My "Che-tory" Soup

No, che-tory is not a fancy wild green you've never heard of. It's an attempt to phonetically spell the Persian word for "health."

You see, later this week I need to wear a strapless bridesmaid dress. So, it's time to get out the arm weights, stop eating steak and cake (see last two posts), and whip up some of this sinless soup, bright with flavors of fresh herbs and lime juice. The recipe has evolved under the influence of my mother-in-law as well as the Persian cooking authority Najmieh Batmanglij, author of Persian Cooking for a Healthy Kitchen (Mage Publishers, 1994) among other titles.

Persians use copious amounts of parsley, dill, mint and other herbs in their cooking, treating them more like vegetables than garnishes. For example, the popular dish Kohresh-e qormeh sabzi is a green casserole of lamb and kidney beans covered with fresh parsley, cilantro and chives along with olive oil, onion, garlic, saffron, turmeric, dried limes and lime juice. The first time I ate it, I thought it must also contain a leafy green such as spinach or chard because I wasn't accustomed to cooking with herbs in such large quantities. But why not? The key is to grow your own, which most Persian I know do, rather than buying those little 1-ounce plastic containers in the produce department that cost upwards of $3.

Nearly every Persian dinner I've ever eaten starts with Nan-o panir-o sabzi-khordan -- that's bread (usually pita or lavash) and feta cheese with radishes, herbs (usually basil, parsley, dill and mint) and nuts (usually walnuts that have been soaked in water to take away the bitterness).

The soup -- or ahsh, as Persians would call it -- is influenced by both of these examples, and Dara and I love to eat it warm, drizzled with plain yogurt and olive oil. If you want to show off, you can serve it and say, Noosh-e jan! That's the Persian version of bon appetit.

MY "CHE-TORY" SOUP

Serves 6 as a starter

2 tablespoons olive oil

1/2 white onion, diced

1 bunch scallions, chopped

2 teaspoons garlic, minced

1 teaspoon kosher salt + more to taste

1 cup green lentils, rinsed and picked over

4 cups vegetable broth or chicken broth + more as needed

6 ounces fresh parsley

4 ounces fresh cilantro

4 ounces fresh dill

3 ounces fresh mint leaves

Juice of 4-6 medium-sized limes

1 cup cooked cracked wheat, barley or quinoa (optional)

Plain yogurt and extra-virgin olive oil to garnish

Heat olive oil in a medium saucepan. Add onion and cover; let sweat on low heat until the onion is translucent. Add scallions, garlic and salt and increase heat to medium; saute until garlic is fragrant and white onion begins to caramelize. Add lentils and broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low and cover; cook about 30 minutes, until lentils are tender. Meanwhile, cut off big stems from parsley, cilantro and dill.

Combine lentil mixture, fresh herbs and juice of 4 limes to a food processor, and blend until fairly smooth, as shown in the photo above. Taste and add more lime juice and salt as needed; it should really have some zing. Stir in cooked cracked wheat, barley or quinoa if desired to make the soup more substantial, or simply drizzle it with plain yogurt and olive oil and serve it with warm whole-wheat bread.

Steak & Tater Night

Sometimes there is nothing so satisfying as a juicy rib-eye with lots of salt, and roasted red potatoes with lots of olive oil and fresh basil. Yummers.

Happy Birthday, Anna-Marie!

It's not exactly "seasonal," but Pink Champagne Cake is a fluffy-licious birthday option for anyone who likes pale pink, vanilla beans, raspberries and sparkling wine.

The flavor is deeply nostalgic for many who grew up eating bakery birthday cakes. After some online research, I concluded it needed to be made with white cake mix, which carries a mysterious, artificial yet appealing vanilla-almond-cherry taste that's difficult if not impossible to replicate quite perfectly in a scratch cake. Pretty up the mix with Sofia Blanc de Blancs, vanilla beans, fluffy butter frosting and fresh raspberries, and the humble transforms to high-end. Is this the next Red Velvet?

PINK CHAMPAGNE CAKE WITH FLUFFY BUTTER FROSTING

Makes one 8-inch, 2-layer cake

1 (18.25 ounce) box Duncan Hines Moist Deluxe Classic White Cake premium cake mix (it's apparently important not to use a mix with pudding in it)

1 1/3 cups sparkling wine (I bought a 4-pack of Sofia Blanc de Blancs in cans -- it's cheaper than opening a bottle of similar quality, and after you're done making the cake and the frosting, you'll still have 2 cans to spare)

2 tablespoons vegetable oil

3 large egg whites

Seeds scraped from 1/2 vanilla bean

3-4 drops red gel food coloring

1 recipe Fluffy Butter Frosting

1 pint fresh raspberries

Preheat oven to 350 F. Butter and flour two metal 8-inch cake pans. Blend together cake mix, sparkling wine, oil, egg whites and vanilla seeds in a large bowl at low speed until moistened, about 30 seconds. Beat at medium speed for 2 minutes. Add food coloring to achieve desired pink color. Pour batter into prepared pans and bake immediately for 32-25 minutes, or until a tester comes out clean. Meanwhile make Fluffy Butter Frosting and cut the raspberries in half lengthwise.

Let the cake layers cool for a few minutes in their pans, and then turn them out onto metal racks to cool completely.* Use a serrated knife to slice the tops off each cake layer, so they won't be shaped like domes. Place the bottom cake layer on a cake stand or serving platter, and surround it underneath with a few small pieces of waxed paper, so you'll be able to pull them away when you're done frosting.

Place a big scoop of frosting on this bottom layer, and use an offset spatula to spread it evenly to the sides.

Place about 1/2 cup of frosting in a piping bag with a large, round tip. (If you don't have cake decorating tools, just place it in a heavyweight plastic zippered bag and cut a slit in the corner for piping). Pipe around the perimeter of this bottom layer, making a little bordered pool in which the raspberries will sit and not escape.Place about 2/3 of the raspberry halves in the pool, and top with just a smidge more frosting.

Now you're ready for the top layer. Turn it upside down, so the golden brown side is on top, and place it on the bottom layer and the raspberry pool. Place a big scoop of frosting on top of the cake, and spread it evenly. Place big dollops of frosting on the sides and frost upwards, meeting the top layer of frosting. (At this point you'll have a homey-looking frosted cake like mine. To make the frosting look smoother, refrigerate the cake for at least a half hour, and smooth it out using a spatula you've held over the gas flame on the stove for a while so that it's warm.)

Decorate the cake with the remaining berries, and serve.

*At this point, you could wrap each layer tightly in plastic and freeze it for up to a week. Many people prefer to do this, as cakes freeze well and are easier to decorate when they are frozen. However, I usually do not have such foresight, and I find this cake fairly resilient and easy to decorate without freezing it first.

For Fluffy Butter Frosting:

1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature

8-9 cups confectioners sugar, divided

1/4 cup milk (use whatever fat level you're comfortable with)

1/4 cup sparkling wine

1 tablespoon vanilla extract

Seeds scraped from 1/2 vanilla bean

1/8 teaspoon kosher salt

About 3 drops red food coloring

Beat butter until fluffy. Add 4 cups confectioners sugar and pulse to blend. Beat on high speed until fluffy. Add milk, wine, vanilla extract, vanilla seeds and salt; pulse to blend, and then beat on high speed until fluffy. Add 4 more cups confectioners sugar and pulse to blend. Beat on high speed until fluffy. Beat in 1 more cup of confectioners sugar if you'd like a stiffer texture. Add food coloring to achieve desired pink color. Frost cake while the frosting is at room temperature.

Steamed Garlic Spears

Think asparagus is the only slender, tender reed that epitomizes spring? Here is another option to consider.

These are local garlic spears, the flower tops from elephant garlic. Prior to buying them last week, I was unfamiliar with them, and expected them to be strongly flavored like ramps or salad onions. Instead, they have a very mild garlic flavor and are more reminiscent of asparagus or fiddlehead ferns.

Their labels instructed me to steam them for 3-5 minutes, which I did, tossing them with asparagus (steamed separately for a bit longer) as well as lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper. They were delicious enough that I've since bought a second batch. I think I may steam the spears again, and this time slice them and toss them with pappardelle, peas and goat cheese or ricotta.

Sweet & Spicy Braised Spareribs

"Dara, use this cookbook to make the ribs. This guy is the most respected barbecuing expert in all of Canada."

I know. It sounds like a joke or something. No offense to you Canadians -- now just a short drive from my doorstep -- but you're not exactly known for barbecue. Maple syrup, sure. Poutine, heck yeah. Whiskey, bring it on. Arcade Fire, I love every single one of you guys. And Jim Carrey, even though you haven't done much lately other than break up with Jenny McCarthy, your subtle yet unnervingly intense performance in the 2005 Oscar-winning Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind stayed with me for weeks. I just don't picture you barbecuing.

The truth is that I got the Canadian cookbook free through work. And it turns out that its author, Ted Reader, sure as sticky fingers getting licked knows what he's talking about. This "King of the Q" taught us a rib method that's so delicious and foolproof, we should just pretend it's American.

Reader himself says, "I started out like many, boiling and steaming, but I was never satisfied with the results. I sensed the ultimate rib was still out there. Then I met a guy named..."

Blah Blah. (God, Canadians are so boring.) Anyway, what he's saying is that you should braise them! That means rubbing them with seasoning, putting them in a roasting pan in a 325 F oven, pouring some liquid over them, and cooking them covered for a couple of hours until the meat is as tender as an Alanis Morisette song.

And if it doesn't work out? Blame Canada.

SWEET & SPICY BRAISED SPARERIBS

Dara developed his own spice rub and braising liquid, and then used Ted Reader's recommended cooking method. For more great barbecuing tricks from our neighbor to the north, see Ted's King of the Q's Blue Plate BBQ: The Ultimate Guide to Grilling, Smoking, Dipping and Licking (Penguin Group, 2007).

Serves 8

4 to 5 pounds pork spareribs

1 recipe Rib Rub (see below)

1/2 large red onion, thinly sliced

1 bottle favorite pilsner

1 cup orange juice

Few dashes Worcestershire sauce

1 tablespoon double-concentrated tomato paste (we buy it in a tube)

Favorite bottled BBQ sauce (optional)

Preheat oven to 325 F. Remove the membrane (also called a silverskin) from the back of the rack of ribs by wedging a knife between the membrane and one of the rib bones and separate the two enough to stick your finger in the gap; then, gently loosen it and pull it off completely.

Rub ribs with rib rub. Place them in a roasting pan, meat side down and overlapping. Top with red onion. Whisk together pilsner, juice, Worcestershire sauce and tomato paste in a medium bowl and pour over ribs. Cover with foil and braise about 2 1/2 hours, until meat is tender. Serve with bottled BBQ sauce if desired.

For Rib Rub:

4 tablespoons light brown sugar

3 tablespoons mild paprika

2 tablespoons garlic powder

2 tablespoons mustard powder

2 tablespoons chipotle chili powder (this is very spicy -- wash your hands after using it)

1 tablespoon coarsely ground black pepper

1 tablespoon kosher salt

Combine all ingredients in a bowl. Push the mixture through a metal sieve to get out the lumps, and store tightly covered until ready to use.

Creamy Cheddar Grits and Red Cabbage Slaw

For this past weekend's BBQ, I wanted to go a bit Italian in theme, perhaps with some creamy polenta and sauteed radicchio to accompany our chicken and ribs. But Dara reminded me I don't actually like cooked radicchio; I just like the idea of it.* I grumbled and acquiesced, and then developed a Southern take on my creamy corn and crunchy cabbage cravings instead: Cheddar Grits and Red Cabbage Slaw.

It's a funny thing how Italian food and Southern food have more similarities than you might think. Alton Brown once did a very Alton Brown-esque episode of his show, "Good Eats," on the difference between polenta and grits. You know -- brightly lit, not very subtle actors were involved, one as a dumb Southerner who loves cheesy grits, and one as a dumb Italian who loves cheesy polenta. The two used thick accents and lots of hand gestures to argue over which was better, and then agreed the two are very similar and both are good.

If you're more familiar with one or the other, this is basically the difference:

- The color of the cornmeal (yellow for polenta vs. white for grits)

- The liquid used (broth vs. water and/or milk)

- And the method (constant whisking until the mass pulls away from the sides of the pot vs. occasional whisking just until the mixture is creamy and smooth)

To make our grits seem more "Northwest" rather than Southern, I used a good-quality local Cheddar and some chives from our garden.

The slaw turned out really well, too, with crisp apples, thinly sliced red onion, toasted walnuts, golden raisins, and a dressing of raspberry vinegar, brown sugar and salt. Really, how can you go wrong? The sweetness and crunch is a nice contrast to smoky meat and creamy grits.

*The same goes for Campari -- another bitter, red, Italian substance. Several years ago I got fixed up on a sort of professional friend date with Amanda Hesser, the New York Times food writer. She took me to this swanky hotel lobby with mysterious curtains everywhere, and she ordered a Campari and soda. I thought she was so cool that ever since then, I try every three or four years to order that drink. I still can never choke it down, and have come to terms with the fact that I will never be as sophisticated as Amanda Hesser was at age 24.

CREAMY CHEDDAR GRITS

Serves 8-10; this recipe may be halved.

1 quart milk (use whatever fat level you're comfortable with)

3 teaspoons kosher salt

2 cups medium ground white cornmeal (use regular as opposed to stone-ground)

1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter

8 ounces sharp Cheddar cheese, shredded

15-20 fresh chives, minced

Place the milk and salt in a large pot and bring to a simmer. Slowly whisk in cornmeal, then turn heat to low and cover. Cook 20 to 25 minutes, whisking occasionally, until the mixture is creamy and smooth. Stir in butter and let it melt; then stir in cheese and let it melt. Stir in chives and serve immediately. Or, if timing requires that you simply must make this dish in advance, keep it refrigerated and plan to spend some time reheating it on the stove and whisking in some more milk to get it soft and smooth again.

RED CABBAGE SLAW WITH APPLES & GOLDEN RAISINS

Serves 8-10; this recipe may be halved.

2 crisp apples (I like Pink Lady and Honeycrisp), cored and cut into a large dice

Juice of 1/2 lemon

1 small to medium head red cabbage, thinly sliced

1/4 large red onion, thinly sliced

1/2 cup golden raisins

1/2 cup toasted walnut pieces (optional)

1 cup raspberry vinegar

1 cup light brown sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon coarsely ground black pepper

Dress apples with lemon juice, and then combine them with cabbage, onion, golden raisins and optional walnuts in a large lidded plastic storage container. Whisk together vinegar, brown sugar, salt and pepper and pour it over the cabbage mixture. Close the storage container and give it a gentle shake to dress the slaw. Refrigerate for at least an hour, shaking a couple of times, and serve cold.

Memorial Day Weekend Is for BBQing. Period!

This, my friends, is a picture of Chloe the dog and me taking a ferry to Bainbridge Island on Saturday for a nice, beachy day trip. Notice the Gore-Tex jacket, the scarf and the ski hat? True, it was a bit cooler and wetter in the Seattle area this weekend than in most parts of the country.

As Dara and I thought about our friends in Chicago enjoying 90 degree heat and the four Bs (burgers, brats, beer and bags*), we knew we needed to keep calm and carry on. We needed to have a barbecue, too, darn it. Because that's what you do on Memorial Day weekend.

So on Sunday, a lovely group of 11 gathered at our house. There was 'Lil Sista and her fiancee, Dan; Chicago transplant Tamara, along with her husband Kevin and their adorable, toddling, plump-cheeked, cat-grabbing daughter Avery; Caroline and David, two more friends from Chicago who coincidentally moved here the same weekend we did; and the affable Ambika and Paul, friends of Caroline and David whom we just met.

We ate inside, of course...at our long, dark dining room table by candlelight. Not exactly what I had in mind for May 30, but it was cozy and fun, with lots of laughing and a colorful menu that featured many of the goods this wet climate is so good at producing -- if I may say so, a formidable rival to the four Bs.

*"Bags" is a colloquial term for a game called Cornhole or Corn Toss, which has become increasingly popular in Chicago backyards and alleys. (Personally, I say "bags" so I don't have to say "Cornhole.") The object of the game is to toss as many bags as possible into a hole. Said to have originated in Germany in the 14th century and revived in Kentucky and southern Ohio, it may be played with one hand while holding a beer in the other. For more information, visit the American Cornhole Association at www.playcornhole.org.

MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND BBQ MENU

Bar snacks:

-Sesame popcorn

-Salted peanuts

Buffet:

- Sweet & spicy braised pork ribs

- Herbed grilled chicken

- Cheddar and chive grits

- Red cabbage slaw with apples, red onion, golden raisins and a raspberry vinegar dressing

- Steamed asparagus and garlic shoots, served chilled and dressed lightly with olive oil and lime juice

Dessert:

- Lemon chiffon cake with whipped cream frosting & rhubarb compote

I'll elaborate more on each dish throughout the week. To start, life is short so let's talk about the cake.

I always come back to chiffon cake because it's perfect after a meal. It's light like an angel food cake, yet richer and not as sweet. It's airy like a sponge cake, but moister. This one is brightly flavored with lemon juice and lemon zest. (Meyer lemon juice and zest would taste even better.) I frosted it simply with whipped cream sweetened and colored with a reduction of rhubarb syrup from the accompanying compote.

LEMON CHIFFON CAKE WITH WHIPPED CREAM FROSTING & RHUBARB COMPOTE

This is the basic lemon chiffon cake recipe from Fine Cooking magazine's April/May 2000 issue, but the rhubarb extras are a new addition. Like an angel food cake, a chiffon cake requires an ungreased tube pan -- that's the donut-shaped round pan with high sides. While baking, the batter climbs and sides and sticks to them. Removing the cake from the oven, you want to invert the pan onto a wine bottle and let it cool that way, so it doesn't sink.

Serves 12-14

9 ounces (2 1/4 cups) cake flour

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup vegetable oil (like canola or corn)

7 large eggs, separated

1/2 cup water

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

1 1/2 teaspoons grated lemon zest

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 recipe Rhubarb Compote (see below)

1 recipe Rhubarb Whipped Cream Frosting (see below)

Preheat oven to 325 F. Have ready a 10-inch tube pan with sides at least 3 3/4 inches high.

In a large bowl, sift together the cake flour, 1 cup sugar, baking powder and salt. Make a well in the center of the flour mixture and add oil, egg yolks, water, lemon juice, lemon zest and vanilla extract. Beat the mixture on medium speed for 3 minutes, until smooth and thick. Set aside.

In a large, clean bowl with clean beaters or a whisk attachment, whisk egg whites and cream of tartar on medium speed until whites are foamy. Increase the speed to high and beat the whites until the movement of the beaters forms lines in the mixture. Slowly pour in the remaining 1/2 cup sugar, about 2 tablespoons at a time, and beat the mixture until peaks are still but not dry.

With a large rubber spatula, stir about one-third of the egg whites into the yolk mixture. Gently fold in the remaining egg whites until no white steaks remain. Pour the batter into the ungreased tube pan, spreading it evenly. Bake until you can gently press your fingers on top of the cake and it feels firm, about 1 hour and 10 minutes. Any cracks that form on top should appear dry.

Invert the pan onto a bottle with a narrow neck (such as a wine bottle) and cool thoroughly, about an hour and a half. Use a thin metal spatula or knife to loosen the cake from the sides of the pan and the center of the tube. Remove the cake from the pan and slide it onto a serving plate. Frost cake with whipped cream frosting and refrigerate it until ready to serve; to be sure that flavors of garlic and ribs don't mix with the frosting, cover the cake and its plate with a large bowl before you place it in the fridge.

When slicing the cake, serve each slice with a spoonful or two of rhubarb compote.

For Rhubarb Compote:

6 stalks rhubarb, trimmed and cut into a large dice

2 cups sugar

2 cups water

Place all ingredients in a saucepan and bring to a simmer; turn heat to low and simmer gently, uncovered, just until the rhubarb is tender but not falling apart. Use a slotted spoon to remove the rhubarb from the liquid; refrigerate the compote until ready to use. Boil the liquid until reduced until a thick, deep red syrup -- you'll need about 6 tablespoons. Strain this and use it to flavor and color the whipped cream frosting.

For Rhubarb Whipped Cream Frosting:

2 cups whipping cream

About 6 tablespoons reserved thick rhubarb syrup, cooled

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

A few drops red food coloring if desired

Place whipping cream, rhubarb syrup and vanilla extract in a bowl and beat with a whisk attachment until soft peaks form. Add a few drips red food coloring if it's not quite saying "rhubarb" to you yet.