.

To poach the chicken, put your chicken in a pan with either the stock and ingredients or water, and bring to a boil. The liquid should cover your chicken breasts, in a single layer in your pan, by about an inch. Once it comes to a boil, turn things down to a simmer and let it go gently like that for about ten minutes. Turn off the heat after 10 or so, cover the pan, and let it sit in the hot water for another 15 minutes. It should be lovely, moist, and fully cooked through by that point. Chop the chicken into chunks and reserve it. You can do this a day in advance if you'd like. I sure did.

It would be kind of funny to serve a cobb salad just like this.

Now, this is all about assembly. A good, big platter is essential, as this is family-style and really pretty and impressive to bring out to some liquored-up pals waiting at your picnic table (oh, is that just at my place?).  Everything gets distributed on top of the shredded lettuce, and don't forget the blue cheese as I almost did.  Drizzle it all with the dressing and let people help themselves.

You can make every component of this dish well in advance and then simply arrange it on the platter when you're ready for dinner. Wait until the last minute to slice the avocados though, as they'll brown quickly.

*I added in the 'big night out' part, to make Bob Cobb sound like more a wild man. This detail is unconfirmed.

**There were no 'off the chain' parties in the '30's, it was the Depression, okay? But if there were, Bob Cobb would have totally been invited.

Orzo Salad: Mildly Greek, Strongly Delicious

I'm not a huge fan of pasta salad. And I'm about to say something even more controversial here:  I'm not a huge fan of pasta, period. I know, that's crazy talk to a lot of people. But here's the thing - I always want more sauce, or more of what's on the pasta, than I want the pasta itself. Same with pizza. More toppings, less dough. Mind you, I've never made pasta from scratch, which I know makes a huge difference, and I have had some pretty ridiculously tasty pasta dishes in restaurants (I'm thinking of a major splurge at a place on College, involving gnocchi and lobster and probably 1.5 pounds of butter.  Now that.  That I would eat again). Also, I wasn't born in Italy, so maybe I just don't get it. Shocking, I know, what with all the freckles and fair skin.

Having said all that, I have a bit of a thing for orzo, the little rice-shaped beads of pasta. Orzo is cute-looking, cooks in no time, and really works well with others. And it makes for a really delicious, fresh salad when paired with some roasted vegetables, feta and olives.

I forgot to add the fresh basil prior to consumption. So sue me.

Do not leave me alone with this pan of vegetables.

As an aside, I eat roasted vegetables like candy. Not to be all holier than thou, because I also eat actual candy like candy (and potato chips? Shut the door), but I seriously can knock back vegetables, especially those that are a touch caramelized, and salted and peppered assertively, like it's going out of style.

Orzo Salad with Feta and Olives

A panful of roasted vegetables - I chopped up (in big chunks) half a big zucchini, a yellow pepper, a handful of mushrooms, and some green onions cut in 2-inch or so lengths     (you could also use eggplant, any other kind of pepper, red or white onion, any kind of squash, tomatoes - roasted tomatoes are crazy delicious, asparagus, the list goes on)
olive oil and salt and pepper to coat vegetables
1 cup of shelled, cooked edamame beans
1 cup of orzo
1/2 cup of crumbled feta
a handful of pitted black olives, chopped up a bit, optional
1/2 can of chopped artichoke hearts
1 tbsp of olive oil
2 tsp or so of white balsamic vinegar (or apple cider, or regular balsamic)
juice of half a lemon
Salt and pepper to taste

Plop your chopped vegetables onto a sheet pan, and toss with a bit of olive oil and salt and pepper. The best instrument for this is your very clean hands. Put the oiled, salted and peppered pan of veg in a 350 degree oven for about 20 minutes or so, shaking them up once or twice during cooking.

In the meantime, briefly cook your shelled edamame beans in boiling water. Drain and reserve. Use the same pot and put your water on to cook the orzo. Once it's come to a rolling boil, put a good whack of salt in the water. The water should taste salty. This is your one chance to actually season the pasta itself, so don't miss out on this fantastic opportunity. Cook the orzo for about 8 to 10 minutes, tasting as you go. Once it's ready, strain it and place in a big bowl, and add the edamame.

The edamame aspect is definitely the least Greek thing
happening here.

Once the vegetables are ready, place them in the same bowl as the orzo and edamame. Throw in the pitted, roughly chopped olives, the feta, and the artichoke hearts. Taste it at this point. It might be olive oil-y enough for you, in which case feel no obligation to add more, but do what you feel. Add your vinegar as well, and add salt and pepper to your taste. Squeeze your lemon juice over the whole shebang, and mix it up well. Serve with fresh basil on top.

Makes about 4 servings. This salad keeps really well and is a perfect lunchable.

Nicoise Salad: Get Your Ahi On.

This is a true showstopper of a meal, perfect for a summer evening. There are two keys to this meal, that cannot be compromised.  The first is the ahi tuna, also referred to as sushi-grade. Meaning it's the good stuff. You can buy it from the fishmonger (and the guy who sold me this fish was so adorably earnest and sooooo into fish it almost made me emotional) and eat it right out of your hands, raw as anything, if you wish. But that creates kind of a grotesque image. My point is you can't cheap out here, if you want to do something a bit fantastic. Having said that, this salad will totally work with a good quality canned tuna, preferably the kind packed in olive oil...it just won't be as good as with the fresh stuff. It'll be something different.

The second key to success in this endeavour is you need to get yourself a really big, shallow platter. It's truly a beautiful salad, and you need something nice to serve it on. I purchased my big blue platter at a specialty store near my house, called Dollarama. It was a dollar. It's plastic. But it's perfect for this. Have you ever been to the Dollarama at Queen and O'hara, in Parkdale? It kicks ass. It's pretty much where all my dishes are from. No joke.

Salad ingredients, getting ready for their big debut.

The big debut.

Okay, so there's a bit of a splurge on the tuna. But you won't actually need that much, because you slice the tuna quite thin and you can stretch it. Plus, there is a lot going on in this salad, including other substantial ingredients like potatoes and hard-boiled eggs. I used just over a pound of tuna for 3 people, and I had another full serving (at least) left over. So a pound for four people will be perfect, certainly.

Instead of using anchovies directly in the salad, I put a significant hit of anchovy paste in the dressing. If you have good anchovies by all means use them. I just wasn't sure if all my dinner guests would be down, so I snuck in that flavour via the dressing.
The other most excellent part of this dish, besides its killer flavour, is you can make all of the components ahead of time, so all you have to do once guests arrive is sear the tuna, which takes about five minutes, max.

Nicoise Salad

1 pound of ahi tuna
1 tbsp of oil, for frying tuna     (don't use olive oil for this, stick with canola, or soya, or even peanut would probably be a good option)
1 pound of small new potatoes, or cut up large new potatoes, red or white
4 hard-boiled eggs, sliced into quarters       (I hard-boil my eggs in the following fashion:  place eggs in cold water, turn the heat up to max, let them boil at full throttle for a minute or two, and then take them off the heat - leave them in that water, with a lid on the pot, for about 20 minutes - presto, perfect hard-boiled eggs with little fuss and no gross grey ring around the yolk that you get when you boil them too long)
2 tomatoes, cut into wedges
2 handfuls of snap peas, or asparagus, or green beans, cooked briefly      (cook them for only a couple of minutes, and then pull them off the heat and either run cold water over them or place them in an ice bath to stop the cooking and preserve the vibrant green colour)
2 handfuls of olives of your choosing - black are more traditional, but who cares, use what kind you like
Arugula to lay everything on top of, and also to eat
Salt and pepper to taste

For the dressing:
juice of 1 lemon     (don't be weird and use the lemon juice from a bottle - just...don't)
1 tsp of dijon mustard
2 tbsp of chives, snipped or minced finely     (measuring chives seems ridiculous, just put a good palmful in there)
1-2 tbsp of anchovy paste     (this is an awesome ingredient, and provides body and a certain salty je ne sais quoi - oy - to dressings, don't be afraid to use a fairly heavy hand with it - I promise you it will not taste fishy in any way)
4-5 tbsp of olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

To assemble the salad, lay the arugula down on your platter. As you can see from the photo, I tried to get a bit creative in the presentation, and I think, frankly, I did a pretty great job. I just sort of went around the perimeter of the platter and placed half of each ingredient across the platter from each other, saving the middle for the tuna, who should not share centre stage.

To sear the tuna, take it out of the fridge about 15 minutes before go time, to let it warm up a bit. A cast iron pan is ideal for this but not necessary. Heat up the oil on max heat, and wait until the oil is hot hot hot before you put that tuna in there. The point is to get a really nice sear, and you can't do that if you jump the gun and put the tuna in a medium-hot pan. Salt and pepper both sides of your tuna. Once it's in the pan, leave it be for about three minutes or so. I think an overcooked piece of tuna is a heinous thing, so really watch your timing here. Flip her over, and leave it for another two minutes, max. Take it off the heat, wait a few minutes, and slice her up thinly. It should be bright pink and basically raw in the middle, with a nice sear on both sides.

To make the dressing, put all the ingredients in a small jar and shake it up. Then, and this is an important, often ignored step, taste it. It's really quite amazing what you can learn if you just taste things! Add more lemon if it needs brightening, more anchovy paste if you want the flavour to be deeper, more oil if it needs to loosen up a bit.

Lay your tuna on the arugula in the middle of the platter, and pour the dressing over the tuna and all of the other ingredients. Provide a pair of tongs, and let the guests serve themselves. This is really a stunner, and so low-maintenance if you have some peeps over.

Seriously, how hot does that tuna look.