Subject: Surpise! I Included a Recipe
I’ve never once heard someone say that they were glad to find a whole ass article when they were attempting to find a recipe. (To be fair, it might be a more pleasant discovery if the SEO-laden article in question wasn’t inevitably some meandering story about the author trying to make a recipe that her husband likes even though he will only eat salt-pork, whiskey, and engine oil.) I hope, however, that the converse is a significantly more delightful experience: getting a bonus recipe when you were expecting an article.
I started last year feeling burned out and uninspired about cooking. More accurately speaking, I still enjoyed cooking, but it was starting to feel like a scam that you have to figure out what to eat every single day, multiple times per day. On top of which you have to actually go get the groceries? Ahead of time?? (Come to think of it, it still feels like a scam.) I was in a perfectly primed state to fall for the relentless Hello Fresh ads that saturate my podcasts.
I stuck with Hello Fresh for a month, and I don’t regret it. Don’t worry—I’m not about to try and affiliate link you into a Hello Fresh subscription. There are plenty of reasons not to be impressed with Hello Fresh: most of the recipes aren’t particularly inspired, the quality of produce is fairly low, and every meal would be vastly cheaper to make if you went out and just got the ingredients yourself. Their bottom line relies on using cheap staples that have a long shelf-life: grains, potatoes, carrots, onions, beans, etc. This was part of what made my month of Hello Fresh so useful for me, though—it was a good reminder that I could make a lot of different meals from the same basics, and that I should never underestimate the power of lemon juice/zest and toasted breadcrumbs.
However! Hello Fresh brought one truly wonderful addition into my regular meal rotation: the zucchini melt. I made some variation of this sandwich pretty much every month last year, and now I’m going to share it with you.
You will need:
- Bread (the original recipe called for ciabatta rolls, but I like it just as much, if not more, on some fresh como)
- 1 small zucchini, sliced
- Fresh mozzarella, sliced (you can use bagged shreds, but why?)
- Sun-dried tomatoes, chopped (I like the jarred kind in oil best, but the other kind works fine, too)
- Parsley, finely chopped
- Mayonnaise (yes you need this, and yes I will respect you less if you don't like mayonnaise)
Instructions:
- Grill those zucchini slices on the stovetop over medium-high heat with a little oil. Sprinkle some salt and pepper on them, maybe even some italian spices if you're feeling feisty. Flip once, browning a little on both sides.
- Mix the parsley and mayo together. You don't actually have to do this if you don't want to dirty another dish, but somehow it feels fancier that way.
- Turn the heat down to medium/medium low. If you're using sliced bread (instead of ciabatta), spread a thin layer of mayonnaise on the outside of the bread. Assemble the sandwiches: parsley-mayo, sundried tomatoes, zucchini, and mozzeralla. Cook until the cheese is melty and the bread is toasty.
The other standout recipe for me last year was Helen Rosner’s Roberto soup. (This isn’t the first time I’ve mentioned Rosner in this newsletter. I talked about her article Christ in the Garden of Endless Breadsticks in my very first letter.) I’m several years late on this trend, but its virality was well-deserved. There are a thousand variants of the basic sausage, bean, and kale soup out there, but this is one of the best. Her recipe is perfect, as-is. My only notes are that it’s worth it to use the good canned tomatoes, the San Marzanos, and my favorite cheese to finish it with at the end is the Pecorino Romano they sell at Costco. (This opinion has fortunately aged well, much like good cheese—everyone* loves Costco ever since they told their shareholders to suck it and that they would not be cutting DEI policies. Being as enlightened as I am, I don’t believe in ethical consumption under capitalism, but I’ll believe in any institution that is committed to serving me a hotdog for a buck fifty.)
Thinking about food almost never feels like a waste of time. It’s such a core part of humanity—it’s central to our daily routines and rituals, it’s one of the foundations of community, it grounds us in our bodies. It is, quite literally, energy. I had the pleasure of visiting my friends Kayta and David’s farm this fall (as well as their very cute baby), and it was a beautiful reminder of the importance of food that is grown well and responsibly. In the last year, to save money, I’ve been eating a lot of non-organic Fred Meyer produce. Sometimes, you have to. But I ate a freshly picked cabbage from their field, and I must admit that I had forgotten that vegetables could have so much flavor. I swear, that cabbage tasted like crisp rainwater and sunbeams. I’ll be joining a CSA this spring.
Since I’ve been yapping about food, I’ll round things out by sharing a few of my other favorites from this last year.
Harry & David Pears
If you’ve ever worked a corporate job, there’s a possibility you’ve had these pears, because they are popular Christmas gifts for businesses to send to each other. These pears are stupidly expensive. They are grown in Oregon but mostly just available by mail. They are also the best pears I have ever had. I regret not chilling one then eating it in the shower, but next year I won’t forget.
Grillo’s Pickles
This isn’t new. These have been my favorite pickles for years. I like them so much that I once wrote the company a card to tell them how much I like their pickles. (They wrote back by hand and included a gift card for more pickles.)
Laoganma Spicy Chili Crisp
Okay, so actually most of these entries aren’t new favorites. Don’t buy the Momofuku chili crisp—I’m sure the flavor is fine, but they tried to trademark the term “chili crisp” and that’s just bullshit. Plus the grandma brand is perfect.
Mango Chili Rips
Let me assure you that I am of the people, and my tastes are not always virtuous. These gummy candies are phenomenal. The perfect combo of sweet, sour, and spicy. The texture is a little bit like what I imagine chewing on a tire tread would be like, in a good way.
Bachan’s Original
This Japanese BBQ sauce has upped my rice bowl game significantly. I like to add it to my mushrooms or protein during the last minute or two of cooking, to give a chance for the sugars in it to get an even deeper flavor.
Ask a Gecko an Isopod
For this edition of everyone's favorite advice column, we'll be turning to one of the many isopods in my care. I'd offer the column to the kitten, but she has yet to display any evidence of wisdom.
When we first started dating, my girlfriend asked me what my favorite meal was so she could cook it for me for our one month anniversary. We were 16, and I told her my favorite meal was Chicken Parmesan. She cooked it for me from scratch, and it was delicious. However, I realized that what I meant to say was Chicken Alfredo. I felt bad that she went out of her way to cook what she thought was my favorite meal, so I didn’t correct her- or myself.
Fast forward to now. We’ve been together for 11 years, we’ve been married for 2 years and once a month or so she still makes chicken parm for me because she thinks it’s my favorite. It’s good, but it’s really just not my favorite. At this point, it’s way too late to tell her the truth, right?
— u/Weird-Earth
The isopod that I detain for advice pauses atop the chlorophyll green chunk of “morning wood” detrivore food. The isopod has never eaten Chicken Parmesan or Chicken Alfredo. It has never eaten any sort of cheese. It enjoys decaying plant matter, such as leaf litter, wood, and the occasional desicated vegetable or fish flake. Although the isopod has its food preferences, it has never occurred to it that it might request its favorite foods.
However, all of this aside, the isopod would never mistakenly ask for rotting oak when what it craved most was dried shrimp. Although I try to give it what I think might be its favorite foods, the truth is that I have no idea, and it has no way to complain beyond dying of starvation. It thinks you ought to suck it up and enjoy the privileges of your omnivorous diet. In retrospect, you probably shouldn’t have asked the isopod for advice.