There's a Mexican restaurant in town that is fairly close to the apartment I used to live in, and about halfway between that apartment and work, which means I was there quite a bit. (You know, before I decided to branch out and eat at other ... Mexican restaurants.)

My people eat a lot of Mexican food.

It was just the right combination of cheap and trashy, but the margaritas were always on special, the salsa was jammed with cilantro, and the food gave the impression that someone in the kitchen really cared about what s/he was doing.

For a while the restaurant closed, when someone tried to turn the strip mall it's in into residences, but when that venture failed it miraculously returned! Unfortunately it's been a little fancified, replacing some of its lovable cheap trashiness with dimmer lighting and the rumbling cacophony of Other People's Children, and we haven't made it to the new incarnation with the same frequency. When the magic of sticky tables and puckery margarita mix and green carpet–covered floors has passed, it has passed.

Still, even in a town with a Mexican restaurant on nearly every corner (and Birmingham certainly applies as one of those cities), it can sometimes be difficult to find menu items outside of the box of the usual tacos, burritos, and nachos—also known as the holy trinity, amen.

I am not here to undermine the many, many wonderful attributes of tacos and burritos and nachos, but sometimes it is nice to break free of those flavor profiles. And the dish I always ordered at Mexico Lindo was the pollo adobo (which seems to have been renamed the pueblo lunch): "black beans topped with chicken in hot adobo, onions & queso fresco."

At Lindo they serve the dish in a wide, shallow bowl, lined with a flour tortilla to soak up the beans and the smoky broth, and topped with a light sprinkle of cheese and charred green onions.

There are a lot of alterations to that basic idea here—I am, as you can see, not a girl with a talent for light sprinkling where cheese is concerned. That's Monterey Jack, too, because my market didn't have any queso fresco. I also shredded the chicken, as opposed to crisping chunks of it on the flat top, the way it's served in the restaurant version. Because I'd gotten home from work pretty late this day, I picked up a rotisserie chicken and shredded it into the broth, but really any kind of protein you like would work here. (I have a dream that involves chargrilled shrimp.)

There's avocado here because I love it, and the signature grilled onions. I just placed mine in a dry grill pan until they developed some nice marks, the white ends got tender, and the green tips turned crispy.

I would add two chipotle peppers first, simmer, and then taste. If you like things a little smokier/spicier, feel free to add more! I dipped in about a teaspoon of extra adobo sauce at the end for a little kick. You can season as you go, too—I try to keep an eye on my salt intake when I'm cooking for myself, so I seasoned at the end so that I didn't layer too much on as I went. Start with 2 cups of water, and then add if you feel like things start to dry out. I started with 3 and found the results slightly soupier than I'd planned on.

I like to dip the green onions into the sauce and then eat them like Twizzlers, but for leftovers I simply chopped them up and stirred them in. They add just the right hit of mild, grassy crunch for the warm broth, creamy beans, hearty chicken, and smooth avocado.

¡Buen provecho!


Pollo Adobo (Smoky Jalapeño Chicken)

2 cans reduced sodium black beans, drained and rinsed
1 tablespoon olive oil
½ red onion, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
1 bay leaf
2 chipotle peppers in adobo sauce, finely chopped
1 teaspoon adobo sauce
2 rotisserie chicken breasts, shredded
1 bunch green onions, trimmed
4 taco-size flour tortillas
Salt, to taste
Black pepper, to taste
1 avocado, sliced
4 ounces Monterey Jack cheese, shredded

1. Place half of beans in a food processor with about ¼ cup water; puree until smooth.

2. Heat oil in a stockpot over medium heat; add onion, and cook 5 minutes or until translucent. Stir in garlic, oregano, and bay leaf; cook 1 minute. Stir in chopped chipotle peppers and adobo sauce; cook 30 seconds. Stir in chicken, coating with sauce. Stir in whole beans, reserved bean purée, and 2 cups water; bring to a boil, cover, and simmer 20 minutes or until slightly thickened. (Stir in additional water if mixture becomes too thick.)
 
3. Meanwhile, heat grill pan over medium heat until hot. Grill green onions, turning occasionally, 8 minutes or until tender. Remove from heat, and set aside.

4. Season chicken mixture with salt and black pepper to taste; stir in additional adobo sauce or chipotle peppers, if desired. Remove bay leaves, and discard.

5. Heat tortillas in a microwave oven on HIGH 10 seconds. Line serving bowls with tortillas, and top with chicken mixture. Top evenly with cheese, avocado slices, and reserved grilled green onions. Makes 4 servings.

 

This is sheer comfort food, my people.

But first, I feel compelled to do a little proppy shout-out: My sister got me that bangin' orange spoon (part of a colorful set I adore); the seersucker fabric and the Anthropologie canister (bringing my total canister count to nine, because I am insane) were loot from Coastal Living prop sales; and as a last-minute thought because my "living herbs" thyme was attached to a healthy-but-ugly root ball, I shoved it into a beautiful gold mortar from my friend Jenny. The board was a hand-me-down from my dad, and the bowl is of course (of course) a treasured gift from my gramma.

And that little commercial break was courtesy of the fact that every piece reminds me of a person I love or a fond memory, even if that fond memory was just buying something pricey for a sweet sweet deal.

Now, back to the comfort food!

I wasn't in any particular need for comfort last night, for which I am grateful, but it was officially October, and I wanted something that said, fall is here even if the temperatures outside still hover in the late-summer region.

This also was originally intended to be vegetarian, but something about the super-lean beef just called out to me. It's simple enough to just omit and have a lovely meat-free option if that's your druthers. And speaking of super-lean, this beef was just 7 percent fat, so I had to add a little oil to the pan before sautéing my veggies. If your beef is chunkier, you can just drain all but a tablespoon or so of the fat away, and then use that for even meatier flavor.

You can simmer the lentils and vegetables in water if you like, but I used beef broth in this case. If you follow my lead, go really easy on the salt until everything has had a chance to cook completely. It can be tough to judge the saltiness of the broth you're using before then. After that, you can just salt to taste!

I pureed about half the soup with my immersion blender before I stirred the beef in. I liked the thickening effect, but still having some bite to the lentils. It's a completely optional step, though—this will taste lovely either way.

The potato puffs (hat tip to my friend Julie, who gave me the alternative to calling them "balls") were cheesy, herby little clouds that melted into the stew. You just want to put them into the pan over a gentle heat and let them develop a nice golden brownness on one or two sides—they're delicate, so they can fall apart in a heap if you try to move them around too much. And keep an eye on them: When they are just warmed through and kissed with butter, they're perfect.

It occurred to me after I inhaled a bowl of this in less than a minute or so that it's really almost a deconstructed shepherd's pie—there's the hearty meatiness and the stick-to-your-ribs veggieness and the earthy herbiness and, well, potatoes. If you're on the go, you can serve the stew with whatever quick potatoes you like. Just make sure they're kissed with butter, obvs.

Just before I plated this up (and I absolutely love it when this happens), I decided there was something about the symmetry of the potatoes that was bugging me, so I plopped a big old dollop of sour cream in the middle out of nowhere. When it was time to eat, I realized that it's absolutely essential to the flavor here—tangy and bright and cooling and perfect with the potatoes. So if you do decide to replicate this for dinner this week, don't omit the sour cream! It's just that extra oomph that's totally worthwhile.

I had a little sour cream in my fridge at home, which is how that impromptu decision came to be made, but other than a few cloves of garlic I bought everything else at the store, and came out with at least six servings for less than $20. Healthy, delicious, and smart: jackpot!

Enjoy!


Beef-and-Lentil Stew with Romano Potato Puffs

1 pound extra-lean ground beef (93% lean)
Kosher salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1 tablespoon canola oil
1 cup diced yellow onion
½ cup diced carrot
½ cup diced celery
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 cup dried lentils
1 teaspoon dried crushed red pepper
6 fresh thyme sprigs
1 bay leaf
4 cups low-sodium, fat-free beef broth
Romano Potato Puffs (recipe below)
Garnishes: sour cream, fresh thyme leaves

1. Place beef in a stockpot over medium-high heat; sprinkle with kosher salt and black pepper, and cook, stirring occasionally, 5 minutes or until browned and cooked through. Transfer beef to a bowl, and set aside.

2. Return pot to stove over medium heat; add canola oil, onion, and carrot. Cook 3 minutes or until onions are softened. Add celery and garlic, and cook 2 more minutes. Stir in lentils and next 3 ingredients, and stir until combined. Stir in beef broth, and bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat, and simmer 45 minutes or until lentils are tender.

3. Remove thyme stems and bay leaves from lentil mixture. Puree about half the lentil mixture using an immersion blender (or transfer a few cups to a traditional blender, and puree until smooth). Stir in reserved beef until heated through. Serve stew with Romano Potato Puffs, and garnish, if desired. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

Romano Potato Puffs

2 medium russet potatoes, chopped
¼ cup shredded Romano cheese
Salt, to taste
Black pepper, to taste
Fresh thyme leaves (optional)
1 teaspoon olive oil
1 teaspoon butter

1. Place potatoes in cold water to cover in a medium pot; bring water to a boil and cook about 12 minutes or until potatoes are fork-tender. Drain potatoes well and return to pot.

2. Mash potatoes with cheese and salt and pepper to taste. Stir in thyme, if desired. Shape mixture into 1-inch balls. (Mixture will be dry.)

3. Heat butter and oil in a small skillet over medium-low heat until butter is melted. Cook puffs in butter mixture 1 to 2 minutes or just until heated through and golden brown on 1 or 2 sides. (Handle very carefully when turning puffs in the pan.) Serve immediately. Makes 6 to 8 servings.

 

Look, Ma! Veggies!

See way there in the back, where the chicken is all snuggled up under the orzo blanket? Yes, that's leftover makeover right there. But the chicken is really just an understudy in this case—the orzo is the star.

(Note to self: Begin manufacture of orzo blankets ASAP.)

I decided to cook the orzo risotto style, as opposed to in the traditional manner, because I hoped it would help the results be starchier and creamier—I wanted this to be a cheesy orzo but I didn't want to make a béchamel. (The only dairy in my refrigerator was buttermilk, and that seemed like a gamble.)

Spoiler alert: It works! I used the broth I had in the cabinet, which happened to be vegetable broth. Which for no particularly reason I'm going to disclose that I think vegetable broth tastes just dandy but smells really strange. I'll just leave that little fact here for you even though it's of no use to anyone at all.

I could have roasted the broccoli to give it a little oomph in the flavor department, but I rather liked the way this all came together as a one-pot wonder, and letting it cook slowly in the orzo meant that it kept its bright green color and still turned out tender but toothsome.

I think the red onion is a nice pop of color here, but any sort of onion will work just fine; it was just what I had on hand. I added dried crushed red pepper, but for kids or people who prefer a sort of unadulterated mac and cheese, you can leave it out altogether.

When I posted a shot of this on Instagram last night, the response was swift—I think orzo is just one of those universally beloved things. Who could believe it all came together in less than 20 minutes?

Twenty-two minutes if you stop to open a bottle of wine and pour yourself a glass or three. Which I recommend.

Enjoy!


Cheesy Broccoli and Orzo "Risotto"

6 cups vegetable broth or chicken broth
2 tablespoons olive oil
½ large red onion, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
4 cups broccoli florets
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Dried crushed red pepper (optional)
1½ cups dried orzo
4 ounces shredded Cheddar cheese
¼ cup heavy cream

1. Bring broth to a simmer over medium heat; keep warm over low heat.

2. Heat olive oil in a large, deep skillet over medium heat; add onions and cook, stirring, until onions are translucent. Stir in garlic; cook 1 minute. Stir in broccoli, and sprinkle with salt, black pepper, and red pepper, if desired. Cook 1 minute.

3. Stir orzo into broccoli, and cook 1 to 2 minutes or until lightly toasted. Ladle about ½ cup broth into pan; cook, stirring constantly, until liquid is absorbed. Repeat with remaining broth, and cook 8 to 10 minutes, adding broth ½ cup at a time as needed until orzo is al dente and broccoli is tender.

4. Reduce heat to low, and stir in cheese and cream. Makes 4 servings.

 

It's a brilliantly cool August Saturday in Alabama (what?), and I'm sitting on the couch watching Ina make grilled cheese sandwiches. "I've got just a very simple Pullman loaf ... Good bakery loaf—not, like, the stuff from the grocery store."

She's the most cheerful snob I know.

I have always loved my neighborhood Winn-Dixie grocery store, thank you very much, but I have to admit that when it underwent a floor-to-ceiling overhaul about a year ago, I wasn't terribly thrilled. I didn't want to lose the great Asian food stocks, my treasured self-checkout lanes (no human interaction! my favorite!), and my beloved solitude (a theme develops). I was quite often, at any time of day, absolutely the only person in there, which may tell you a little something about why the powers that be at the W-D decided the place needed a spruce-up in the first place. Everyone was flocking to Publix, that vast wasteland of crowded produce sections and employees too intensely fascinated with WHAT ARE YOU MAKING WITH THIS?, and that was A-OK by me. More quiet browsing for me around the corner. The Winn-Dixie aisles became my hallowed library halls.

But when the store decided it just had to bring itself into this decade, I was nervous. Our relationship was going so well; why did things have to change??

Like any good stubborn person, I found that the results were just (SNIFF!) as I expected. The parking lot began to fill, nobody ever stocked the fish sauce, and why in the world was the bread aisle now frozen-section-adjacent?

But over time, I've come around. (And it only took a year! Who's flexible and easygoing?) For one thing, the self-checkout remains, so I didn't have to entertain a deal breaker. For another, I've recently discovered the benefits of having access to an honest-to-god bakery. (Yes, Ina, in my grocery store.)

If there's one thing you should know about me, besides that I can write six or seven paragraphs in praise of supermarkets, it's that I am not a person who should keep bread in the house. If I have bread, and I have cheese, and (god forbid) I have mayonnaise, things can go pretty chubby pretty fast.

My people are from the Midwest. Bread and cheese run through my veins. (Probably literally.)

But the terrific thing about the Winn-Dixie having a bakery is that I can purchase only the amount of bread a normal person should eat in one sitting at a time. This here is a Portuguese roll, and it cost (no lie) 39 cents.

It's been a little light on the meat around the Woodside here lately, which is just fine with me—eating vegetarian, even sort of accidentally, is healthy and cheap, and I am just not a person who misses the meat when there are beans and eggs and cheese to be had.

But every once in a while I do hear my body say BIG DOSE OF PROTEIN, PLEASE and it's insistent that tofu or quinoa is not the proper vehicle. In this case I used ground chicken, mostly because I wanted that cooked-through texture. I really wanted to bite into something meaty. The tomato is a little bit of an affront to the state of Alabama, but I may have chosen it too hastily. It was certainly not the valedictorian of the 2013 summer semester.

The whole shebang, though, is mostly about that chunky avocado-tomatillo sauce. It soaks into the toasty bread (please please toast the bread next to the burger as it finishes) and makes an ordinary weeknight chicken burger something to look forward to.

I got off work the night I made this at 7:45 and spent a happy little decompressing half hour or so in the kitchen putting this together—there's no rocket science here, just a lovely sandwich dinner that will help you forget you worked until 7:45.

The citrus in the sauce is the wild card here—you want the avocado and cilantro to give it good balance, so it's good to get a nice, big, ripe avocado and add the lime juice a bit at a time, tasting until it's as tangy as you like—tomatillos can be unpredictable. I like it on the creamier side, so if your avocado isn't pulling its weight you can stir in a glug of sour cream or (ahem) ranch dressing. (I won't tell.)

Enjoy!


Chicken Burgers with Avocado-Tomatillo Sauce

1 pound ground chicken
1 teaspoon garlic salt
¾ teaspoon black pepper
4 Portuguese rolls, kaiser rolls, or hamburger buns, halved
4 tomato slices
4 red onion slices
Avocado-Tomatillo Sauce (recipe below)

1. Combine chicken, garlic salt, and black pepper in a medium bowl. Divide mixture into four equal portions, and form into thin patties.

2. Cook chicken patties in a greased grill pan over medium heat 6 to 8 minutes on each side or until completely cooked through. During last minute of cooking, place rolls, cut sides down, on grill pan to toast.

3. Top toasted rolls with tomato slices, onion slices, and Avocado-Tomatillo Sauce. Makes 4 servings.

Avocado-Tomatillo Sauce

5 medium tomatillos, husks removed and scrubbed
¼ small red onion, chopped
1 garlic clove
1 jalapeño, seeded and chopped
½ cup fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1 large avocado, chopped
¾ teaspoon kosher salt

1. Chop tomatillos, and place in a food processor. Add red onion and next 4 ingredients; pulse until coarsely chopped.

2. Add avocado and salt; pulse until smooth. Makes 1½ cups.

 

There's no question in my mind that if I had limitless funds, energy, and time, I would blog every single day.

True confession time? Cooking burgers makes me nervous.

So, I know they're called "Yukon golds," but is that not the yellowest potato you've ever seen? 

That hasn't the slightest to do with any pats of butter in there, nuh uh no sir.