In addition to being incredibly healthy (antioxitants, beta carotene, vitamin K, vitamin C!), kale can also be incredibly tasty. And when I tell you that Kale Chips might be the easiest crowd pleaser you’ve prepared in months, what you have here is the trifecta of recipes. Healthy. Tasty. Easy. Consider this an end-of-summer gift from me to you.

Kale can be chewy and bitter, which is why many of us pass it over for more palatable greens. I was skeptical about Kale Chips when my sister-in-law started singing their praises a few months back. Could a little olive oil and 10 minutes in the oven actually transform this tough-to-love cabbage into something light and crispy?

Yes! These crunchy treats make a great appetizer or snack. Their rich, green color makes them attractive too – perfect for piling on a plate or in a bowl. They’re airy, crispy and the hint of salt makes them hard to stop eating. But the best part is you don’t have to stop eating. There’s no need to ration your portion size or feel an iota of guilt. You’re eating one of the healthiest foods around and enjoying it. Consider yourself enlightened.

Kale Chips

1 bunch kale (I use the curly variety)
oilve oil
salt

Note: We just did a spicy batch with red pepper flakes that was divine. Get creative with your seasoning. The possibilities are endless.

Rinse and dry kale, then remove the stems and tough center ribs. Cut or tear into large pieces.

Arrange kale, tossed in just a little olive oil and salt, in a single layer (some overlapping leaves are fine) on a baking sheet and roast it at about 375 for 10-15 minutes, giving the baking sheet a shake once during the cooking time, until the edges of the kale get crispy.

There are a handful of cooking websites I visit regularly. Sure it’s part market research, but it’s mostly for inspiration. Anyone who loves to cook and/or bake is inspired by what other people are making. It’s why we eagerly await our Food + Wine and Bon Appetit issues every month and why we share the successes and failures that come from our stove tops and ovens with our friends and family. But I digress.

When I visit these cooking websites I’m constantly amazed at how many people (both the bloggers themselves and their commentators) exclaim, “When I saw this recipe I was so excited! I already had all the ingredients!” Who are these people? Are they liars? Farmers? Because even though I keep a decently stocked pantry and refrigerator, rare is the case that I don’t have to run to the store for something.

Sometimes it’s a spice I used up and didn’t replace. Sometimes it’s a new box of brown sugar because the one I keep tucked on the shelf for rainy days has hardened beyond repair. Sometimes it’s an herb. A vegetable. A fruit. Something. Until today.

My in-laws left us with a pound of cherries that we’d never be able to consume before they turned. I decided to bake them. But into what? I didn’t want to make a pie or a crumble where I’d still be faced with leftovers (admittedly, I also was in no mood to tackle crust). My mind turned to bite-sized possibilities.

A few weeks ago, in a moment of culinary brilliance, I prepared my favorite banana bread recipe in a 12-cup muffin tin. They were the perfect grab-and-go breakfast or snack and the friends we offered them to found them too cute to resist. Bite-sized is, after all, so much better. “Cut it up and they will eat it” my savvy Mom used to say to my brother and I while slicing a previously ignored apple or cantaloupe. Within minutes, the very same apple we had shunned, the very same cantaloupe we had said we didn’t want, was gone. I play the same game with my husband and in turn we play it with friends. No one wants that last piece of steak? Cut it into fours and poof! Again, I digress. It must be the weather.

When I stumbled across a tart-already-adapted-to-a-bar recipe on Smitten Kitchen I wasn’t only excited because I had every single ingredient (man, that really does fee great to say), but also because I knew it would be a contender for the muffin tin.

I did not have a cherry pitter, but the task of manually pitting the cherries was much easier than I thought it would be (and not messy at all, which is more than I can say for my last foray with a pitter). I used a small paring knife to cut around the pit and the cherries emerged relatively unscathed.

For those of you who have not browned butter before, do not be intimidated! Do some reading before you get started and be patient. It’s much better to brown your butter on lower heat even if it takes longer. Keep stirring and give it your undivided attention, because the second you turn away Murphy’s Law guarantees it will burn. If you fail the first time, just give it another go. It’s only butter.

I did my best to pour the batter around the cherries, but when they came out of the oven it was clear that such fastidiousness wasn’t required. Next time I’d probably pour the batter in first and then place the cherries.

The muffin tin gives each tea cake a crust on the bottom and around the edges for the ideal crunch-to-cake-to-fruit ratio. The cherries were the star, but the brown butter held its own as a worthy suitor. These pretty little packages weren’t too sweet, and would be ideal for breakfast, brunch or a BBQ. A snack-sized scoop of vanilla ice cream or a dusting of powdered sugar would put them over the top. Yes, the individualized size takes a little more prep time, but the pay off is totally worth it, both in appearance and texture.

Cherry Brown Butter Snacks
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen who adapted from Bon Appetit

I halved this recipe to produce eight snacks. If you’re set on making bars, use an 8×8 baking pan. You can certainly sub in another fruit – whatever you have on hand!

Crust:
7 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
1/3 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup plus 1 tablespoon all purpose flour
Pinch of salt

Filling:
1/2 cup sugar
2 large eggs
Pinch of salt
1/4 cup all purpose flour
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
1 pound sweet cherries should yield 12 ounces of pitted cherries, I used 3 cherries per individual muffin mold, you can use 12 ounces of whatever fruit you like

Crust: Mix melted butter, sugar, and vanilla in medium bowl. Add flour and salt and stir until incorporated. Transfer dough to prepared tin, and use your fingertips to press the dough evenly across the bottom of the molds (about 1 TBSP of dough per mold). While the recipe I adapted from said to use parchment paper, I just greased and floured my muffin tin with great results. Bake until golden, about 15 minutes (they will puff slightly while baking). Transfer crust to rack and cool in pan. Maintain oven temperature.

Filling: Cook butter in heavy small saucepan (a lighter-colored one will make it easier to see the color changing) over medium heat until nutty brown, stirring often and watching carefully, about six minutes. Immediately pour browned butter into glass measuring cup to cool slightly.

Whisk sugar, eggs, and salt in medium bowl to blend. Add flour and vanilla and whisk until smooth. Gradually whisk browned butter into sugar-egg mixture; whisk until well blended.

Arrange pitted cherries on cooled crusts. Carefully pour browned butter mixture evenly over the fruit.Bake bars until filling is puffed and golden and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 25 minutes. Remove tea cakes from muffin tin and cool on a rack.

Note: These can be made at least a day ahead, and stored at room temperature. Any longer, keep them in the fridge.

Ca-ca-ca-ca-catfish!

I know, I know. I already hear you screaming: “Bottom feeder!” “Mercury laden!” For a whiskered creature, catfish has a bad rap.

These days, most of the catfish you’ll find at the supermarket and fish store is farmed. The beauty of farmed fish is that it doesn’t have the high mercury counts of its wild brethren. If you’re an educated shopper and you’re willing to ignore catfish’s ill-gotten reputation, you can eat this great fish without angst.

A few days ago we were reminiscing about our time in Seattle (we lived there for about four years). Naturally, our conversation turned towards one of our favorite meals in the whole city: the catfish sandwich at Matt’s in the Market. If you ever find yourself in the Emerald City, it should be at the top of your list. Needless to say, our trip down memory lane ended at the fish monger!

Catfish is an ideal frying fish. It’s dense and holds together, but it’s also moist and flavorful. It doesn’t take a lot to prep and I’d be remiss not to mention that it’s also incredibly cheap. All in all, catfish can make a quick, delicious, and satisfying meal.

It’s important to cut your catfish fillets in half lengthwise. Pat them dry and season before you send them through your dredging and egg wash stations. We’re no strangers to frying fish and over the years we’ve eliminated the flour dredging step from our preparation. Having never fried catfish before, we weren’t willing to break from instruction on the first go round, but next time, I would give it a try for at least one fillet to see if there was a difference.

Be sure to taste your cornmeal mixture and adjust the seasoning to your taste. We wanted ours to have a little more kick and added more cayenne.

I know pan-frying can be intimidating, but you’ll be in good shape if you’re patient while your oil heats to the right temperature (see recipe below). Have your kitchen timer or stop watch at the ready – the catfish was perfectly cooked at the four minute mark. Some people like to eat catfish with a dipping sauce, but the purists in us opted only for lemon wedges (and a side of sauteed kale and shallots).

After a few bites we looked at each other, nodded in silent agreement, and gave each other the requisite high-five for our Seattle-inspired and delicious meal. Think of us when you make it!

Pan-Fried Catfish
From the New Best Recipe Cookbook

2 catfish fillets, skin and dark fatty flesh just below the skin removed, fillets cut in half lengthwise (mine were about 7 ounces each)
1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 cup cornmeal (I used yellow)
Salt and ground pepper
1/8 tsp cayenne (or more to taste)
2 large eggs
2 1/2 cups vegetable oil
Lemon wedges

Place 1/2 cup flour in shallow dish. In another dish, mix together the remaining 1/2 cup flour, cornmeal, 1/4 tsp black pepper, and cayenne. In a third dish, whisk the eggs with 1 TBSP of the oil.

Pat the fish fillets dry and season with salt and pepper. Dredge the fish in the flour, then dip into the egg, and then coat with cornmeal mixture. Shake off excess after each step. Heat 1/2 inch of oil in a large, heavy-bottomed Dutch oven or high-sided saute pan until oil is 400 degrees. (The oil should not smoke.)

Place catfish fillets in the oil and fry for a total of four minutes, turning once. Keep oil between 385-390 degrees during frying process. Remove fillets from oil and lay them on a plate lined with paper towels. Blot to remove any excess oil. Serve with lemon wedges.

Tomatoes! Corn! Farm stands and markets are overflowing with these irresistible and versatile summer vegetables. They can be used in so many different and wonderful ways it’s hard to grow tired of them. And need I remind you it’s already August – soon you’ll be wearing a sweater, pining for all things summer, and wondering where all the corn and tomatoes went.

This succotash has a lot going for it. First, it utilizes both corn and tomatoes (hoorah – you don’t have to choose!). Second, there’s no cream or butter, so rather than tainting the rest of your plate’s occupants with its soupiness, this succotash is crunchy with freshness. Oh, and it also has bacon. Yep, bacon.

The bacon is what drew me to the recipe initially and it played an even bigger role than I was expecting. Each bite was sweet, salty, crunchy, and bursting with the summery flavors of corn and tomatoes. We ate it with steak, but it would be perfect with grilled scallops, shrimp, or crab cakes. It will dress up any casual summer meal.

You can use fresh or frozen beans. I shelled fresh beans last summer and swore I’d never do it again. But if you’re feeling up to the task (are you crazy? it’s gorgeous outside), you’ll need about a pound of fresh pods.

I used my patented mix of yellow grape and red cherry tomatoes. They have slightly different tastes and the vibrant color combination enhances any dish.

The fine folks at Gourmet also suggest serving this succotash with garlic croutons. I didn’t do this, but how could it be bad?

Summer Succotash
Adapted from Gourmet

1 cup frozen baby lima beans
1/4 pound bacon (about 4 slices)
1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil
1 small Vidalia onion or other sweet onion, chopped
1 large garlic clove, minced
3/4 pound cherry tomatoes (about 1 1/2 pints), halved (I used a mix of red and yellow)
Fresh kernels from 4 ears corn
1 tablespoon sherry vinegar, plus more to taste (I only had red wine vinegar)
1/4 cup packed fresh basil leaves
1/2 cup packed arugula leaves

In a small saucepan of boiling salted water cook beans over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until just tender, about 3-5 minutes. In a sieve drain beans and rinse under cold running water to stop cooking. Set aside.

In a skillet cook bacon over moderate heat until crisp. Drain bacon on paper towels and crumble. Pour off all but 1 tablespoon bacon fat from skillet. Add oil to bacon fat in skillet and cook onion over moderate heat, stirring, until softened. Add garlic and cook for 1 minute more. Add tomatoes, corn, and vinegar and cook, stirring, until tomatoes begin to lose their shape. Remove skillet from heat and gently stir in cooked beans and bacon. Cool succotash to room temperature and gently stir in basil and arugula, and salt, pepper and additional vinegar to taste.

This weekend, fresh seafood and grilled meat took a back seat to this insanely amazing tomato dish. I can’t remember the last time I received such high accolades. It was as though I had performed a magic trick. Eyes were wide with wonder. There were proclamations of “best side dish ever,” and “can you make this again tomorrow?” My husband looked at me like I was the only woman (and chef?) in the world.

For those of you living under a rock, it’s tomato season! Farmer’s Markets are filled with sweet and juicy yellow, red, and green tomatoes in every size and shape. Pints of grape tomatoes and cartons of cherry tomatoes beckon me. I keep them washed and at-the-ready. I pop them like candy. I look for recipes that will exploit their wonders.

For this recipe I used a combo of yellow grape and red cherry tomatoes. The color mix is bright and summery. Feel free to use whatever tomatoes look and taste the best. I’m pretty sure you can’t go wrong.

Though the bread starts toasted, during baking the starchy cubes soak up the tomato juices and are converted to gnocchi-like consistency – pillowy and delicate. The tomatoes and basil conspire int0 a sort of hearty sauce. The layer of Parmesan bubbles and browns.

What are you waiting for?

Scalloped Tomatoes

3 tablespoons olive oil
2.5 cups bread from a French boule (I used sourdough boule), crusts removed, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
2 lbs pounds yellow and red cherry tomatoes, cut into halves
3 cloves garlic, minced (about 1 tablespoon)
2 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons Kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 cup thinly slivered basil leaves, lightly packed
1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Heat olive oil in a large ovenproof sauté pan (le creuset would probably work great) over medium-high. Add the bread cubes and stir so that they are evenly coated with oil. Cook cubes, tossing frequently, until toasty on all sides, about 5 minutes.

Meanwhile, combine tomatoes, garlic, sugar, salt and pepper in a large bowl. When the bread cubes are toasted, add the tomato mixture and cook them together, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes. Remove from heat, and stir in the basil. Top with Parmesan cheese. Bake 35 to 40 minutes until the top is browned and the tomatoes are bubbly.

I can’t believe that it’s almost August and I’m only now writing a post on baked clams! Baked clams are one of our summer staples, usually consumed with pre-dinner drinks or as an accompaniment to whatever is really for lunch (yes, I live in a world where baked clams are a side dish). One of the reasons these make such a frequent appearance is because the same husband who loves to grill, also loves to clam. Amazing, “toeing” and “raking” for clams is also an activity our summer guests seem to love. Yes, that’s right, we send our guests into Shinnecock Bay, armed with rakes and mesh bags, to dig for clams. For all you consummate hosts out there, it’s as gratifying as it sounds: “Now get out there and find us something to eat!” The good news is that even if you don’t have a forager amongst your family or friends, clams are readily available at supermarkets and fishmongers.

While my clammers are wading, I’m in charge of the mise en place. Combine a stick of room temperature butter with 4 cloves of finely chopped garlic. This is more than enough for two dozen clams. Any extra can just be wrapped in plastic wrap and tucked in the fridge for next time or for another meal’s garlic bread.

In a bowl, mix freshly chopped parsley, freshly grated parmesan cheese and bread crumbs. (In a Martha-esque moment I recently used homemade breadcrumbs and the clams turned out under seasoned.)

Even if you buy your clams, you can still partake in the opening festivities, though I’ll warn you that it can be tough – and frustrating – work. Like so many other things in life, it gets easier with practice. A few weeks ago the NY Times Diner’s Journal had a good article on some of the tricks to opening clams. While you’re honing your skills, I might recommend purchasing your clams on the half shell.

Place your clams on a baking sheet and give each one a dime-sized dollop of garlic butter and then a healthy sprinkling of the breadcrumb mixture.

Bake in the top third of your oven at 350 for 8-10 minutes. Then broil until golden brown – keep a close eye as they’ll darken quickly. Squeeze some fresh lemon over the baked clams and eat. You’ll be as happy as a  . . . . (apologies, but how could I resist?).

My husband is from Virginia and we both went to college in Maryland. We have a soft spot for all things Chesapeake Bay. At the top of the list? Crab meat. More specifically, Jumbo Lump Crab meat.

Jumbo lump is the platinum standard of crab meat. The taste and texture is unmatched. It’s succulent, sweet and ideal for crab cakes. Once you have a crab cake made with jumbo lump, you’ll never go back. Or at least not happily.

A good crab cake satisfies a multitude of cravings. It’s protein-packed without being heavy. It’s browned without being greasy. The problem that befalls many a restaurant-prepared crab cake is the use of “filler.” Jumbo lump crab meat is expensive. Very expensive. It has to be hand-picked, a labor-intensive practice that runs the cost up to at least $30/pound. Filler – which can be anything from breadcrumbs to mayo to another type of crab or fish – reduces a restaurant’s raw ingredient costs. It also dramatically reduces the taste and quality of the crab cake.

So why leave yourself, and luscious jumbo lump, at the mercy of a restaurant?

As luck would have it, my mother-in-law is a master of the homemade crab cake. I’ve watched her make them for years, but just last night, made them for the first time myself. Now you can too.

Once you get your hands on the crab meat, the rest is easy. With some saltines, an egg, mayo, mustard, and a kick of cayenne, you’ll be on your way.

Because there is so little filler in these crab cakes, it might seem like they’re falling apart. Just pack them into the tightest cakes you can. Once they start cooking, they’ll stay together better. Ours browned quickly, so we covered the saute pan for a few minutes.

Some folks like to eat these on a bun, but when there’s jumbo lump and no filler, I’m a purist. A dollop of tartar sauce is all they need.

These crab cakes also make a blockbuster appetizer. Just reduce the size of the cakes for a pre-dinner treat.

Chesapeake Bay Crab Cakes

1 pound fresh jumbo lump crab meat
8 saltine crackers, crushed
1 egg, slightly beaten
1 tablespoon country dijon mustard
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1/2 teaspoon cayenne

Mix all the ingredients together. Shape into four cakes and sauté in hot butter until golden on both sides. Serve with tartar sauce.

Tarter Sauce is just mayonnaise, mustard, and pickle relish. Make your own!

On our last trip to New Orleans, one of the greatest foods to grace our lips were the Chargrilled Oysters from Acme Oyster House, where oysters on the half shell are given the creole treatment – a healthy dousing of Acme’s seasoned butter and Romano cheese – before being cooked on an open flame. If you can believe it, they’re even better than they sound. Determined to recreate them, my grill-crazed hubby intently watched the oyster griller prepare these bayou jewels. This weekend we put his studies to the test.

The most important ingredient is the seasoned butter. Though Acme won’t give out their secret recipe, we made do with a Cajun Spice Blend. It’s a mix of paprika, celery seed, garlic, basil, white pepper, cayenne, thyme, and parsley. You can make your own or buy a pre-made bottle. Creole Seasoning would likely work too. Mix the spice blend with softened butter (about 4 TBSP per dozen oysters) to your desired level of heat and flavor. Next, grate some Romano cheese.

Apply a dollop of seasoned butter and a sprinkling of cheese to your shucked oysters. If you shuck these babies yourself, more power to you. We took the easy way out and bought them on the half shell. If you have options, choose a slightly larger, more plump variety of oyster.

Fire up your grill to medium heat, grab yourself a pair of cooking tongs, and watch the butter and cheese melt into oyster harmony. They don’t need too much time on the heat, so keep a close eye on the grill. Serve them straight off the grill, with lemon wedges and bread to sop up any extra butter. (For those of you who are grill-less, you can broil them in your oven, though they won’t have the same charbroiled taste.)

Not bad, huh? They looked and tasted like our fond Acme memories. We were pretty pleased with ourselves. So were our guests. Once the oysters were eaten, the only sounds were of forks and teeth chiseling away at every last crispy shred of cheese that had adhered to the shells.

If you enjoy these as much as I think you will, don’t make your new found ability to cook creole style an excuse not to go to New Orleans. I’m hoping for the opposite.

At this very moment you can only be asking yourself one question, Where can I get my hands on that gorgeous lobster roll? Pearl Oyster Bar? Ed’s? At some secret seafood shack whose name is about to be revealed? No, no, and no. The answer, dear eater-friends, is that I made that lobster roll. And yes, you can too.

Truth be told, I’ve had lobster rolls on the brain since my May trip to Pearl. When The Amateur Gourmet posted his homemaking lobster roll experience last week, my fate was sealed. It was only a matter of time before I would tackle this summer staple in my own kitchen. With helpers poised at the ready this past holiday weekend, I had my opportunity.

While making lobster rolls turned out to be much easier than I originally thought, it must be said that this exercise is not for the faint of heart. It involves the boiling of live crustaceans and the smashing of their claws. You and your kitchen will smell like lobster. You and your kitchen will get messy. Very messy. But it’s with my sincere apologies to the folks at PETA that I also must tell you, under no uncertain terms, that it’s totally worth it.

The most difficult part of the preparation was extracting the lobster meat. While the tail relents, the claws and knuckles are more stubborn. We did not have lobster crackers or mallets, but someone smartly suggested smashing the shells with the bottom of a frying pan. Did I mention this was messy business? It worked like a charm and was admittedly kind of fun.

Much of the lobster roll construction is about personal taste and it’s important to add the ingredients – mayo, chopped celery, etc. – slowly and with frequent taste tests until you get it just right. There is, however, a step that is not up for debate: the buttered and toasted bun. Whether you use a frying pan or a grill, it brings this luscious sandwich to the next level.

If my goal in making lobster rolls was to relieve myself of the craving, my plan backfired. I’m already looking forward to next time.

Lobster Roll

Five 1.5 lb lobsters yielded seven overstuffed rolls and a few extra forkfuls. (Your per roll cost should make you smile.)
finely chopped celery
mayonnaise (I used Light)
lemon
salt
pepper
hot dog buns – buttered and toasted

Bring a large pot of salted water to a rapid boil. Add the lobsters gently. Cover and cook for about 12-15 minutes. The lobsters are ready when they’re bright red. Remove lobsters and place in an ice bath to stop further cooking.

When the lobsters are cool enough to handle, either tear or cut off the tail and claws (including the knuckles). Remove the meat employing whatever tools your kitchen affords. Cut the meat into chunks and put in a bowl.

Add celery, mayo, some squeezes of lemon juice, salt and pepper. Taste and adjust accordingly.

Butter and toast hot dog buns. Pile on the lobster meat and eat!

Note: The lobster meat can be made in advance and refrigerated, but don’t chill the lobster meat before adding the mayo.

When word came that The Best Chocolate Cake in the World, a Lisbon original, would be arriving on New York’s Spring Street, I was intrigued both as a foodie and a marketing professional. The self-aggrandizing moniker succeeds in tantalizing your taste buds and piquing your interest, but could the chocolate cake even come close to meeting the high expectations set by its name?

The Best Chocolate Cake in the World is actually more like a torte in that it’s flourless. There are two versions, a Traditional that has a 55% cacao content and a Bittersweet that has a 70% cacao content. Both will set you back $6.50 a slice.

The cake is made with Valrhona chocolate, constructed of thin layers of chocolate meringue and chocolate mousse, and glazed with a chocolate ganache.

The Traditional is way too sweet and tastes more like milk chocolate than 55% cacao. The crunchy meringue only bolsters the over-sugared taste while giving the torte an unappealing consistency that is granular and dry. A huge glass of milk was more of a necessity than a desire.

The Bittersweet is better. The deeper and more intense chocolate provides a much needed distraction from all the sugary layers. But it’s still far from the best chocolate cake in the world.

The name got me in the door, but the cake will not bring me back. There is many a chocolate confection in which I’d prefer to indulge, all of which cost a fraction of the price. Manage your expectations, New York.