I love trying to cook new things and putting my own twist on a tried-and-true recipe. Sometimes, this results in full-fledged disaster; but other times, like Wednesday night, I concocted something that’s pretty much earned “favorite” status in our house.

Sorry in advance that there are no prep or action shots; I really was just making this dish for myself, to see what it would come out like. But, at least I got the beauty shot of the plated, complete dinner – it just looked too good to NOT photograph it!

The stuffed peppers of yore relied on bell peppers filled with a combination of browned ground beef, rice and tomato sauce. I decided to get a bit more adventurous when I spied some frozen leftover ground pork I’d gotten at the Union Square Green Market last week. I also think that the flavors here would really be complemented by meaty Portobello mushrooms, so I am suggesting them as a veggie alternative!

Ingredients:

(serves two)

Stuffed Peppers

2 poblano peppers

¾ lbs ground pork or 2 large Portobello mushroom caps, diced

1 oz salami, chopped

1 tsp garlic powder

1 tsp ground cayenne pepper

Dash salt

Olive oil to coat skillet

½ cup diced white or yellow onion

6-8 dates, cut into pieces

¼ cup bread crumbs

2 ozs crumbled bleu or feta cheese

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cut off the “lids” and stems of the peppers; clean out the insides, discarding seeds. Place peppers in baking dish.

In skillet on medium heat, combine olive oil, spices, onions and pork and salami or Portobellos. Sauté until meat is browned or mushrooms have begun to soften. Empty into medium-sized bowl and add the rest of the ingredients. Stir with spatula to mix well. Spoon mixture into peppers and pack tightly. Bake for 25-30 minutes until peppers begin to soften or to desired tenderness.

The Cilantro Rice is a cinch; just prep enough for two people and add and mix the following to the drained, hot rice:

1 tbsp olive oil

Dash salt

Dash garlic powder

½ cup dried cherries

¼ cup coarsely chopped cilantro

This meal was diiiivine, if I do say so myself, and really something completely different than my usual fare.

More updates soon: Steve and I are headed for farm and field adventures in Essex County, NJ this weekend! Happy Spring!

Something terrible and shocking happened to us last week – our gas stove (and the oven) blew a fuse! It only took a day to get it fixed, but Rachel, who was with me when we discovered the mishap, turned to me and said, “Col, you ought to write a blog about this; for you, not having your stove is like losing a hand!”

And, though it’s taken me more than a week to do so, here I am. My disappointment arriving home after yoga with Steve and Rach and finding my stove and oven dark and quiet was almost like finding a trusty steed off of his feet after throwing a horseshoe.

We had planned a lovely potluck meal that evening, including Rach’s tasty zucchini tian and some odds and ends whipped up from both of our fridges. We made do with take out Japanese, but I was annoyed and upset in a way that made me pause and evaluate my relationship with the stove.

I grew up in the Philadelphia suburbs with two working parents. In fact, until I was 11 or so, my dad worked graveyard shifts. He’d wake up when my brother and I got home from school, eat dinner with us, kiss my mom and us good-bye, and show up early the next morning in time to see us off to school.

But our family always ate dinner together, and dinner was usually a simple but homemade affair. My dad grew up in a large, Irish-Italian Catholic family in southwest Philly; my mom spent most of her childhood in Minnesota.

Needless to say, meals at the Christi abode were full of homey, simple, rich dishes like spaghetti and meatballs, meatloaf or roast beef with mashed potatoes and green beans and broiled chicken with rice.

However, I credit my parents with the spark of creativity I like to bring to my own home cooking. There were a few dishes my mom made that were attempts at blending her Midwestern sensibilities with something more exotic, like a dish we called simply, “steak and beans” but which incorporated the flair of an Asian stir fry, layering browned cubes of top sirloin with Chinese veggies, layered over steamed green beans and white rice.

And even though my parents surely must have been harried and tired after long (and sometimes odd) working hours, my brother and I were always welcome to participate – and thus, slow down the process - in making what went onto the table. My brother would stand, fascinated, next to my dad on summer weekends, watching him turn sizzling juicy legs of barbequed chicken on the grill. I was mom’s “official taste-tester” when she made her famous Macaroni Salad – the secret was in the sauce, which had to be creamy but also tangy.

What I love as an adult home chef is the reciprocal inspiration taking place, as well as the personalization of the recipes I grew up with. My mom’s pan-fried pork chops and gravy are, bar none, the best I’ve ever tasted; but now my brother and I make our own specialized versions: I opt to stick with the gravy but add fresh mushrooms; he pan fries them with onions and peppers, creating a thinner but tasty au jus.

But what makes me proud is cooking for my parents; giving them an experience that I likely would not be able to had they not been so generous with their limited time when I was younger. It makes me smile when things like roasted Brussels sprouts or fresh pork burgers make their way into my parents’ cooking repertoire, because they tasted them first at my table.

I find it very depressing that so many young people have no idea how to cook, that many meals in the U.S. are heated up or brought home in cardboard boxes or greasy paper bags.  That my parents passed on this skill to me, which I think is as important as looking both ways when you cross the street and never talking to strangers, is something I will be eternally grateful for.

Life can seem overwhelmingly busy, with kids or without, with jobs, friends, spouses and other obligations, but I find it very important to maintain at least a friendly speaking relationship with the stove. It’s a place not only to reconnect with your health, and with the food you eat, but with family. And what can be more important than that?

Thursday night wound up being a really lovely evening, despite the fact that, though it was raining in midtown when I left my office, when I came up the PATH stairs, I found downtown Jersey City slipping and sliding in 6 inches of snow.

Steve and I had plans to meet our friend and most frequent dinner guest, Rachel, at our amazing local yoga studio, Yoga Shunya (www.yogashunya.com). The weather must have intimidated potential yogis that night, because the typically packed class wound up being just the three of us and the instructor and studio owner, Elaine.

After a particularly energetic and shoulder-opening class, we headed back to the apartment for a quick, late dinner. Rach was already on the guest list, and we asked Elaine if she’d liked to join us. When I mentioned “shrimp tacos” she seemed game.

The quintessential Mexican utensil-free “sandwich”, the taco’s been around the Americas for a very long time, and predates the Europeans encroachment on the continent's shores. Traditionally made by filling a soft corn or whole wheat tortilla with a variety of meats and vegetables, the taco is really as diverse as a chef or home cook’s imagination and what’s available in the fridge.

I love the lightness of shrimp or fish tacos in the summer or when I’m eating dinner on the late side, but the below recipe is very easily adaptable to chicken or slices of lean beef, like top round. If using beef, I would suggest a sharper cheese and possibly adding sauteed onions, to off-set the fuller flavor. You can also modify this recipe by throwing all of the ingredients over mixed greens or raw spinach for a refreshing “taco salad”.

I specifically wanted to make these tacos because I had some of my friend Dana’s delicious guacamole leftover from a small get-together we had last week. Her "perfect" recipe follows the taco recipe.

Shrimp Tacos with Dana B’s Great Guac

Tacos:

(Serves 4, 2 tacos each – ok, Steve got 3!)

1 lb medium shrimp, raw, peeled and deveined (I always use U.S. wild shrimp, the most sustainable type)

1 red bell pepper, seeded and chopped

1-2 tsps garlic powder

1-2 tsps ground cayenne pepper

1 tsp olive oil, to coat the skillet

2-3 sprigs fresh cilantro, chopped

4-5 oz fresh soft goat cheese, such as Petit Billy

2-3 ozs greens, such as arugula or baby spinach

Coat bottom of skillet with olive oil, add shrimp and spices. Once shrimp begin to pinken, add red peppers. This will create “al dente” peppers – if you like your peppers a bit softer, add with the shrimp.

Shrimp are done once they are completely pink and curled up. Add cilantro to skillet once hot ingredients are cooked, so it simply wilts.

Build tacos by adding greens to corn tortillas. Layer on 2-3 shrimp and peppers; top with crumbles of goat cheese and a hefty teaspoon of guac. Enjoy!

Dana B’s Great Guacamole Recipe

(Makes the perfect amount – LOTS!)

6 avocados
2 limes, zested and juiced
4 shallots, minced
3 jalapenos, seeded and minced

1 big handful of cilantro, leaves and some stems, minced
A dash of crushed salt

couple grinds of freshly cracked black pepper

Prep your lime zest, lime juice, shallots, jalapenos and cilantro. 

Scoop the avocados into a large bowl and pour on the lime juice to keep the avocados green. Add the rest of the ingredients, smash with a potato masher (or two forks) until desired consistency.  Serve. 

I will admit now that this guacamole is so delicious, after our tacos were gone, the four of use warmed tortillas to make “guac tacos” with the rest of Dana’s spoils. Once you try this recipe, you won’t blame us!