Avocado, Red Onion and Mandarin Salad with Orange-Muscat Vinaigrette

Blogging has become rather infrequent for me these past weeks, I’ve noticed. Nothing personal – it just seems really draining to air the same frustrations about school online as they are in my head, and it also seems to be pretty much the only thing I’m mulling about currently. Not a pretty situation. It gets reflected in the cooking too I think, and the meals seem more ho-hum, nothing to write about. (This morning: coffee, oatmeal. Lunch: stir-fry chicken and vegs. Dinner: whatever I put in the crockpot this morning. Although the new crockpot is pretty darn terrific.) It’s like all my creative expenditure has disappeared from the plate and gone straight to the what-if section of my brain. Oddly enough, the less control I have in those areas the more comfort I want to seek in those familiar areas like the kitchen, and yet I’m exhausted before I begin.
We did manage a good dinner over the weekend, though. I wanted sort of an orange theme and had planned scallops with an orange-zest risotto and a salad. The risotto did not have quite as much of an orange note as I’d envisioned, largely in part because I bullied Rob into using ground white pepper without mentioning it can be a bit kicky and not quite like black pepper. Turns out (a) I sometimes have major problems sharing my kitchen (I love the idea of someone else cooking for me, and actually, he’s really darn good at lots of things that I can’t make properly . . . but I think sometimes particularly in my own apartment I have a touch of inflated ego and alpha chef syndrome) and (b) there’s really not much you can if you’ve over-peppered a dish. If anyone knows any tricks, I’d love to hear them – Google let us down.
The salad worked itself out though, marred only by too-early tomatoes. The orange there came secondary after I found some lovely avocadoes . . . and paging through a Martha book I came across her recipe for an orange-muscat vinaigrette, which was exactly the type of thing I would’ve tried to concoct myself, but with definite ingredients and better proportions. Nothing overly spectacular, but a nice change with the fruit and very pleasant overall.

AVOCADO, RED ONION AND MANDARIN SALAD WITH ORANGE-MUSCAT VINAIGRETTE
vinaigrette adapated from Martha Stewart Living Annual Recipes 2005

1 head Bibb lettuce
1 ripe but not mushy avocado
several paper-thin slices red onion
1 container mandarin oranges sections, well drained
1-2 small ripe tomatoes, diced
2 Tbsp orange muscat vinegar or white balsamic vinegar
1-2 Tbsp orange juice
1 clove roasted garlic, smashed
1/2 tsp Dijon mustard
salt and pepper to taste
~ 1/3 c olive oil

Wash and dry whole leaves of the Bibb lettuce and divide between two salad bowls. Halve and pit the avocado, dice, and place half in each bowl. Divide the onion, orange sections, and tomato between the two. Pour vinaigrette over each salad and serve.
For the dressing: In a small bowl or measuring cup, combine the vinegar, one tablespoon of the orange juice, the garlic, and mustard. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Pour the olive oil in a slow steady stream, whisking the mixture as you do so, until well combined. Taste and adjust with additional orange juice if desired. Refrigerate any leftovers, covered, and re-whisk before using.

Lesser News, and Croque Monsieur

Week in review: interviews, 1; rejections, 1.

Just found out today I've been rejected by Ivy #2, which is not entirely surprising. The first reason is that I hadn't heard from them yet (apparently, they had made decisions and someone was supposed to tell me a while ago but didn't), and the second is that they don't actually have the program I'm most interested in. I'm not entirely heartbroken but nonetheless, it kind of stinks being denied. One of the not-so-great things of studying psych is you can instantly recognize all your defense mechanisms, such as: I didn't want to go there because I hate the city anyway, and they're not as good as the other program, and besides everybody gets rejections from someplace. These things may be true, but they're not as comforting when you can categorize the thoughts. Darn you, Freud.
On the other hand . . .
Monday was super-exhausting: all-day on-campus interview with another school. A better fit than I’d previously anticipated, and a better program than I’d been giving them credit for. Not the greatest still perhaps, but not bad at all, local to boot which is a huge factor and I’d like to think I was mildly impressive to them. It was also reassuring to know the other applicants hadn’t heard back from some of their places yet either, and so it’s entirely possible my first choice has either not yet started or has sort of wait-listed me. I wrote to them this morning inquiring how that's going and am waiting nervously to hear back . . . and I should hear back from this one next week-ish.
As much as I really wanted to come back and crash Monday with take-out - I have had this undefeatable urge for French fries - I swung by for groceries on the way home and settled on making a really killer sandwich instead.

Croque monsieur, as far as I can understand, is just a really fancy way of saying ham and cheese. Granted, you can be all traditional, and batter the sandwich, or spread it with butter and then grill it, but when you get down to it you can slap the croque monsieur label on variations that have nothing of the sort. And let’s face it, it sounds a lot cooler. But simply ham and cheese wasn’t quite fascinating enough. A layer of garlic mayo (super-good) and roasted asparagus, however, do wonders for the sandwich. Kick your shoes off, relax, and dig in kind of food – just what you need after ten half-hour interviews in heels.

CROQUE MONSIEUR PANINI
Makes one sandwich.

2 slices suitable panini bread: tuscan pane bread, foccacia, anything with a decent crust and crumb
3 Tbsp shredded gruyere cheese
3-4 oz Black Forest ham, thinly sliced (also great with roast beef)
about 7 or so thin spears oven-roasted asparagus (drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt and pepper, and cook at 425-450 F for about 7-8 minutes)
quick garlic mayonnaise

Preheat a panini press on high heat. Spread one side of each bread slice with garlic mayonnaise; season with pepper. On one slice of bread sprinkle 1 Tbsp of the gruyere. Lay the asparagus spears, alternating tips and ends, on top of the cheese. Fold and pile thin slices of the ham on top of the asparagus. Sprinkle with remaining 2 Tbsp cheese. Lay the second slice of bread, mayonnaise side down, on top of the sandwich.
Carefully transfer to heated panini press. Press and hold down on sandwich for about 45 seconds. Release. Keep lid closed to grill both sides for an additional 3-4 minutes, or until sandwich is toasted to your liking. Serve hot or warm.

QUICK GARLIC MAYONNAISE
I read in Joy of Cooking that to simulate the texture of fresh homemade mayonnaise, you can cheat and stir in crème fraiche or sour cream to lighten it. That tip led me to this.

½ c light mayonnaise
½ c light sour cream
6 cloves roasted garlic or to taste

Mix together the mayonnaise and sour cream. Using a blender or immersion/hand-held blender (works great!), blend in the roasted garlic until smooth or nearly smooth and well dispersed. Stir, taste, and repeat with more garlic as desired. Season with salt and pepper if you like. Cover and refrigerate any leftovers. I wouldn't keep this for more than a few days.

News!

Offers of admission: one! Hooray! Days until April 15: 39.

As of last night, I was officially admitted into my first grad program, an Ivy no less, for the social psych Ph.D. And let me tell you: it feels good. It feels very confusing, and hopefully the options will become more clear as the days progress, but it’s very nice to have an option, and a leverage point. It is exciting and anticlimactic all at once: after three interviews, you kind of have an idea of where you might stand, and after all the anxiety and angst of doing applications and then interviews, in a very odd way the admission isn’t so much coveted as is the knowing of what you might be doing and where you might be doing it for the next several years of your life, and since that hasn’t occurred yet one admission is simply a step. Granted, it’s a freaking huge step, and it might be that way just for me. For everyone who has supported me in any sense, from you fellow bloggers’ notes of encouragement here on the blog and for those of you who have heard it all and more in the past years and months, I appreciate it more than I could ever put it in words and deeply regret that I will not be shutting up about it just yet, and thank you for your as-yet infinite kindness and patience.
To celebrate, I went out and bought a new crockpot, the kind that has the removable insert. This isn’t exactly a celebration, as I’ve wanted one every time I use my ancient crockpot that does not have the removable inside, and determined to get one since I saw they were on sale at Target this week, but somehow it feels more deserved and less of an indulgence (it’s a perfectly functional ancient crockpot . . .) when I tell myself it’s because of a celebration. I am also hoping it will distract me from trying to buy a new handbag as a celebration: for all the fashion sense I lack, I have expensive taste in handbags. I also bought a Swiffer, which I've also wanted for some time now, and thought it perfectly justifiable in that now I will have a way to clean the kitchen floor properly after I've made a lovely mess cooking.

I actually made this beef curry Monday night and am only getting around to posting it now, but that’s ok because now I can tell you that yes, you could reheat it in the microwave and it won’t disintegrate, not even the peanuts. I’m not sure I could say truthfully that as in the case of stews or some soups that curry gets any better when you let it sit for a day or two, but in this case it’s so good to begin with and it certainly doesn’t get any less appealing. I had been somewhat worried that the sauce might overpower it, increase in intensity, but if anything I think with the time the spice decreases just a smidgeon and mellows a bit. I don’t find it problematic but you may want to account for it. I adapted this ever-so-slightly from the Thai cookbook (simply called Thai) my mother found for me in a BJ’s store or similar – I had been skeptical with its origins, but it’s actually quite a lovely book. I used flank steak instead of round because I had it in the freezer, cut back on the curry paste and omitted red chilies because I thought it’d be fiery enough, and though there’s a recipe on the next page I used a good jarred curry paste. Though the sauce says ‘sweet’ with the palm sugar, there’s no real sweet taste to this dish, just smooth coconut milk shocked into flavor with the curry. The recipe will take slightly longer than you may anticipate – all right, it took longer than I anticipated – about 40 minutes, so start it after you’ve started some rice and dinner will come together easily. Personally I think it could use more peanuts but other than that I really loved this. Adjust the heat to your liking, and don’t stand over the pot to breathe in the aroma as you stir it; the steam could sting your eyes and nose.

THICK BEEF CURRY IN SWEET PEANUT SAUCE
adapted from Thai by Judy Bastyra

1 13.5-ounce can coconut milk (regular or light)
1-2 Tbsp red curry paste
3 Tbsp Thai fish sauce
2 Tbsp palm sugar or soft light brown sugar
2 lemon grass stalks, brusied
1 lb flank steak, cut into thin strips
3/4 c roasted peanuts, ground or crushed with a mallet

Pour half the coconut milk in a large, heavy pan. Place over medium heat and bring to a boil, stirring constantly until the milk separates. Stir in the curry paste and cook 2-3 minutes until the mixture is fragrant and thoroughly blended. Add the fish sauce, sugar and lemongrass. Mix well.
Continue to cook until the color deepens. Gradually add the remaining coconut milk, stirring constantly. Bring it back to a boil.
Add the beef strips and peanuts. Cook, stirring, for 8-10 minutes or until most of the liquid has evaporated. Remove the lemongrass stalks and serve hot with jasmine rice. Garnish, if you like, with Thai basil or kaffir lime leaves.