Weekend Cooking Book Review: WEEKNIGHTS WITH GIADA

Confession: I didn’t have the best experience with my first Giada de Laurentis cookbook, Giada’s Family Dinners. The dishes I tried came out fine, but almost everything was in the “Weekend Cooking” category – the stuff you make rarely, because it takes lots of time and lots of ingredients. (The Everyday Family Entrees section included Rack of Lamb with Mint-Basil Pesto and Veal Scallopine with Saffron Cream Sauce. Delicious, yes, but not the stuff a working mom is likely to whip up after a day at the office.) Still, the flavors were good, so when I saw the Netgalley of her new cookbook, Weeknights with Giada, was available for review, I decided to put it to the test before I bought it.

With a beautiful steak in the freezer, we decided to try the Rib Eye Steaks with Smoky Arrabiata Sauce. The prep was simple: the arrabiata sauce consisted of canned, crushed tomatoes and veggies with a serrano pepper and smoked paprika for kick. No oil at all – just a few pulses in the food processor and heat for 25 minutes. And the steak was just coated with olive oil and salt. Definitely an “after work” kind of meal, but reviews were split. My husband loved it. My oldest pronounced it, “Meh.” But my youngest asked, “Why can’t we just have ketchup?” And I thought the addition of 2 tablespoons of sugar into the already sweet crushed tomatoes (I used San Marzano tomatoes) was just too much against a not very spicy arrabiata. But I liked the idea, and it was a good deal healthier than ketchup. Score one and a half a points for Giada.

To be fair, I wanted to try one more recipe. In reading the book, I noticed that a number of recipes called for canned salmon. That seemed weird to me – I grew up on Long Island, and while I can easily give up meat, I could never give up fish. But I am fussy about it. Could Giada convince me to like canned fish? I was dubious. Still, sustainably caught fresh salmon is very pricey, so sustainably caught canned salmon, at about half the price, would be a nice alternative. So last night we tackled Salmon Cakes with Lemon-Caper Yogurt Sauce.

Verdict: YUM! I really couldn’t believe it. The salmon cakes were a bit of a mess to put together, and next time I would definitely put them on parchment paper while they rest in the fridge. I was suspicious about making two recipes (the cakes and the sauce) on a weeknight, but in this case a number of ingredients could be prepped once and used in both recipes. My husband and I agreed it wasn’t any more hassle to put two together than one. And the taste was fantastic. Both of my girls went back for more, and my oldest said she loved the salmon with the corn. Four points for Giada that round.

Maybe it stands to reason that now that she’s a mom herself, De Laurentis has a better feel for the pressures of a working mom who still wants to put a healthy meal on the table. I found this a big improvement, time-wise, over her previous family-oriented book, and I’ll probably be buying this one, because there are a number of other meals I’d like to try, especially the pastas.

Salmon Cakes with Lemon-Caper Yogurt Sauce from Weeknights with Giada by Giada De Laurentis

Salmon Cakes

1 (14.75 oz) can boneless, skinless pink salmon, drained

1 large egg, beaten

1/3 cup chopped fresh chives

26 saltine crackers, crushed

½ cup frozen corn, thawed

¼ cup mayonnaise, plus more as needed

2 tbsp Dijon mustard

1 tbsp capers, rinsed and drained

1 tbsp grated lemon zest

1 tbsp fresh lemon juice

3 tbsp vegetable oil

3 tbsp unsalted butter

Using a fork, flake the salmon into ½-inch pieces into a medium bowl. Add the egg, chives, ½ cup of the crushed crackers, corn, mayonnaise, mustard, capers, lemon zest, and lemon juice. Mix gently until just combined. Form into 10 patties, each about ¾ inch thick (if the mixture is too dry to form into patties, add extra mayonnaise, 1 tbsp at a time). Carefully coat the patties in the remaining crushed crackers and refrigerate for 20 minutes.

In a large nonstick skillet, heat oil and butter together over medium heat. Add the patties and cook 7 to 8 minutes on each side, until golden and crispy. Drain patties on paper towels.

Lemon-Caper Sauce

½ cup full-fat plain Greek yogurt

1 ½ tbsp capers, rinsed, drained and chopped

1 tbsp grated lemon zest

1 tbsp fresh lemon juice

½ tsp kosher salt

¼ tsp freshly ground black pepper

In a small bowl, mix the yogurt, capers, lemon zest, lemon juice, salt and pepper.

Weekend Cooking is open to anyone who has any kind of food-related post to share: Book (novel, nonfiction) reviews, cookbook reviews, movie reviews, recipes, random thoughts, gadgets, fabulous quotations, photographs. If your post is even vaguely foodie, feel free to grab the button and link up anytime over the weekend. Please link to your specific post, not your blog's home page. Thanks to Beth Fish Reads for hosting!

Book Review: SONOMA ROSE by Jennifer Chiaverini

Normally, I am a person who hates to come into a book series in the middle. So I’m going to admit to being a little worried when Jennifer Chiaverini’s Sonoma Rose arrived and I saw the subtitle: An Elm Creek Quilts Novel. I had never heard of the series, so I went to visit the site and realized I was jumping into the middle of what appeared to be a cottage industry: novels, fabric patterns, even a cookbook, all inspired by Chiaverini’s work. There was no way to catch up (there are already 18 books in the series), so I just decided to jump in and hope for the best. I’m happy to say I was rewarded with a novel of depth and grit that brought a time and a place that I know very little about – Prohibition era California – to life.

The novel begins with Rosa Diaz Barclay trapped in a loveless and increasingly volatile marriage to John, desperate at having lost four of her 8 children to a mysterious wasting disease that attacked them right after they were weaned. Two of her four remaining children suffer from the same affliction, although the other two, including her eldest, are completely healthy. Having been abandoned by her family, her only support comes from her childhood sweetheart, Lars Jorgensen, and a new arrival in Arboles Valley, Elizabeth Nelson. When Elizabeth witnesses one of John’s jealous rages, the stage is set for Rosa to run. The family’s attempt to free themselves both from the tyranny of an abusive spouse and the nightmare of a disease that the local doctors cannot understand comprise the main action of the novel, and I was caught up in Rosa’s world from the very beginning.

This novel serves up a really interesting piece of historical fiction, and throws in a offbeat love story for good measure. Rosa and her family find themselves among the desperate northern California vineyard owners who are trying to hold onto their land and their heritage as Prohibition slowly destroys their way of life. I had never really thought about the unintended effects of Prohibition on law abiding citizens – and how desperation might have forced vineyard owners into relationships with criminals, just to keep their heads above water. The book emphasizes the ambiguity of the time by contrasting the slimy Prohibition agent, Dwight Crowell, with the protective bootlegger, Mr. Lucerno.

It was also fascinating to think about how much medicine has changed our lives in less than 100 years. In the time before genetic testing and antibiotics, illness must have seemed so much more mysterious and ominous than it does to us now. Rosa’s attempts to deal with her children’s condition were so heartbreaking that any mother reading could easily put herself in Rosa’s place.

While Sonoma Rose was identified as part of the Elm Creek Quilt series, quilts and quilt-making are only tangential to the storyline. From what I’ve read, this may make Sonoma Rose an unusual part of the collection, but for me it meant there was no problem understanding what was going. It’s possible that the heirloom quilts that Elizabeth gives Rosa are detailed in a previous book, but not knowing that didn’t detract in any way from my enjoyment of the book.

I’ve been reading a lot of translated fiction and classic fiction lately, and Sonoma Rose was a nice, light break. Not being a quilter, I’m not sure if I’d go back and read the rest of the series. But I did enjoy this novel very much, and recommend it to those interested in 20th century historical fiction, regardless of whether they are quilters or not. This book counts for the Historical Fiction Challenge 2012 – it’s about time I got something done, challenge-wise, to keep February from being a complete bust! Thanks to everyone at Historical Tapestry for hosting!

I read this book as part of a TLC book tour, and received a copy of the book in return for my honest opinion. For other opinions, check out the links here.

Novella Review: Christopher Morley's Parnassus on Wheels

When Frances of Nonsuch Books mentioned the Art of the Novella Challenge, I was intrigued. But also a bit intimidated. My limited experience with novellas led me to believe that they’re rather like black holes – small yes, but incredibly dense. I’m thinking Kundera’s Slowness or Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men -- a short but intense intellectual workout. And anyone who’s checked in here recently knows that I’m on intellectual hiatus until the end of summer.*

Still, I love the near immediate gratification of a slim book, so I decided to poke through the Melville House catalog and see if there wasn’t something less than grim. I threw out the Russians immediately. Sorry Leo and Ivan – definitely winter fare. Every memory of Joyce I have involves a headache, and the Dublin pub crawl is only one of them – bye my Irish friend. But eventually I got to a part of the catalog that seemed far less threatening, inviting even. Being a Long Island girl, I was familiar with Christopher Morley from the beautiful park that’s named after him. So far so good. Then I read the description of his Parnassus on Wheels and saw it was a romantic comedy. No black hole there! Yippee – I could participate in the Art of the Novella challenge without harshing my summer groove! Good thing, because it was a fun little find!

The story is narrated by Helen McGill, the long-suffering spinster sister of nature essayist Andrew McGill. She’s been baking bread and cleaning up after her famous but selfish brother for 15 years when Roger Mifflin stops by their farm to try and sell Andrew his Parnassus, a bookstore on wheels, so he can retire to Brooklyn. Helen realizes that she’ll have even more work to do if her brother gets his hands on Parnassus, so she rashly decides to buy Parnassus herself and have her first-ever holiday. Mifflin comes along to show her how to work Parnassus, her brother can’t believe he’s been left high and dry, and hilarity and romance inevitably ensue.

The novella isn’t really deep or complex, but what was so very interesting was Morley’s ability to take on the voice of a 40ish woman who believes life has passed her by. At one point, Helen finds Mifflin’s notebook, and considers the impact he’s had on the people he’s met:

It seemed as if I had stumbled unawares on the pathetic, brave and lonely heart of the little man. I’m a commonplace creature, I’m afraid, insensible to many of the deeper things in life, but every now and then, like all of us, I come face to face with something that thrills me. I saw how this little, red-bearded pedlar was like a cake of yeast in the big, heavy dough of humanity: how he traveled about trying to fulfill in his own way his ideals of beauty. I felt almost motherly toward him: I wanted to tell him I understood him.

The way Helen is beginning to cherish Mifflin is so sweet, and rang so true, that I actually went to the internet to confirm that Christopher Morley wasn’t a pseudonym for a woman!

“Dear” is the perfect word for this novella – it’s a prototypical romantic comedy, something that could easily have been made into a Hepburn/Tracy movie. It’s completely different than any other novellas I’ve read: a breezy, summery story to usher me into fall.

And all those weightier tomes I’ve been putting off until then.

*That would actually be Monday, but I realize what a luxury it is to have the summer off in the first place, so I promise not to whine about it, no matter how sorely I’m tempted.