Comfort Foods and Indulgences

Sometimes I think I should just throw caution to the wind and write a book called “The Blue Cheese Diet: Eating Your Way To Happiness Through Gorgonzola And Roquefort”. I’d take all the photos, test each recipe personally, get it published, then do the TV show talk circuit, answering questions like “How did you come to invent the Blue Cheese Diet?” and “Now correct me if I’m wrong, but you went from 186 lbs to well over 350 lbs over the last 15 months, right?” The audience would snicker and laugh and point, I’d wipe the sweat from my face, and then they’d wheel me out on some gurney and my cookbook would be on the clearance rack at some B. Dalton close out sale a few months later, or worse, a bogo.

On second thought, I think I’ll stick with the day job.

But seriously, if I knew I could live on blue cheese I’d probably do it. I always seem to crave the full flavors of blue and when the craving starts no amount of cheddar or aged anything will suffice. I realize eating so much blue cheese is the taste equivalent to listening to my iPod at full blast, but that’s not to say I don’t appreciate the subtle flavors of shyer cheeses – I most certainly do!

With its classic Provençal flavors, this dish puts you in the heart of Provençe. Featuring herbes de Provençe, one of my favorite herb combinations, it's one of the easiest ways to bring the flavors of southern France into your kitchen. The Provençal herbs consist of a mixture of savory, fennel, basil, thyme, and lavender. Provençal dishes are known for their earthy, rich flavors beginning with quality olive oil and fresh ingredients. Extra-virgin olive oil is perfect for this recipe for its fruity flavor, reminiscent of the sweet air of the Mediterranean coast. And fennel, the classic Provencal vegetable, lends its sweet aroma and licorice taste to brighten the dish.

If there ever was an easy one-pot meal, this recipe is it. It's as simple as spatchcocking a Cornish hen, marinating it in lemon juice and herbs, and then roasting it on a bed of garlic, onion, fennel, and red bell pepper. The spatchcocking technique is basically removing the back bone, breaking and removing the breast bone, cutting off the wing tips, and laying the bird flat. This method makes for all around browned skin and faster cooking time. As the hen roasts, the vegetables underneath soften, mellow, and meld with its drippings while the meat reaches succulent tenderness. This recipe can also be made with additional Cornish hens or chicken.

I’ve never had luck trying to grow basil. It just never works for me. This year, one of the guys at the farmers market suggested I plant basil in 12-inch pots. I did. Today, two pots sitting in last summer’s square-foot garden hold basil that look like very lush, healthy shrubs. I just can’t believe it.

I pluck fragrant leaves from my basil plants everyday, layering them into sandwiches, tearing them to arrange over the top of homemade pizza, chopping them up to make fresh herb-flecked cream cheese spread and even steeping them in hot liquid to turn into jelly.

I recently discovered how well spicy-perfumed basil and sweet-tart ruby-red raspberries work together. Macerating raspberries with basil and a small amount of sugar produces a surprising treat for the taste buds. The longer the mixture is allowed to sit, the stronger the essence of basil will become. Basil-infused raspberry sauce is a unique topping for ice cream, waffles, French toast and is a delicious addition to a morning bowl of thick yogurt and homemade granola.

Yesterday, I stirred some Raspberry-Basil Sauce into a Chambord-spiked bowl of cheesecake batter. The resulting cake delivers an aromatic bouquet of fresh raspberries and basil with each forkful of creamy decadence. You won’t taste basil in the cake, but you will luxuriate in its refreshing sweet scent.

Whenever I'm in Hayes Valley around lunchtime, I'm always tempted to stop by Arlequin for a toasted cheddar, pear and bacon sandwich. The bread is crispy and crunchy, the cheese oozes and the sweetness of the pear is offset by the smoky saltiness of the bacon. Taking that sandwich as inspiration I decided to add mustard to my version. I was sure the warm spices including cinnamon, clove and cayenne in the mustard would really be delicious with the pear but I didn't want the intensity of bacon for this sandwich. After experimenting a bit, the combination I settled on was smoked turkey, white cheddar and pear. Smoked turkey is a good sandwich choice, it adds some heft and lean protein, and is healthier than ham or bacon.

One trick to getting this sandwich is right is to layer the ingredients just so. Start with a mustard slathered slice of bread and top it with cheese. The cheese and the mustard will kind of melt together. Put the smoked turkey in the middle and on the top put the pear. By grilling or toasting the sandwich on both sides in a pan you get a warmed through pear and gooey cheese that holds the turkey firmly in the middle. Make sure the cheese has melted before taking it off the heat. The last key is to let the sandwich sit for a few minutes before slicing, if you can!