Of course, in the realm of food, these partners are many: wine and cheese, hummus and pita, peanut butter and jelly, burgers and fries.  Personally, I would add: [...]]]> There are some classic combinations that simply can’t be denied.  Fred and Ginger.  Joanie and Chachi.  The Yankees and the Bronx.  My sister and her daily quad Americano.

Of course, in the realm of food, these partners are many: wine and cheese, hummus and pita, peanut butter and jelly, burgers and fries.  Personally, I would add: oatmeal and bananas.

This past weekend, while hibernating due to sub freezing temperatures, I set out to conquer a partnership surprisingly new to my tastebuds.  Prepare to laugh:

It was chili and cornbread.  I know.  Who hasn’t experienced this duo?  I don’t have a good reason for 24 years of missing out; I simply knew that it was beyond time that I remedy the situation.

It began with a challenge, as cornbread requires baking, always a supreme feat for me.  But I learned to cook by getting my hands dirty and experimenting, and I know the only way I’ll ever gain any semblance of comfort with baking is to do the same.  So I pulled out my vegan recipe bible [that's Veganomicon for the unenlightened], and I glanced over their instructions for cornbread.

It seemed simple enough.  I opened my pantry and began collecting ingredients.

• 2 cups of cornmeal.  “Hmm, all I have is corn flour.  That should work.”
• 1 cup of flour.  “Whole wheat pastry flour…should be ok.”
• 1/4 cup of sugar.  “No refined sugars for this girl.  I have Sucanat.”
• 2 cups of soy milk.  “Don’t have that, but no problem, I can use almond milk.”

Do you see where this is going?  Then I texted my sister:

The thing is, I am not a recipe follower.  If I’m going to learn to bake, I’ve got to do it on my own terms, and that means recipes are inspiration, not rulebooks.  It might take a [long] while for me to master this new art, but this is a skill I’m cultivating for life, not for the month of February.  I can be patient.

The result made it obvious I’m still an amateur.  I wanted it moister and a bit sweeter, and in the end, I felt the cornbread needed the chili.  But it isn’t bad; in fact, I’m eating a piece as I type this.  Good thing cooking is something I know how to do.

No recipe necessary when vegetables are at hand:  I knew I was after a vegan chili heavier on the vegetables than the beans, high on the flavor and medium on the heat.  Easy!

Chili, I feel, is the kitchen sink of soups.  Toss together onions, garlic, chili powder, and beans, and you can claim it’s a bowl of chili.  Throw in twenty-six vegetables and seven different spices: it’s still chili.  Perhaps it complements a precise baked good so well because of its flexibility: they balance each other out.

I did something very unlike myself when I made this soup:

Truthfully, I saved some cash.  I am always about fresh, seasonal ingredients.  But sometimes you’ve got to go with cost and convenience.  I created this entire recipe for a grand total of $5 spent on frozen vegetables [I already had the beans, broth, and tomatoes in my pantry].

vegetable chili

• 2 T evoo
• 1 medium onion, chopped
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 T chili powder
• 1 T dried oregano
• 1/2 T cumin
• 1/2 T paprika
• 1 can diced tomatoes with juice
• 1 c corn kernels
• 8 c mixed vegetables of your choice
• 3 c cooked kidney beans
• 4 c vegetable broth
• salt and pepper to taste

Sauté onion in oil until soft.  Add garlic, sauté one minute.  Add spices, sauté one minute.  Stir in tomatoes, corn, vegetables, beans, and broth.  Bring to a boil.  Simmer, covered, thirty minutes.  Season with salt and pepper to taste.

I’m providing a recipe here, but I don’t really believe in chili recipes.  It’s a prime opportunity to get creative.  [That's Greek yogurt on top, by the way].

No better reward on a freezing afternoon.

What are your perfect food pairs?

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I [...]]]> One of the wonderful things about living in New York in the summertime is the multitude of free activities available to locals and tourists alike.  This afternoon, my sister and I walked over to tourist central, otherwise known as the South Street Seaport, with one purpose in mind: renting bikes – without the rental fee.

I received a flyer in my mailbox a few weeks ago advertising locations of free bikes at the seaport and Battery Park, but it took us a while to finally manage to make it over there.  In preparation, I put on my practical shoes and knee sleeves; my sister…did not.

Now, a little background:  the last time I was on a bike, I was nine years old.  That was a long, long time ago.  So today I had to do a bit of practicing, and the first few minutes were looking a little bleak.  Mounting a bicycle for the first time in almost fifteen years on Manhattan streets – not exactly an ideal locale.

Although there were some near misses with cabs, small children, and delivery boys, as well as an unfortunate collision with a pole, the experience of zooming down the West Side Highway was a fantastic way to spend an afternoon.  Once the first few unstable minutes had passed, pedaling into the breeze was as easy as – well, riding a bike.

The last time I was on that path was also the last time I ran, and riding down there today was nostalgic – but in a positive way.  Honestly, I’m relatively sure I’m going to go rent a bike on my own sometime this week.  Exercise is always more fun in the fresh air!

After our ride, my stomach was audibly hungry, so I got to work on dinner.  My task of the evening was to conquer mustard greens and actually enjoy them.  I passed my test:

bbq beans and mustard greens (serves 1)

• evoo
• 1/2 c onion, chopped
• 1/2 c diced tomatoes with juice
• 1/2 large zucchini, diced
• 1/2 c kidney beans
• 4 c mustard greens, chopped into bite size pieces
• 2 T barbecue sauce
• 1 T rice vinegar
• 1 T maple syrup
• 1 t ground mustard
• 1 t cumin

Heat oil in medium saucepan.  Add onion; sauté until soft.  Meanwhile, whisk together barbecue sauce, rice vinegar, maple syrup, mustard, and cumin.  

Add zucchini, tomatoes, beans, mustard greens, and barbecue sauce mixture to saucepan.  Simmer, covered, about 10 minutes.  

I served it over barley and felt as though I should have been dining in a Southern backyard, rather than my New York countertop.  A good one for a muggy summer evening.

Do you remember the first time you rode a bike?  Did you fall?  Need training wheels?  Were you a natural?  (My answers would be yes, yes, and definitely no).

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