Tomato-Bacon Soup with Gouda Chive "Biscuits"

I adore rainy days. In East Texas we had plenty of them. I spent many of them on a damp gray front porch tossing every blanket I could capture over white rocking chairs lined back to back. My favorite was a bright red, yellow, blue and green buffalo plaid with little tassels. I think that one's still tossed over a chair on the front porch. If my little brother was lucky, I would invite him into my makeshift shelter to watch the storm roll in over the sprawling valley my grandparents porch loomed over. He usually brought along his tattered striped blanket - white with thin primary red, yellow, blue and green stripes - it was practically thread bare, but he loved it. Usually after the rainy chill had fully set in my grandma would stick her head out the door and call us in for lunch. Grilled cheese, casseroles, and hot dogs were common. We loved everything she fed us. She was a master at "kid food," cheese toast and honey toast (just what the sound like) were, respectively, my all time favorites. Tomato soup wasn't in common rotation to my recollection, but I imagine that if she'd had this recipe she would have brought us mugs of this sharp, salty soup with a gooey slice of cheese toast.

Tomato-Bacon Soup, for 8
4 slices bacon slices, diced
2 15 oz. cans tomato sauce
1 dzn. sweet grape or cherry tomatoes, halved
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
2 tbsp. fresh basil, minced
1 tbsp. fresh parsley, minced
1 c. chicken stock (homemade if you can!)
1/4 c. red wine
splash bourbon
1/2 c. cream
1/4 tsp. pimenton (smoked paprika)
1/8 tsp. red pepper flakes (or more to taste)
pinch sugar
salt to taste
pepper to taste

In a deep dutch oven or pot over medium-high heat, fry the bacon. Once crisp, remove it from the pan to a paper towel to drain. In the fat, saute the onions, garlic, cherry tomatoes and herbs. Once soft, about 3 - 4 minutes, add the stock, bourbon, wine and tomato sauce. Then add the smoked paprika, red pepper, salt, pepper and sugar.

Bring up to a simmer. At this point you can either simmer for some time to let the flavors more fully combine, or you can go ahead and add the remaining ingredients. Regardless, prior to serving, stir in the cream and bacon. Top with a bit more basil if you like.

Gouda Chive "Biscuits," makes 12
1 tube prepared croissant dough
2 tbsp. chives, minced
2 tbsp. gouda, grated

Preheat the oven according to package directions. Contrary to package directions, cut the dough into 1/2" rounds and top with gouda and chives. Bake about 15 minutes or until the cheese has melted and the "biscuits" are golden.

Goodbye Gourmet

As I'm sure you all know by now, the incomparable Gourmet is ceasing publication. It will be tough to imagine a world without such a culinary keystone. I remember flipping through my step-grandmother's stacks of back issues as a little girl - all those glossy pages filled with impeccable dinners, words I couldn't yet digest, and that fantastic winding title script (I'm a sucker for a nice font)! I'm sure her infamous hollandaise sauce and creamy cheese cake came from between those pages. My grandfather's steak that always went alongside the two prior dishes, that's another story...

"Gourmet showed us the real possibilities of food: It wasn't just to nourish the body or excite the palate, but to engage the mind and imagination, to magnify our experience, bringing us more fully into our senses, allowing us to be more completely alive."


Goodbye, Gourmet.

Images, top to bottom: Seriously Wine and Gourmet Magazine
Quote: Diana Abu-Jaber for NPR

Red Wine & Tomato Braised Chicken Thighs

We stepped out of the movies Saturday night to a sharp, cold wind and I knew fall had hit. Just out of the blue, poof, fall! It just happened in an instant, but then again, I guess it always does. For some reason, I expected summer to last indefinitely this year. The sunshine and heat hasn't paused for months, a raindrop hasn't graced Southern California since last winter, and frankly, I'd pretty much forgotten what a treat the crisp fall chill could be. Of course with nippy fall weather comes cozy comfort food: spaghetti and meatballs, creamy soups, casseroles, pot roast, and now, a new constant on my comfort food list, braised chicken thighs. Fall-off-the-bone tender meat swimming in coaxed smoky tomato sauce warms to the core - just right for those impending low temperatures.

Red Wine & Tomato Braised Chicken Thighs, for 2 - 4
2 - 3 chicken thighs, bone-in, skin removed
1 16 oz. can tomato sauce
1 16 oz. can diced tomatoes or 1 1/2 c. cherry tomatoes, chopped
1/2 c. red wine
3 - 4 roasted peppers, chopped
1/2 tsp. cumin
1/2 tsp. red pepper flakes
1/2 tsp. smoked paprika
1 tbsp. fresh basil, plus more for garnish
1 tbsp. fresh flat leaf parsley, plus more for garnish
1 bay leaf
1 yellow onion, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 - 2 tbsp. olive oil
salt to taste
pepper to taste

Salt and pepper the chicken thighs on both sides. Bring 1 tbsp. of olive oil up to heat and brown the chicken on both sides (about 2 minutes per side). Remove from heat and set aside.

Add the onions, garlic and if necessary, more oil. Salt them and saute until soft (about 3 - 4 minutes). Add the paprika, bay leaf, cumin and red pepper, plus salt and pepper to taste. Add the tomato sauce, diced tomatoes and red wine. Add the basil and parsley.

Simmer over medium-low heat, covered for 1 - 1 1/2 hours. At this point the sauce should have reduced by nearly half and the chicken should easily pull away from the bone.

While the chicken simmers, make 1 c. white (preferably basmati) rice. When the chicken is done, shred it, remove the bones and serve with the sauce over a bed of rice.

Cinnamon-Nutella Croissants

I used to haunt a little bakery with worn sea green floors, rickety mismatched chairs and spotty sunshine. The place was strewn with coffee jagged college students and mediocre art. It was always a few degrees colder than necessary in there and impossible to find a table, but early in the morning – perfect. Things were quiet: a sleepy dog curled up by the door, a few moms with mussed children in tow, regulars and the heavy scent of baked goods filling every nook and cranny. Everything packed in the small glass case looked delicious and lacked pretension. Nothing overly glazed, no fancy styling, just rustic, made-from-scratch goodness. Between the tomato croissants, zucchini bread and cheese danishes lied my $2 habit, the reason I stopped in far too often, chocolate croissants. Buttery, flakey, golden chocolate croissants.

Since my favorite breakfast pastry is now 3,000 miles away that habit would begin to quickly ad up. Sure, there are chocolate croissants here, but not like those. So, when I came across the chocolaty stroke of genius on A Cup of Jo earlier this week I smacked myself squarely in the forehead for not thinking of it sooner. Nutella croissants! Why the hell not, right? They’re just like my beloved, too-far-away chocolate croissants only, dare I say, better. With these little gems you get not only chocolate and a buttery croissants, but hazelnuts and, if you’re so inclined, a smattering a cinnamon sugar on top! Oh, and I don’t have to spring for a plane ticket every time I get a hankering for chocolate baked goods.

Cinnamon-Nutella Croissants, makes 8
1 roll of croissant dough (I used Pillsbury, but any kind will do.)*
8 tbsp. Nutella (chocolate-hazelnut butter)**
2 tbsp. cinnamon sugar
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 tbsp. water

Preheat the oven to 350F. Roll out your croissant dough on a lightly greased cookie sheet. Put a tbsp. of Nutella on the wider end of the dough (it should be cut in a triangle shape). Roll up the dough wide end first until you get to the point. Combine the egg & water then lightly beat together. Brush the croissants with the egg wash & sprinkle to your liking with cinnamon sugar. Bake for 15 - 20 minutes or until the croissants are golden brown. Serve with a stiff cup of coffee & an espresso.

*These croissants come rolled up in a tube just like biscuits. They're usually in the refrigerated section of the grocery store near the eggs.

**Nutella is sold in most major groceries and is typically next to the peanut butter.