Last week, sitting beside the Ohio river and listening to the Cincinnati Reds beat the Yankees (yay) I consumed as much sea food as I could possibly fit in my stomach (then had carrot cake just to even it out in there.)

The meal was really lovely, but more than the bright and bracing flavor of the oysters, or the balance between sweet crab and garden fresh tomato, I was struck by how the meal made me think. Sipping my glass of cheap white wine, I realized that the taste was so good because I don’t drink wine much any more. And I’m not cooking the way I love to, spending hours in the kitchen just because it makes me happy. I miss inventing and making strange concoctions that sometimes work and sometimes don’t (beet terrine with herb gelatin? awful).  I am scared that in this new job, which affords me so many opportunities (restaurant exploration and work-wise)  that I might be losing a little bit of myself.

Now, this was pretty heady stuff for a glass of mediocre pinot gris (my studying oenophile self is angry that I liked it so much), but one never knows when your subconscious will decide to strike. So it’s time to get back to the kitchen, back to the bottle and back to what I love.

So here is my goal, two posts a week and cooking not just to eat, but to play, to learn and to dine.

All this said, the salmon with king crab salad and pear vinaigrette were really fantastic and deserve their time in the spot light. Enough pontificating Ellie.

Crab is a beautiful thing. Last week, I ate more crab than over the past 2 years. And I liked it. Next week i’m going to make Hearts of Palm Salad with Red Grapefruit and Dungeness Crab. Miss Erica Everage, you are responsible for my love of palm, looking forward to Dining in LA with you soon!

Back home for a weekend to show off my city, and what was I most excited to do? Well, eat of course. Starting with a Kramarczuk’s Hungarian sausage loaded with onions and sauerkraut at the Twins game on friday, every meal was a delight from my past.

From lunch at Lucia’s and wine before 3, to Sebastian Joe’s twice in one day, opulence was the word of the weekend. I rediscovered Spoonriver on a long bike ride down around the lakes and along the river. Brenda, of the beloved Cafe Brenda works wonders with the simplest ingredients sourced from around Minnesota.

We started with the Spoon Dips: Preserved Lemon Hummus and Roasted Red Pepper - Walnut Paté, accompanied by a cadre of Vegetables, Olives, and toasted Foccacia.

Here is a riff on the delicious red pepper bowl of love in the photo

Six red bell peppers
1 cup bread crumbs from a baguette or similar bread
1 cup toasted walnuts
1 tablespoon white wine vinegar
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/8 teaspoon chili powder
1/4 teaspoon sesame oil
1/4 cup olive oil

Stem, seed and quarter bell peppers.  Place on a cookie sheet under the broiler skin side within 3 or so inches of the element. Roast, with the oven door closed for about five minutes. Turn the ban 180 degrees then roast for 5 more. Peppers should be blackened and beginning to soften. If too hot to handle (as I frequently feel) place in a class bowl and cover with plastic wrap until skin easily  falls away from the flesh.

When cooled, purée roasted red peppers, bread crumbs, walnuts, vinegar, cumin, chili powder, 1/4 teaspoon salt and the sesame oil in a food processor until almost smooth. With the motor still humming away, add in the oil in one slow stream until the whole mixture is smooth.

Garnish with black sesame seeds and enjoy with market fresh veggies. The radishes were my personal favorite.

And then there was my real lunch…..I couldn’t help but feel healthy after eating this plate of perfectly cooked chicken gently swathed in a peanut sauce, cozied up next to some soba noodles. I mean really, look how great this look!

And if chicken and vegetables aren’t your thing, you can always nom on a Sunshine Farm Hamburger with house-made ketchup! (Grass fed and sustainable of course!)

Kibbeh, Baba ganoush, Ta’amiya and serious jet lag. About a week ago, I arrived back in Chicago after a truly humbling trip to Egypt.  The pyramids– they are just so old, and big and…awe-inspiring. And of course, as is my wont, I was basically adopted into a bread maker’s family, I ate strange foods and risked my stomach eating street foods in Cairo.

Although it is known more for its ——->

than its food, Egyptian cuisine is along the lines of what we think of as Middle Eastern or Mediterranean food: a lot of tahini, eggplant, falafel and lamb.  But never having spent time in a Middle Eastern country, I was pretty excited to get to the source

For me, the best part of fertile crescent dining is a tradition called Mezze (meze), or small plates that are eaten before the main meal.  Many times a half dozen mezze (hot and cold) are enough to constitute the main course.  Stuffed grape leaves with rice and lamb, pickled aubergine (delicious marinated eggplant with herbs) falafel, ful medamme and kobeba were among the favorites.

Depending which country you visit, kobeba is also known as kibbeh or kobeiba.  It is essentially a fried meatball made with ground lamb kneaded with soft bulgur and onion, and seasoned with pinches of cinnamon, cumin, and allspice. At the center of each torpedo shaped croquette hides two or three pine nuts like little treats for the eater. These were dynamite with a light baba ganoush or tahini.  For my readers in Evanston, go try the Kibbeh at Olive Mountain, $2.25 for two large pieces.

Wandering around the Islamic section of Cairo, near the tent maker’s souk, among small mosques and a few herds of sheep, the smell of ful medamme was ubiquitous.  No matter the environment– next to the sheep, or beside the fez maker’s shop, small stands with pots of the brown fava beans bubbled away wherever we walked.   Often considered commoner food, and eaten for breakfast with Egyptian bread (Aish Baladi), ful is a staple of Egyptian diets. It is made with slow cooked favas, onion, garlic and seasoned with olive oil and parsley.  Like kobeba, ful is also often served as a mezze.

Another favorite small plate was ta’amiya or the Egyptian riff on falafel. This version includes some dill as well as the more traditional parsley. It varies quite a bit from place to place, everyone has their own special version.  Sometimes it was more starchy and breadlike, heavy on the dried favas or more juicy with the delicious, deep fried crust containing a light green center. I ate ate this off the street warped in warm bread with onions and tahini as well as in restaurants with “fancy” dipping sauces.  It was definately my favorite sidewalk snack.   Though I did like the guy cooking that asked me “you know liver?” Yeah I know liver! “You know brains” Yeah I know brains!  That was a strange bit of meat that I tasted after this encounter…..still not entirely sure what I ate.

Throughout my wanderings in Egypt and Cairo in particular, I was reading Naguib Mahfouz’s novel Cairo Modern.  His vivid picture of the capital city in the 1930s gave me pause to think of the massive change that Cairo has seen: it’s population now reaches 20 million and the pyramids are surrounded by the expanding suburb of Giza, but on the other hand, bakers still fly past on their bikes during lunch time with huge pans of Aish Baladi (pita) balanced on their heads and donkeys still wander the streets but now among men in business suits. Not to mention it all started about 5000 years ago with the Nile, the Narmer Palatte and some mummies.