Cantaloupe and Prosciutto: A Perfect Pair

We've all had it before: pieces of melon wrapped in paper-thin slices of proscuitto. The salty-sweet combo is almost perfect. Almost.

Throw in a little bitter, in the form of arugula, and top with olive oil and balsamic vinegar for a well-rounded - and filling - salad.

And I don't know how they do it, but Wilson's Farm has the BEST arugula in the state. So much tastier than anything you can get at the market. Too bad I only get out that way once in a while now...

Athan's, Washington Square

Sunday morning, it was drizzling out, and I had the apartment to myself. I spent the morning reading (all of Will the Vampire People Please Leave the Lobby? by Allyson Beatrice, then starting Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant, an anthology of food writing about eating alone) before succumbing to hunger. A quick prowl of the shelves proved that there was nothing bordering on edible in the house. Right then and there, the day planned itself out for me: find something to eat and go grocery shopping.

My first thought was Athan's in Washington Square. The day before, I bought some florentine cookies, which are pictured below, for a party. While I was in there trying to decide, I noticed too many tempting items.


When I walked in, the small front room, filled with display cases and the register, was busy. I really wanted a pastry (the apricot and almond struedel looked especially enticing), but I knew I needed something a little more meal-like. The cafe has a small sandwich menu... I was all ready for the roasted veggie wrap when I spotted two of the sweetest words not in the English language - brie panino.

I ordered and took a seat at the bar in the crowded dining room. It took a while for the sandwich to be delivered, but I forgot all about it when I took the first bite. The cheese was gooey, almost liquid, against an extra-crispy ciabatta bread. The pungent sweetness of the brie was offset by ripe tomatoes and zesty basil, a nice play on the more typical tomato-mozzarella-basil sandwich.


Another sweet surprise came on the drink menu - Nescafe frappe. The owners of Athan's are Greek, which is shown primarily through the large display of various baklava and galaktoboureko, but also through offering Nescafe frappe. This drink, made from instant coffee and milk, is available everywhere in Greece. It does not contain ice cream, like a Boston frappe, and is pronouced frap-PAY. It's the lovechild of iced coffee and a frothy latte, sweet but with a little bitter bite and much tastier than anything you'll find at Starbucks. I know I'll be back, if for no other reason than to order a frappe again.

Thus filled with cheese and coffee (and bolstered by some more reading time), I headed out for a 3-market grocery tour of Allston-Brighton and Brookline. I am now better prepared for the next time I'm home alone and starved.






The florentine cookies, also from Athan's, were a replacement for cherry tarts that failed. I needed something to bring to a party, and these looked delicious. (Of course, I also bought some for myself). They are, from top to bottom: almond, sesame, and pistachio. These are not typical lacy florentines, but more like little caramelized nut clusters. The almond, the most traditional, was tastiest; the sliced almonds were rich, and there was a good ratio of nut to candy. The sesame was also good, but it reminded me of sesame candy that is available at middle eastern markets in the bulk bins. (I'm not knocking the stuff, I grew up on it!) The pistachio was not very good, but this may just be because the typical bitter tones of the pistachio didn't match up well with the toffee like coating.

My Stove Hates Me

It's official, my stove hates me. I'm going to a party tonight, and I was working on a batch of mini cherry tarts to bring along. Without warning, the cherries started to burn in their pot. Now the whole apartment smells like charred sweetness. And I have no eggs, so I can't bake cookies.

Awesome.

CafePress can read my mind

I just got an email from CafePress with a link to cooking designs. How did they know I was in the market for an apron?

The "Your misenplace or mine?" design made me laugh pretty hard... is that sad?

Anna, How I've Missed You

Anna's has been my favorite Boston-area taqueria since Day One. When I was in college, we would eat at the Davis Square branch at least once a week. Nowadays, though, I don't get there often enough... it's just don't get off at that T stop. I finally stopped by today to assuage my craving for veggies and cheese.

After years of experimentation, I have come to the decision that the Veggie Quesadilla is an amazing food. The tortilla is oiled and grilled to crispy perfection. The cheesy is creamy and not too bold. The myriad of veggies are fresh and delicious. In the production line of various fillings, there is a bin filled with cooked veggies of all sorts - zucchini, summer squash, broccoli, red onion, sweet potato and corn on the cob. You just let the guy behind the counter know which ones you specifically want or don't want, and he'll chop them up and wrap them in the crispy shell (be sure to get some of the sweet potato, though, because it really elevates the dish). The fresh salsa is a perfect accompaniment to the cooked veggies (although if the salsa is too cold, it can be a bit jarring against the warm veggies and cheese). And can you see all the cilantro in the salsa? Delicious!

And don't forget the chips and guacamole! The chips aren't stellar, just good. The guac, though, is great. The avocado is creamy and smooth, while small chunks of tomato, white onion and cilantro give some texture. It's not uniformly mixed, allowing for each bite to have a different nuance - a crunch of sweet onion, the coolness of the avocado, a hint of black pepper.

I've been hearing a lot of grumbles from various sources, especially on Chowhound, about how awful Anna's is. This visit only strengthened my view that my standard quesadilla order is far superior at Anna's than at the Boca Grande near my office. If only that Boca Grande, which opened just a few months ago, could have been an Anna's...

I Have a New Love

The rain was beating down last week when I finally made it to the farmers market. I made my choices quickly, moving from booth to booth and picking what looked best. I really had my hopes up for some zucchini flowers, but there were none in sight. One booth had bunches of pea tendrils, something I've heard a lot about, but never tried.

The first time I heard that people ate pea tendrils, I was amazed. I would never think to eat the part of the plant that helps the peas climb. I thought they would be too tough, despite the thin curls, because the plant would need strength to climb. I was all wrong. The leaves and the vines were very tender with just a little bit of bite.

I didn't get around to cooking these until tonight, and I was afraid they wouldn't be any good after 4 days in the fridge. There were a few bad pieces, but there was more than enough left after I culled them from the bunch. I heated some oil in a wok on high, then added the tendrils for about 10 seconds. They wilted immediately, and with that, they were ready to eat.

My first bite made me smile. The flavor was still bright and fresh, even after so many days. It tasted like a wonderful combination of fresh peas and asparagus - not quite as sweet as good peas, with a little of the woodsy quality of asparagus. Just cooking it in oil let the real flavors shine through, but now I'm looking forward to trying new flavors with it. My Chinese five-spice peeked its head out of the cabinet as I reached for the oil, so I may had to give it a try next time. I'm so pleased that I finally tried these, and I can't wait to pick some more up at the farmers market this week.

A Sign That I'm Becoming My Mother

I've seen it coming for years. It's in my words, my gestures, my tastes, my hobbies, even my face (at least, the skinnier version of my face that I had in college). I am becoming my mother.

This isn't a bad thing, or something that I fear. My mom's a great woman (and I'm not just saying that because I know she'll read this - hi Mom!). She's taught me a lot of things, including how to find my way around the kitchen (although she's quick to point out that I still don't know how to make pilaf, which is a travesty for any good Armenian girl).

My point here - and I do realize that I'm rambling - is that I've picked up some of her bad traits as well. In our family, we joke that we can't take her anywhere because she will inevitably get food on her shirt. For a while when I was younger, we were trying to invent disposable napkins with velcro attachments, to make them stick to your clothes... but that venture never panned out. More than once, we've mentioned the need to keep lobster bibs on hand, just in case.

Where am I going with this, you ask? Well, I was sitting at work the other day, enjoying some cherries for my mid-morning snack. Huge, dark, juicy cherries. I had already eaten about half the bag when I bit into a particularly plump specimen... and before I could even look down, I knew that some of the juice had landed on my shirt. On assessment, it was not just my shirt, but my jeans AND my keyboard as well. And not just a dot on my shirt. No - a huge line of juice, dead center of my chest. When I went out to get coffee later in the day, the guy behind the counter didn't even look at my face.

And today? I ended up eating a nectarine over the kitchen sink, right out in the middle of the office. I need to remember to bring in foods that are easier to eat...