GARLIC CHICKEN PITAS WITH CARROT SALAD & EDAMAME HUMMUS


This sandwich is so much more than a sandwich, you guys. Garlic chicken pitas with carrot salad and edamame hummus (say yes to green hummus!) are most likely magical. Some dishes require a kind of synergy of ingredients to be truly complete, know what I mean? That unearthly shimmer that seems to pass over a dish like the successful casting of a good witch's spell in a fairy tale, the flavors of each ordinary, individual part melding perfectly once they're all together. Pull those ingredients apart, however, and each are........somehow lacking. Refusing to shine. Much less than the sum of its parts. Like a lackluster solo career that never should have been (if there were a sandwich equivalent of Scott Weiland), it's simply more evidence that some partnerships are just not meant to be split up, ever.

This dish, though, guys? Definitely NOT one of those situations. Fantastic together, fantastic apart, whatever the situation calls for....each of the elements of this sandwich is your new mealtime best friend. Allow me to introduce you.



This colorful flatbread sandwich, including tender, citrus-glazed garlic chicken with carrot & feta salad and a generous schmear of edamame hummus is something more like a dream team, composed of only star players. Simple flavors--olive oil, garlic, lemon--repeat again and again like plucked notes against a strain of music, creating a kind of resonant harmony when the layers of this sandwich comes together. Yes, it's that good. But split it apart into three new recipes for your mealtime arsenal, and......it's still that good. These garlic-infused chicken breast slices, for example, could also moonlight as toppings for a hearty kale salad or sit atop a tangle of whole wheat pasta dressed lightly with olive oil and tomatoes. Sweet and earthy carrots play brilliantly off the tart brightness of fresh lemon juice and the salty tang of crumbled feta in a simply assembled carrot salad, one of my favorite side dishes ever. Try this alongside grilled lamb, layered in almost any sandwich, or tossed with leafy greens as a main-event salad. Carrot salad is a perennial hit in my household and formed the original inspiration for this layered pita sandwich, but I have to admit, it was nearly overtaken by a new favorite I discovered while developing this recipe: edamame hummus. Hummus. Made with edamame, you guys.This simple twist on classic hummus is lighter and fresher than the original, and takes on the kind of pretty, delicate green hue that always inspires wonder and hunger in me simultaneously. Edamame hummus is the kind of easygoing side dish that will happily play with flatbread, crisp raw vegetables, fancy crackers, and just about anything else you'd care to pair it with. All things being equal, I'd recommend a spoon. :)


Garlic Chicken Pitas with Edamame Hummus, and Carrot Feta Salad
Makes 4 servings

For marinated chicken:

1 lb. boneless chicken breasts
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 garlic clove, smashed and minced
1 teaspoon dried oregano
¾ teaspoon salt, divided
Freshly ground black pepper

For carrot feta salad:

3 large carrots, peeled and grated
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon honey
3 teaspoons flat leaf parsley, chopped (divided)
1 tablespoon feta, crumbled

For edamame hummus:

8 oz. shelled edamame (frozen)
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons lemon juice
1 garlic clove, smashed and minced
¼ cup water
¼ cup tahini
4 pitas, or other flatbread of choice

Preheat oven to 350 degrees, arrange chicken breasts in roasting pan. In a small bowl, whisk together one tablespoon olive oil, one tablespoon lemon juice, one garlic clove the dried oregano, then drizzle this dressing over chicken and finish with a sprinkle of salt. Bake for 20 minutes, or until chicken breasts are done. Remove, season lightly with pepper to taste, then set aside to cool. Once chicken has cooled for about ten minutes, cut into ½” slices for serving.



Place grated carrots in a bowl, pour 1 tablespoon olive oil, one tablespoon lemon juice and one teaspoon honey over them, toss well with a fork. Sprinkle ¼ teaspoon salt, 1 teaspoon parsley and all of the crumbled feta over carrots, toss once more with a fork.

Heat a good amount of salted water to boiling in a medium saucepan, add edamame and boil for 5 minutes, then strain and place in bowl, set aside to let cool. Once cool, place edamame in a food processor with minced garlic clove, ½ teaspoon salt, 2 tablespoons lemon juice, lemon zest, 2 teaspoons parsley, ¼ cup water and tahini. Puree until a smooth paste begins to form, then drizzle in the remaining three tablespoons of olive oil and continue to blend until the oil is absorbed.



To assemble sandwiches, spread a heaping tablespoon of edamame hummus on each pita (or inside, if using pitas pocket-style), top with slices of chicken and another heaping tablespoon of carrot feta salad. Fold, eat, and enjoy!

SWEET LEMON BISCUITS, Y'ALL


Photos: Ten22 Studio
I need to be the first to point something out: I have no biscuit-making pedigree in my heritage. There's no familial biscuit recipe handed down in grandmother's shaking hand, no secret ways, no bygone biscuits that I can recall at all, really.
But I love them.
Buttery and flaky, soul-redeeming when they're perfect but honestly great even when they're crumbly, served savory to mop up streaks of gravy or just-so sweet and dolloped with rich lemon curd.....man, do I love me some biscuits. Do you need to have biscuits in your bloodline in order to make them properly? Purists are going to tell me yes, but even still, I don't know. Certainly my biscuits aren't Southern-grandmother-perfect. My people aren't Southern at all, but British--maybe my biscuits have a touch of the scone about them, instead--so these may be cultural anomalies, but they're fantastic alongside a hot, steaming cup of morning coffee, or a tall glass of iced tea. Lightly sweet and kissed with fragrant lemon flavor, the rich pistachio glaze on top is all the sugar you need (plus maybe a little bit extra).
Photos: Ten22 Studio
Just so you know: I'm not a huge fan of most pictures of me. Unless they're taken by a freakishly gifted professional, as these were. Most of the gorgeous photography in this post was shot by my friend, the very talented Rennai Hoefer of Ten22 Studio (she has since blogged the rest of the photos from this shoot, and they're all just as delicately stunning), in an equally gorgeous kitchen borrowed from Heather Kinkel (aka The Birdiegirl Co.). It takes a village to produce a lovely batch of biscuits, people. Rennai and Heather made me feel like a downright domestic goddess that day, and in gratefulness to them, I share my biscuit recipe from that day with all of you. Go forth, blog friends, and bake these for the ones you love. ❤️

Photo: Sweet Laurel


Sweet Lemon Biscuits with Pistachio Glaze
Makes a dozen small biscuits
For the biscuits:
2 cups all purpose flour
1 tablespoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1/2 cup white sugar
4 tablespoons unsalted butter (very cold, ideally you should place it in the freezer for 20 minutes first)
1/2 cup of milk
zest from 1 small lemon
2 tablespoons lemon juice
For the glaze:
2/3 cup chopped pistachios
1 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar
water
salt (optional)

Preheat oven to 425 and line a baking sheet with parchment in preparation. In a large mixing bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt & sugar. Using the large holes of a cheese grater, grate cold butter into the dry mixture. Work the mixture with your fingertips until everything becomes coarse and crumbly, then STOP! Add milk and work the mixture a little more with your hands until a shaggy dough forms. Add lemon zest & juice, work it gently into the mixture, then gather the dough in a loose ball and place it on a working surface (a clean, lightly floured countertop or another piece of parchment works here).

Pat dough into a shape roughly one inch thick, then--using a small biscuit-cutter or my favorite method, the drinking edge of a glass*--cut out biscuit shapes and place on prepared baking sheet. Bake at 425 for about 12-15 minutes, or until lightly golden. Remove and let cool thoroughly.

( *My 'biscuit-cutter' is a small glass that cuts shapes about 2 1/2" inches across. Yours may vary slightly)

To make the glaze, place 1/3 cup pistachios (setting aside the other 1/3 cup for now) in a food processor and pulse until they are as finely ground as possible. Add confectioner's sugar, then water in small amounts. I like to start with a tablespoon and blend until a slow, runny honey-like consistency is achieved, adding a few drops of water here and there as needed. Add a pinch of salt if using unsalted pistachios. Spread on the tops of your cooled biscuits and sprinkle with the remaining chopped pistachios.

STRAWBERRY FEELS FOREVER


Two magical little words for you today, my friends.......strawberry season.

Just saying the words gives me a little strawberry-perfumed sigh of satisfaction. These plump, juicy little red mouthfuls are a favorite of mine from way back in childhood, and always conjure up a series of lazy summertime afternoon feelings. When challenged to come up with a dessert that matched perfectly with a Fourth of July-themed picnic, my first and only thought was STRAWBERRIES. Seeing as July fourth falls smack in the middle of their ripe season, it's perfect timing, and I think you'll love the simplicity of this rustic tart. A shortbread cookie-inspired, press-in crust is the easiest pastry base in the world to make, and the buttery pastry meets its perfect match when topped with a thin layer of rich mascarpone and thinly sliced sweet-tart berries.



The little hints of white that peek through the layers of cheery, bright red strawberry are subtly patriotic enough for any July fourth picnic, and if you're looking for a flag-inspired dessert that gets its lovely hues from nature (rather than vats of red--and worse, blue--dye), this is the treat for you. Happy Fourth of July!



Strawberry Mascarpone Tart

Makes one 9" tart

For the tart base:

4 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
3 tablespoons sugar
1 large egg yolk
1 cup flour
1 teaspoon salt

For the tart topping:

1 cup mascarpone
1 tablespoon lemon zest
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1/3 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups sliced strawberries
2 tablespoons honey

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Stir together butter and sugar in a medium bowl, then stir in egg yolk. Add flour and salt, and stir until the mixture is dry and crumbly. Press dough into bottom and up the sides of a 9-inch tart pan. Place in freezer until firm, about 20 minutes. Bake, rotating halfway through, just until the tart base turns lightly golden brown, about 20 minutes. Remove pan and let tart base cool in pan.

In a mixing bowl, combine mascarpone (I like to use Vermont Creamery), lemon zest, lemon juice and sugar. Spread mixture on completely cooled tart base with a pastry spatula or butter knife. In another bowl, toss strawberries with honey, then arrange in whatever pattern you like on top of the tart. Slice, share and enjoy!


PERFECT PRESSED PICNIC SANDWICHES


Surry down to a stoned soul picnic
There'll be lots of time and wine
Red yellow honey
Sassafras and moonshine


Oh picnics, I've been thinking longingly of you these days. It's overly hot and dusty here at the arid peak of summer, even in those very early mornings when I slip on shoes and head outside still sleepyheaded with two leashes and excited pups in hand, toes stepping gingerly on still-warm pavement from the night before. Summer days are long. That's the pain, and the almost-maddening pleasure, of midsummer. So no one's venturing outside for lunch--least of all me--even if they were armed with the world's tallest, frostiest glass of lemonade. But I was recently challenged to dream up the ultimate menu for a Fourth of July-themed picnic (those of you who live in more temperate climates, is it really possible to picnic outside in July? I seriously envy you), and these sandwiches with their densely layered red-and-white stripes resting on a bed of purplish-blue olive tapenade, seemed to have just the right dash of Americana. Plus, it never hurts to mention that being full of juicy tomatoes, ham, salty olives, garlic and basil and other good things......they're shockingly delicious.

The layers actually seem to concentrate in flavor as they smush down under a heavy object (a cast iron skillet or a stack of cookbooks are my go-to kitchen weights), the flavorful salty spread sinking into the bread, the layers of tomato, mozzarella and ham becoming one. These pressed picnic sandwiches make such perfectly compact little gems when sliced, they're nearly as much a pleasure to look at as to eat. It's the perfect example of a summertime picnic staple: so easy to customize, so easy to assemble, so easy to wrap in squares of parchment and pack up in a cooler or wicker basket...and best of all, it's a recipe that actually gets better as it hangs around in the refrigerator waiting for its moment to shine!

A quick note, first, on authenticity. Condiments, like 'picnics,' are subject wildly to interpretation, right? So the kalamata olive mixture that goes on these is unapologetically a shortcut, a kind of 'cheater's tapenade'....but all the better to get you to the picnic faster, my dears. Try these sandwiches for your next gathering, whether it's an evening picnic on the grass, a backyard potluck under the fireworks, or even a living room floor affair complete with sandwiches and red-white-and-blue potato salad (more on that later) and frosty lemonades for everyone. Picnics are, after all, a state of mind.



Pressed Picnic Sandwiches

Ciabatta bread
Olive tapenade (recipe follows below)
2 Roma tomatoes
8 oz. fresh mozzarella
6 thin slices of deli ham
Baby arugula leaves
Fresh basil leaves

For the tapenade:

½ cup pitted kalamata olives
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 teaspoon fresh basil
¼ teaspoon honey
¼ teaspoon fresh garlic, minced

To make the tapenade, add all ingredients to the bowl of a food processor, pulse until they combine into a spread. I like mine a little rustic in texture, but can keep processing it until it's as smooth as you like. Slice tomatoes and mozzarella into approximately 1/4" slices, set both aside on paper towels for a few minutes to remove excess moisture (this will help eliminate the dreaded soggy sandwich scenario).

Using a serrated bread knife, slice the loaf of ciabatta bread in half, lengthwise. Spread the tapenade in an even layer on the bottom half of the bread. Layer tomato, mozzarella and ham evenly on top of this. Arrange a layer of arugula and basil leaves over this, top with the other half of ciabatta loaf.


Wrap everything tightly in plastic wrap, pressing out as much air as possible. Place this bundle in the refrigerator under a heavy weight, let sit for at the very least one hour or overnight, if possible. Remove plastic wrap and slice sandwich into sections for picnic time! I like to wrap each section in its own square of parchment and tie it up with a little twine for transport, but plastic wrap works fine here, too. Happy picnicking!




BOWLS OF CHERRIES



Yes, I pitted each and every single one of these cherries myself...with a knitting needle, in fact (the simple reason for which is that I do a lot more knitting then I do cherry pitting, so guess which pointy metal object is more readily available around my house?). It is, I believe, a thing that everyone should sit down and do at least once per cherry season. The rest of the year, you can pull your bag of frosty, pre-pitted cherries from the freezer like everyone else--totally admit to this habit myself--whenever you're in need of a homemade cherry pie, cherry syrup, muffins, an addition to a smoothie. 

But promise me this. 

Promise me that at least once a year, you'll sit down with a bowl of these beauties and work through the meditative act of poking each stone through the fruit by hand, one at a time. And as you pit each stubborn little devil, try to really think about the work itself. Think about how many deft fingertips had to pluck and pluck and pluck to fill this bowl full of juicy red fruits. Think about how many cherries had to first be carefully pitted to create each mouthful of cherry pie you've ever devoured, streaked with marbled scarlet-and-pink swirls of melting vanilla cream. Silently thank every cherry pie baker you've ever known, for their perseverance, for their deeply stained fingertips, for their dexterous way with a cherry pitter or a sharp knitting needle. 



And then do whatever you can to prolong cherry season, and to make the most of each single cherry you hand-pitted for someone's pleasure. If you're looking for suggestions, I'd suggest this recipe for pickled cherries. They're sweet, tart, with a faint background of salt, caramelly tones from brown sugar, nuanced notes of allspice, clove and pepper. These would be equally at home on a cheese plate, a kale salad spiked with goat cheese, or even a tender pulled pork sandwich.


Sweet & Tart Pickled Cherries

Makes about one quart

1 cup water
1/3 cup light brown sugar
1 tablespoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
small handful of whole black peppercorns (around 20)
whole cloves (also about 20)
1/2 cup white vinegar
4 cups fresh sweet cherries, pitted

Place water, sugar, salt and spices in a small saucepan, heat just to boiling then remove from heat. Stir until sugar and salt are dissolved, let mixture steep for about five minutes. Add vinegar and cherries to mixture.

Let cool completely, then place in airtight container (note: leave whole spices in with the cherries & pickling brine, as they will continue to flavor the mixture. Just be careful to leave them behind when you remove the cherries for eating!) and refrigerate. Enjoy on everything from cheese plates to savory sandwiches within three weeks of pickling. Happy summer, cherry pitters!




GREEN GARLIC SOUP


Straight outta the farmer's market, yo. It's my new obsession: green garlic.


The return of spring, for me, always brings with it an obsession with bright green—the color hardest to come by in the dead of winter, which is when I’m always dreaming of tender shoots and leaves. Green garlic is always a welcome surprise at my farmer’s market, and when it begins to show up around springtime (it will stick around through early summer, too), I like to make this vibrant green-as-green-can-be soup to highlight the color & grassy flavor of the season. This particular soup gets its verdant hue from not only green garlic and zucchini, but also a hefty dose of fresh basil and parsley, as well.

It’s almost supernaturally creamy (considering it doesn’t have a drop of dairy in it), for two reasons: the mild taste & wonderfully smooth texture of pureed zucchini, and the magic that happens when soaked raw cashews are blended into a rich, very cream-like puree. This is the perfect soup to hit all those ‘luxury craving’ sensors in your brain without weighing you down with overindulgence, and it’s an ideal spring or early summer dinner meal.


Green Garlic & Zucchini Soup

Makes 4 servings

2 bunches green garlic (about 1/2 lb.)
2 tablespoons olive oil
3 large zucchini, unpeeled and diced into ½” pieces (abut 1 ½ lbs.)
1 quart chicken or vegetable stock
1/4 cup fresh chopped basil
¼ cup fresh chopped flat leaf parsley
1 cup raw cashews (covered in water and soaked for at least two hours)
½ cup water
Salt & pepper, to taste

For Parsley Oil:

1 bunch flat leaf parsley
1/2 cup olive oil

Slice green garlic (crosswise, across the bulb) into ¼” sections, including the darker green tops. Heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large, heavy-bottomed pot over medium high heat, add the white and pale green slices of garlic (save the darker green slices for the moment, you’ll add them later so they don’t burn) and cook for 5 minutes, stirring with a wooden spoon. Add zucchini and the sliced green tops of the garlic, continue to stir as you cook for 5 more minutes, allowing everything to soften. Add stock, basil and parsley, reduce heat slightly to medium low, cover and simmer for 30 minutes. While soup is simmering, make the creamy cashew puree and parsley oil.

Heat a pot of water to boiling, drop 1 whole bunch of parsley into it and blanch for 10 seconds. Remove quickly and shock with cold running water (or an ice bath) to stop cooking; parsley should be bright green and lovely. Dry well and place in blender with ½ cup olive oil, blend to a fine puree. Strain through cheesecloth or a fine mesh strainer, save the resulting bright green oil for garnishing.

Drain soaked cashews and rinse well. Place in food processor or high-powered blender, blend until creamy and smooth. After 30 minutes, add to pot and continue to blend the entire soup mixture (you can do this is batches in your blender, or an immersion ‘stick’ blender is great for this) until smooth. Taste soup, add salt & pepper to preference. Serve warm, garnished with a freeform swirl of parsley oil.