smitten kitchen

I bet I am not alone in this, but one of my favorite things is to find some odd ingredient in the fridge and try to figure out what I can make that will use it up that does not include, say, buying another ingredient that I will only half-use to do so.

(This reminds me of when of the time we discovered that we had been joined by a roommate of the tiny, scampering variety, an evil one that outsmarted all traps put in its path, and many suggested that we get a cat to “get rid of it”. But then how to get rid of the cat problem, I always asked, and people shook their heads and clucked their tongues at me. Okay, perhaps this story isn’t an exact parallel after all…)

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Saying that you don’t usually care for brittle because it is, well, awfully brittle is definitely grounds for mockery.

But it’s true! I can’t tell you how unappealing I find stained glass-like sheets of amber caramel that you’re supposed to willingly bite into. You either get alarmingly sharp shards that stab you like a serial killer on the loose in your mouth, or it gets so gunked into the scoop of your molars, it takes a chisel to extract it.

Right, so where were we? My grievances with brittle in no way mean it can’t be good, just that it’s usually not. And previously, I never liked the stuff enough to find The Recipe, the one that will be all you need. Fortunately, with such inspiration as Luisa and Karen Demasco, this was perfect on the first try: buttery with an awesome depth of flavor that came from some accidental slightly overcooking and sea salt. Taking a bite, the pepitas just crackle within the caramel, and not so hard that it shatters everywhere.

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It’s a tough thing, you know, growing up and realizing you might not be exactly what you once thought you might. I am most certainly not the next Susanna Hoffs, Joan Jett or Mrs. Jon Bon Jovi; I’m not a doctor or astronaut but more fitting for this conversation, I always thought I would be an avid ingester of all sorts of greens and here I am, still quite put off by most of them.

I know this is something of a sacrilege in the food-fixated world, but I’ve never gotten into broccoli rabe (too bitter, almost always too tough), kale (tastes “funny”) and collards (ditto). I wish I would and I wish I could, but I’ve also learned that there are bigger fish to fry (so yeah, that too) than to fret over those things that have just never appealed to you.

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People, these things are nothing but trouble, so whatever you do, don’t do this:

Do not start with a bowl of vaguely healthful and intensely fortified bowl of Snap, Crackle and Pop.

Do not boil some sugar, because obviously unsweetened cereal will not do.

(Try not to do this to your lens, either, when you take a picture.)

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I don’t think I have ever met a galette I didn’t like. In fact, my only grievance is that I do not have more galette recipes on this site. Two years ago there was a wild mushroom and stilton galette and last year there was a butternut squash and caramelized onion galette but since then? Nada. Let me serve to fix that right now.

Why am I so obsessed with galettes? Halfway between a tart and pizza, I think they’re easier than both. They don’t require any of the eggs or liquid-setting bake of a quiche and there’s less of a volume limitation than you have with pizza, where too many ingredients will send your toppings right onto the oven floor. The galette is perfection, and I am excited to add this one to the collection.

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