Honey Mustard with Pale Ale

I've never been a huge condiment fan. I always felt like condiments masked the flavor of a dish. To me, it implied that the food wasn't good enough to be eaten alone, which seemed plain silly.  I often have debates with people about the merits of condiments. I'll end up feeling weird about my particularity, so I'll self-consciously throw some ketchup on a burger, regretting it on the first bite.  I think it's really just the store-bought generic condiments that I tend to dislike the most.  I find them to be boring and too vinegar-y.  

Okay, enough with my condiment roast. The good news is that I've slowly warmed to certain kinds.  Dave makes a great cultured ketchup recipe (which I hope to post eventually) that I'll gladly use for dipping fries.  And I love making herby aioli from mayonnaise. Still, I held on for a long time to this idea that mustard was repugnant. 

It wasn't until I ate at Saraveza, one of my favorite Portland restaurants, that I really fell for mustard. They make a habanero variety that is sweet, incredibly spicy, and so, so good.  It pairs perfectly with the rich, slow-cooked beef pasty that I always order (and have attempted to mimic at home). 

After my revelatory meal at Saraveza, I soon decided to try my hand at some homemade mustard. I opted out of making it with habanero peppers because I already had a spicy condiment on hand - an absolutely delicious habanero barbecue sauce made by the lovely Sarah Marshall. 

Two Salads. Three Dressings.

After a surprisingly dry and incredibly beautiful October, the rain has finally settled in on Portland.  Between the constant gray and the time change, I am really feeling the post-summer blues.  It's dark and I'm wet when I get home from work and it's hard to get much done.   It's not all drudgery, though.  This time of year comes with a sterling silver lining.  As the weather cools down, we Oregonians get a second salad season.  In our garden the arugula and spinach are booming and the kale, of course, is thriving.  Dave's farm has also provided plenty of mustard greens and chard.  I miss the abundance of summer produce, but it's also kind of relieving to have the scope of garden production narrow.  It's easier to appreciate salad when we're not drowning in zucchini and tomatoes. 

One person who has never had trouble focusing on salad is my father who demands eating a large salad with every dinner.  As a cook, he perfectly embodies the philosophy of the Slow Food movement. He spends at least an hour on each salad, meticulously picking through greens to ensure only the best quality and cleanliness. We are constantly rewarded by his labor because his salads are never without.

Chile de Arbol Salsa + More

There is a Mexican restaurant a few blocks from my house called Autentica.  Rumor had it that it was a great place, so my parents and I decided to check it out when they were visiting. Everything was tasty, but there was a mysteriously delicious and spicy salsa that was especially striking.  We asked our server about it and despite her thick accent, I gleaned that it was a chile de árbol sauce.  I was determined to find a recipe. I searched through cookbooks and the internet and finally found what seemed like the same salsa. It was easy to make and tasted just like the restaurant version.

Grilled Zucchini Sandwiches with Red Pepper Aioli

I had a grilled eggplant sandwich in Palo Alto many years ago, and soon after came up with my own verson. Ever since then, it has been my absolute favorite dish to make in the summer.  I don't care if you are an omnivore, carnivore, vegetarian, or a flexitarian.  You will love this sandwich. 

Herb Aioli and Fried Egg Sandwiches

Mayonnaise.  It feels like such a dirty word.  I always feel a little embarrassed whenever I have to say it.  It's so silly because mayonnaise is essentially egg, oil, and lemon juice. What's so dirty about that? I'm not sure why there's a stigma, but I still really like mayonnaise.  I get to call this recipe "aioli," which is mayonnaise + garlic + whatever else you want to cram into it.  I use it primarily for egg sandwiches, but it would be delicious on any type of sandwich.

Gomasio

I've been sick for the past few days, which means I've been holed up in my house itching for something to do.  This afternoon, my roommate bashfully asked me if I would make some more gomasio, as the jar was almost empty. I thought it'd be a simple project for a sicky and at least I could pretend that I was somewhat productive today.

My boyfriend introduced me to gomasio about a year ago and it's still one of my favorite seasonings. It's a Japanese condiment made of toasted ground sesame seeds and salt. The proportions are about 8:1 seeds to salt, so it's a great way to reduce your salt intake. I love it sprinkled on fried eggs, stirred into freshly made miso soup, or, my absolute favorite snack, on top of toast and slices of avocado. It takes no more than 20 minutes to make and requires only two ingredients.  I use a mortar and pestle, but you could certainly use a blender or food processor.