Jicamuffins

In my kitchen, there are generally two types of recipes that come to made and eaten. The first are the planned, schemed, dreamed, or otherwise formulated recipes that I make after lots of thinking about ingredients and flavors. They are the ones that start with a simple idea or combination (pistachio and coconut? beets and curry? tahini and lemon?) and then finally come to fruition after lots of thinking, mental tweaking, and, generally, a trip to the grocery store.

And then there are the by-the-seat-of-your-pants recipes - the ones that just sort of happen, depending on my mood or the time of day or the slightly past their prime specimens in the refrigerator that need to get used up sooner rather than later. No, I don't dream about the happy marriage of things like cabbage and goat cheese, but sometimes the whims of my pantry demand a little open-mindedness.

Today's recipe is of the latter variety; something born out of a combination of necessity and curiosity. The starring ingredients? Jicama, cottage cheese, and Chinese 5-spice powder. Just like mom used to make, right?


Well, though they may not sound like a winning trio, they sure got the job done with these quick and lovely mini-muffins: jicamuffins, if you'll indulge my weakness for cloyingly cute recipe titles.

So how did they come to be? It started with the farmers market. Here in cold and dreary Boston (It's rainy day #14 and I'm about to build myself an ark), the farmers market doesn't get started until May, and even then, it's slim pickings. When I went during those first couple of weeks, all I could find were a few greens and an army of seedlings, which don't really have a place in my balcony-free apartment.

But I've resumed my semi-weekly trips recently, and it seems that in a matter of mere days, the farmers market has exploded into summer and is bursting with all sorts of good things to eat. Which is all to say that, when I used only half of that bulb of jicama a week ago, I wasn't expecting it to get fully eclipsed by so much delicious, fresh produce. But it did, and there I was, with an unloved, half-eaten, slightly desiccated chunk of the stuff in my refrigerator.


And then there's the cottage cheese. Fat-free cottage cheese, no less, which seemed like a fine and proteinacious idea when I was at the store, but ultimately, was not. It's that kind of fat-free stuff that has a weird texture to over-compensate for its leanness and that really has no place in my fridge when for about 2 calories more I could just eat a perfectly reasonable 1% version. Without the sliminess.

Finally, there's my 5-spice powder, the product of a recent buying spree at one of my favorite online retailers, Penzey's Spices. Every time I go, usually just to stock up on cinnamon or Telicherry peppercorns or some other necessity, I find something new. And this time, it was 5-spice powder. I had seen it used before and it seemed like something I would love, and I was so excited when it arrived a week or so ago. However, I hadn't yet found the time to use it, and I was getting anxious, so jicama and cottage cheese seemed as good complements as any, and before I knew it, there I was, mixing up a batch of jicama, cottage cheese, and 5-spice mini-muffins.

The verdict? Well, I am in love with the 5-spice powder, that much is obvious. The subtle hit of anise, mixed with warm spices and, my favorite, ginger, is really wonderful. And the muffins? Surprisingly enough, they were a hit, too. Even Jonathan sang his praises, despite the relative healthiness of this recipe and the chunks of chopped, crystallized ginger that I couldn't help but add to the batter.

It turns out that jicama, when grated and added to baked goods, lends an apple-y sweetness and plenty of moisture, almost like carrot or zucchini in their respective baking applications. And the ginger, of course, is perfect with the flavor of the 5-spice. It also serves to add a little extra sweetness to these generally not-too-sweet muffins. While I found the mini size to be perfect for these muffins, I've received several (OK, one) request to make them standard size in the future. That must be a good sign, right?

As always, a couple of notes: I grated the jicama for these muffins using the large holes of a box grater. Once grated, I gave the jicama a good, hard squeeze to get rid of extra water. I then fluffed with a fork and measured. I decided to weigh the jicama, because when it comes to volume of grated, squeezed, fluffed jicama, my 2 cups could be somebody else's quart, or teaspoon, for that matter. So, 200 grams of squeezed jicama it is. But if you have to use volume, shoot for about 2 cups. Or a big ole' bunch, or a small-sized bulb's worth...you get the idea.


When mixing up the batter for these, you'll see that it is at first very dry. This is because the jicama has lots of moisture, and a wet batter will results in overly chewy, gummy muffins. And I like my muffins a tad on the crumbly side. So, just keep stirring and smooshing until the batter is uniform and moist. It should be a bit stiff, but definitely still muffin batter-y. If it is truly too dry, add a splash or two of milk to moisten things up.

Finally, I used cottage cheese for the afore-mentioned reasons, which necessitates a spin in the food processor (to get rid of the chunks). Although I haven't tried it, using yogurt, sour cream, mascarpone, or some other soft dairy product would probably be fine, too. I'll leave it to you, and to whatever your fridge happens to be demanding of you at the moment. Enjoy!

Jicamuffins (makes 24 mini-muffins)

1 1/2 c. whole wheat pastry flour
2 tbs. turbinado sugar
1 1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. Chinese 5-spice powder
1 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. cinnamon
pinch ground nutmeg
200 grams grated, squeezed jicama (about 2 c.)
1/4 c. chopped crystallized ginger
1/2 c. cottage cheese
1 egg
2 tbs. olive oil
1/4 c. applesauce
1 tbs. agave nectar or honey

Directions:

Mix flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and spices in a mixing bowl, and set aside. In the bowl of a food processor, combine the cottage cheese, applesauce, agave, oil, and egg. Blend until smooth, and set aside. Grate a large chunk of jicama using a box grater, and thoroughly squeeze to remove excess water. Once squeezed, weigh jicama using a kitchen scale - you should have 200 grams, or about 2 cups' worth of squeezed, fluffed jicama. Add wet ingredients, jicama, and ginger to the flour mixture and stir to combine. The batter will seem very dry at first, but continue mixing; the jicama will still have plenty of moisture to release to create a stiff muffin batter. Drop heaping tablespoons of batter into mini-muffin tins, filling to the top. Bake at 375 degrees for about 18 minutes, until golden brown and firm to the touch.

And While I'm at it...

In the spirit of using this generally recipe-rich space to announce things like guest blog posts and the like, I thought I'd also mention that I'm (finally) on Twitter.

It took a while for me to warm up to the idea, but now I'm tweeting away, like a whole-grain-loving, vegetable-consuming, bread-baking songbird.

Follow me here: @MiaRoseM

Tweet you later!

Being the Guest, for a Change

Anyone who knows me well knows that I love to play host. It's a rare weekend indeed when I'm not hosting at least one dinner, dessert, or brunch. I figure that if I don't host a get-together every so often, I won't have anyone to eat all of the culinary creations and experiments that come from my kitchen. And the quality time spent with family and friends is pretty great, too.

But today, I'm the guest (of sorts). Not quite a dinner guest, but something even better: a guest blogger!

If you like what you see in the picture above, head on over to the Oldways Table Blog, the official blog of one of my favorite organizations: Oldways. Oldways is a food think tank that creates and sponsors nutrition and public health initiatives. They are responsible for the Whole Grains Council, something near and dear to my heart, along with other interesting projects, such as the Latino Nutrition Coalition.

All of which is to say that I think they do great work, and jumped at the chance to be their guest for once, if only on a blog (and if only in such a way that I was still responsible for the cooking...). My post at the Oldways Table deals with the sticky and divisive subject of what to make for a workday lunch.

What did I make? I'll give you a hint: it's probably pretty obvious from the picture above. But if you want all of the juicy details, you'll just have to go on over to Oldways to check it out.

I Spent a Week in San Francisco...

And all I brought back were two bags of Rancho Gordo beans, some chili powder, and a dog-eared (but still precious) Madhur Jaffrey cookbook.

Yes, it's true, Jonathan and I took yet another trip to San Francisco, the city that foodie dreams are made of. And although I only brought back a small smattering of the city's good things to eat, rest assured that while I was there, I did my fair share of sampling and seeking. I savored my favorite Slanted Door salad on two separate occasions, devoured my mandatory loaf of Acme cranberry-walnut, witnessed the making of (and then taste-tested) fresh Cowgirl Creamery cheese, and stopped by the Bi-Rite Creamery for the yummiest, zingiest ginger ice cream imaginable.


Oh, and I also languished in the Sonoma dusk just long enough to enjoy a splendid meal at Estate, and shared my first-ever Zuni roast chicken, preceded by a subtle mint-black lentil soup.

So yes, my fair share indeed. I wish I had some lovely, candid, mouth-full photos to share with you as a San Francisco souvenir, but sometimes eating just has to be about the eating and enjoying, you know what I mean?


But, in addition to my Rancho Gordos, I did bring back a little something to share with you all. Less tangible or crumb-y than, say, an Acme boule, but still worthwhile. On my Saturday jaunt at the Ferry Building farmers market, I sampled one of my favorite non-homemade granolas: Galaxy Granola. They were offering tastes of a new product, little granola clusters (intended for snacking), that were studded with grains of quinoa.

Now, I love quinoa, but I was skeptical. Quinoa granola seemed a bit, well, crunchy. Too crunchy. Like break-your-teeth-from-eating-raw-quinoa crunchy. But I was amazed at how pleasantly-textured this granola was. Crunchy, but in a good way, and with that subtle taste of quinoa, to boot.

All of which is to say that my souvenir is merely the idea - encouragement, even - to add some quinoa to your next batch of homemade granola. Once home - happy to be back, but rather hungry - I gave the quinoa granola thing a try.

I've been tweaking a new granola flavor combination recently, so it seemed fitting to add quinoa to the recipe. This granola takes its inspiration from another breakfast favorite: buttermilk pancakes. Blueberry-buttermilk pancakes, to be precise. With maple syrup.


Now, the ingredients for this granola are a bit out of the ordinary, but really not that hard to come by. The space-ageish freeze-dried blueberries are from Trader Joe's, and buttermilk powder is widely available. And because I am in love with malted barley, I had to add some of that, too. If you can't find it, try brown rice syrup or extra maple syrup. The other ingredients are standards in my pantry, but other nuts/seeds can be substituted.

Pulverized freeze-dried blueberries = blueberry powder

For me, the blueberry powder (which is made by crushing freeze-dried blueberries with a rolling pin) is the best part of this recipe. The granola is surprisingly blueberry-y, and berries are a nice and nutritious way to add some sweetness. And the buttermilk? Yum. Now, I won't say that the quinoa makes a marked difference in the flavor of the granola, but it's a nice textural element, and besides, it's quinoa! What's not to love? Not that I'm keeping track, but this recipe is also chock-full of nutritious stuff: oats, flax, berries, quinoa, pumpkin seeds...


As always, this recipe is only minimally sweetened, so add more maple syrup if you like a sweeter granola.

The gift of granola: what better way to celebrate the world's premier hippie/foodie/earthy-crunchy city? Enjoy!

Why cry over spilled milk when you have fresh granola?

Blueberry Buttermilk Granola (your pancakes will be jealous!)

1 1/2 c. rolled oats (not quick or instant)
1 c. puffed brown rice cereal
1/4 - 1/3 c. sliced almonds and/or pumpkin seeds
3 tbs. quinoa, uncooked
2 tbs. each flaxseed meal and wheat germ (or oat bran)
2 tsp. dried buttermilk powder
generous 1/4 c. freeze-dried blueberries
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. ground ginger
1/2 tsp. sea salt
1/4 c. egg whites (I use pasteurized)
1 tbs. barley malt syrup
1-3 tbs. maple syrup
1 tbs. almond or peanut butter
1 tsp. vanilla extract

Directions:

Line a baking sheet with foil, and preheat the oven to 325 F. Mix together oats, pumpkin seeds, nuts, and quinoa, and spread evenly on baking sheet. Toast in the oven for about 10 min., until nuts and pumpkin seeds are just starting to turn golden. Meanwhile, make the blueberry powder. Place freeze-dried berries in a zip-top bag, and use a rolling pin to crush them into a fine powder. In a large bowl, mix together remaining dry ingredients, buttermilk powder, spices, salt, and blueberry powder. Remove oat mixture from oven and incorporate into dry ingredients. In a small bowl, whisk together egg white, sweeteners, nut butter, and vanilla extract. Pour wet mixture into dry ingredients and use a rubber spatula to mix thoroughly, but carefully. All dry ingredients should be evenly coated with wet mixture. Lightly oil the foil-lined baking sheet, and pour granola mixture onto it. Spread evenly and bake in the 325 F oven for about 15 min. After 15 min., check and stir granola, and then continue baking until just crisp and starting to brown slightly, stirring and checking every 5-8 min. (be careful, granola can burn very quickly!). Baking time should be about 25 min., total. Allow to cool fully, then store in an air-tight container in the freezer.

Why I Hate Peanut Butter Cups

So, here's the thing: I hate peanut butter cups.

When I was of trick-or-treating age oh so long ago, Reese's peanut butter cups were all the rage. They were the coveted morsels in many a re-purposed pillow case; sometimes saved for a rainy day, sometimes eaten all at once in defiance of the gods of belly-aches and sugar comas.

And they've never really lost their charm, it seems, since most people that I know still love a good Reese's every once in a while. In fact, chocolate and peanut butter in any application is always a winning flavor combination. In foodie magazines, on blogs, and in cookbooks, there is always a populist dessert or two that features chocolate and peanut butter, and, though not always the most sophisticated or refined, those particular treats seem to be the most popular.


But really, I'm not such a big fan of peanut butter. I've always felt that peanut butter cups were overrated, and I don't think I've ever made a chocolate and peanut butter dessert. Ever. It's just so over-done, unoriginal, and frankly, not that appealing. Although I wouldn't necessarily turn down a Reese's way back when, they were never my favorite kind of Halloween loot. I'd take a Milky Way, or even Skittles (as much as I hate to admit it now) over a Reese's any day.


There came a point last week though, when I really felt the urge to make a batch of homemade peanut butter cups. Without going into the details, I'll say that peanut butter cups have been a recurring aspect of my work life recently, and the team of people with which I work is quite enthusiastic about them. I'd seen a few bloggers' renditions of them over the past few weeks, and I have to say that I was intrigued. Not that I actually thought I would like them, but they looked like a fun project, and I knew I'd have an enthusiastic audience to reap the fruits of my labor.

So, for a work event last week, I melted a whole bunch of chocolate, got my hands on some of the freshly-ground peanut butter at my little Whole Foods, and had my canister of flaky sea salt at the ready. I carefully lined my mini-muffin liners with a layer of chocolate and let them hang out in the refrigerator to harden. I made a thick, almost dough-like paste with the peanut butter, some salt, and confectioner's sugar, and then patted a ball of it into the base of each chocolate shell. And finally, I covered them all with a generous layer of more melted chocolate, and an extra sprinkle of sea salt.


They looked surprisingly like the Reese's variety, with a bit more chocolate. The taste, however, was much richer, much peanuttier, and much more, well, homemade. Which I suppose is to be expected. Not that I liked them or anything. Because really, I hate peanut butter cups. I do, I swear! My team, however, was smitten with them, and did a fantastic job of polishing off the batch that I made.

Even though I really don't like peanut butter cups, these are a pretty perfect treat to make for a crowd. They are simple, but immensely satisfying - eating just one (not that I even wanted to eat any of them) is surely enough to satisfy a sweet tooth, if not an appetite. And with the fresh peanut butter and sprinkled salt, they are intensely flavorful. They do take a bit of time to prepare, what with the chilling and the filling and the pressing, but they certainly aren't challenging, and they are sure to impress.


Of course, these peanut butter cups, to me at least, are pretty wretched-tasting. Which is why I didn't eat any of them and will never make them again. But, if you have friends who are crazy about peanut butter and chocolate, you might want to make these. And if you have to taste a few, just to prove to yourself that you do in fact hate peanut butter cups, that's OK, too. I promise, you won't like them. I know I didn't. And trust me, I tasted plenty of them.


(By the way, I loosely followed this recipe, decreasing the amount of powdered sugar a bit. I also chose to chill and mold the peanut butter filling, instead of heating it to fill the cups.)

Pasta + Salad

On May 5th, a certain apartment-mate of mine celebrated his birthday. Now, we aren't really the type to do big blow-out birthday celebrations, but we are the type to use birthdays as an excuse to spend a little more time in the kitchen, and to eat a few things that might not ordinarily work their way into our weekly rotation.

We considered going out to a nice restaurant on Jonathan's birthday, but in the end it was quite rainy and yucky and we felt like staying in. Instead, I made something I've never made before: real, Italian, saucy, juicy meatballs. I bought ground pork (for the first time, ever) and ground beef (if not for the first time, then for the first time in quite a while), and went to town with some fresh breadcrumbs, garlic, herbs, and tomatoes. And olive oil. Let us not forget the olive oil. I'm pleased to report that they were a hit. A heavy, don't-eat-more-than-2-at-a-time kind of hit, but a hit all the same.

And for dessert? Well, what's lighter than homemade ice cream to round out a heavy meal? I made mint chocolate chip, which, I must admit, is a flavor that I've always hated. It's not the mint so much as the chocolate chips that have always bothered me; I like chocolate, but big chunks of frozen chocolate in my ice cream is quite unappealing. My version, instead of big chunks, had lovely, delicate shavings of Scharffen Berger (70%, no less), and was completely out of this world. Instead of mint extract (any store-bought ice cream and most ice cream parlors use extract), I used only fresh mint leaves, which steeped in the cream and left a soft, herbal flavor to the ice cream instead of the sharp and assertive one that you get with most mint chocolate chips.

Oh, and then there was the dense chocolate whiskey cake that came later in the week, which laced the steam in the oven so aggressively with booze that I practically got sloshed just by reaching in and taking it out of the oven. But surely you wouldn't want to hear about that, would you? (Or, check here for the recipe).

But I'm not posting today to tantalize you with last week's birthday treats, I swear. What I'm here to tell you about isn't chocolate or cream or ground pork, but salad. Yes, salad. (If you're a bit disappointed, just wait until my next post, which is full of fat and sugar. I promise.)

But back to the salad. My salad today is really much more than a salad, because it was built not around vegetables, but around pasta. So, I suppose it's a pasta salad. But really, it is not a regular "pasta salad," which is often just a sorry mush of macaroni drowned in mayonnaise, with maybe a stalk of celery or a rib of red pepper thrown in to remind the eater that "yes, this is indeed supposed to be food."

The idea for a salad, with pasta, was born on Saturday afternoon, right before I was to head to Cambridge for Jonathan's birthday party/cookout with a few friends (several of whom had birthdays last week, meaning it was quite the event!). I always volunteer to bring food to these cookouts, not only because I love bringing food, but also because the menu is usually geared toward those who enjoy meat quite a bit more than I do. If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly a hot dogs and hamburgers kind of gal. And, while I usually manage to scrape by on what I've brought (usually a salad, or some other vegetable dish), it's not quite a meal.

I was prepared this time around, and planned to make both a pasta dish and a salad. However, I was heading to Cambridge by myself, on the bus, and didn't really want to fuss with so many separate dishes (I also had to carry that boozy cake, remember). And thus my Greek pasta salad was born. Essentially, I made a Greek salad, complete with crunchy-fresh vegetables, fresh herbs, and a lemony zing, and added some cooked, olive-oil-slicked, whole wheat pasta shells to the mix. Fat (cheese, olive oil), protein (chickpeas, pasta), starch (pasta), and vegetables sing harmoniously in this easy dish, which also happens to be perfect for a cookout spread. It serves as a much-needed salad for the burger-eaters, and a welcome, filling respite for everyone else.


A few notes on the recipe: this dish is yummy and great for a regular old warm-weather dinner, in which case you don't need to do anything special to prepare it: make the pasta, chop the vegetables, dress generously, and toss everything together, perhaps over some baby greens.

To bring this dish to a barbecue, it's best to keep the elements (pasta, chopped vegetables, greens) separate until just before serving, to prevent general sogginess. If the pasta sits for too long in the vegetable mixture (which contains a fair amount of liquid), it can lost its al dente bite. So, here is what I suggest: make the pasta, and rinse with cold water until cool. Drizzle with some olive oil (only when cool; if hot, the pasta will tend to absorb the oil and clump a bit), and store in the fridge in a sealed zip-top bag. Chop the vegetables and dump directly into a portable food-storage container (with tight lid). Dress the vegetables, cover, and store in the fridge. Keep greens in a plastic bag, separate from other elements. Bring the whole ensemble to your barbecue, and just before everyone digs in, mix everything together in a big salad bowl.

And a few other things: The key to flavorful pasta is very generously salted pasta water. Don't be shy! Use sea salt, and add lots. Like, a couple tablespoons lots. Trust me. I prefer shells for this dish, because they are roughly the same size as the chopped vegetables. Farfalle would also be good, but I can never find a whole wheat variety. Although I suggest parsley and mint to flavor the salad, other herbs (oregano, basil, maybe dill) could be used as well. Roasted red peppers and/or kalamata olives would also be good additions, though I didn't have any on hand. Oh, and although I forgot to add the feta before photographing this dish, it was delicious. Yum!

Cookout-friendly Salad with Pasta (makes a whole bunch; can be halved)

1 lb. whole wheat pasta shells
1 can chickpeas, drained
6 small or 3 large carrots, peeled and sliced on the bias
3-4 green onions, sliced thinly
1 English cucumber, diced
~1 c. halved grape tomatoes
1 small block feta cheese, diced or crumbled
1 large handful fresh herbs, minced (I used mint and parsley)
1 tsp. dried oregano (use fresh if you have it)
2 tbs. mustard
1-2 tsp. honey
juice of 2 lemons
generous splash of sherry or white wine vinegar
plentiful olive oil
salt and pepper, to taste
baby salad greens, for serving

Directions:

Boil pasta in generously salted water until al dente. Drain and rinse immediately in cold water until cool to the touch. When fully cool, drizzle with olive oil and set aside in the refrigerator. In a large bowl or container, combine chopped carrots, cucumber, tomatoes, green onions, chickpeas, and herbs. Prepare dressing: mix mustard, honey, lemon juice, vinegar and a couple tablespoons of olive oil. Pour over chopped vegetables and stir to combine. Add cheese. Taste and season with salt and pepper. Add more vinegar or lemon juice if necessary. When ready to serve, combine pasta with chopped vegetables and stir to combine. Drizzle with a bit more olive oil, if desired. Serve over salad greens.

Here to Stay

I have to confess that the past couple of weeks haven't been the tastiest. On Friday, Jonathan and I moved to a new apartment, and for some reason it's just hard to eat well amidst the general disarray that a move inevitably brings.

It's not that our move was an especially difficult or stressful one; in fact, we only moved about a hundred feet down the road, into another unit in the same apartment building we've been living in for the past year. We still had to pack, though, and I still instituted a policy of eating down our pantry before the big day, in an effort to minimize waste and opened, half-eaten cargo.

This policy, however, seemed more effective last year, when Jonathan was moving out of the apartment he shared with two roommates, and there were more bodies around to eat the rather, um, interesting things I concocted with what was left in the kitchen cabinets. During that week, I remember making many batches of things like raspberry-banana bread (those frozen raspberries had been hanging around for months), all of which I managed to foist on unsuspecting friends and guests.

This time around, though, we didn't have the same local network of friends to help us eat our way through it all, and I ended up having to pack a few opened bags of flour, grains, and other staples. Everything (in the kitchen at least, the living room is another story) is pretty much in its place now, though, so I guess it's not so bad.

Now comes the happy task of re-stocking the pantry. Every move, of course, comes with the resolution to not accumulate so much stuff, not to let the fridge become overrun with once-used jars of who-knows-what, not to let the freezer become a substitute for the trash can. But a well-stocked pantry is a must for me, and I'm often so glad that I just happen to have some miso in the fridge, or a package of kombu in the cabinet.

Something I especially love is having lots of flavor-enhancing goodies and condiments in the refrigerator. They are quite evil when a move is imminent (I love tahini, but I've never finished an entire jar), but are also perfect for enhancing a quick, simple dinner or for punching up otherwise bland foods. Here are just a few examples:

1. Good jam or marmalade: perfect on toast with almond butter for a quick snack or breakfast; or an easy filling for tarts and other baked goods
2. "Rooster sauce" (sriracha): spicy and yummy in Asian vegetable stir-fries, or on eggs
3. Whole-grain mustard: essential in sauces, braises, and vinaigrettes
4. Vinegar - rice, apple cider, balsamic: adds acidity and flavor to just about anything
5. Ketchup: guilty as charged.

Let's focus on number 5 for a moment. I remember Jonathan being shocked to find that I, a self-proclaimed food snob and all-natural kind of gal, liked ketchup. I blame my mother, of course, who ruined my sister and me by introducing us to the uncannily delicious combination of ketchup and potato chips (it sounds weird, but you eat ketchup with french fries, don't you?).

Well, I've come a long way since my Heinz-and-Cape Cod days, but ketchup is still a winner. It's sweet, it's salty, it's acidic, it's just a bit savory, and seriously, I can't imagine eating scrambled eggs without it. Potatoes bland? Add ketchup. Chicken too dry? You get the idea.

Ketchup doesn't have to be the high-fructose corn-syrupy junk you find in the supermarket though. For starters, you can try an organic variety, which has all the deliciousness and versatility of the garden variety, but with real ingredients. Or, you can really go ketchup crazy, and make some of your own. It's surprisingly easy, customizable, and good. And it makes the best pantry staple. Stored in the fridge, it keeps well for a very long time (I'm not sure how long, but a few weeks, at least), and is good with everything.

I like to make mine spicy, to make things a bit more interesting, but it certainly could be made to taste more like regular ketchup. The recipe below is more of a guideline - instead of measuring things as I go along, I like to taste and adjust as necessary. It's been a while since I've this ketchup in my refrigerator, but now that I'm just about settled into my new kitchen, I'll have to make another batch soon. Enjoy!

Homemade Ketchup

1 box Pomi strained tomato puree (yes, it comes in a box)
drizzle of olive oil
1 shallot, minced
1-2 garlic cloves, pressed or minced
few generous pinches aleppo pepper or dried chili flakes
pinch of cayenne pepper (if you like heat)
sprinkling of dried herbs (I use Whole Foods all-purpose seasoning)
generous ground pepper
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika (more or less to taste)
2-3 tbs. balsamic vinegar
1-2 teaspoons brown sugar
salt to taste

Directions:

Heat oil in a saucepan, then add shallot and garlic. Saute for a few minutes, until softened. Add chili pepper and herbs, and cook for a minute more. Add strained tomatoes and remaining ingredients, and stir to combine. Continue cooking, stirring frequently, until ketchup is reduced. This will take a while - maybe 20 minutes or so. Keep temperature just below boiling to avoid messy splatters. As ketchup reduces, taste for seasoning, and add more salt, sugar, vinegar, or spice as necessary. Cook to a ketchup-like consistency, then allow to cool before serving. If not serving immediately, store in a glass jar (it will stain plastic) in the refrigerator.