We’ve been moving around quite a bit lately, so it’s been hard to find the time to soak beans. Ah, bean soaking. That cooking activity we all say we don’t have time for but of course we do. Well I’ve also grown tired of using canned chickpeas when I’m in the need for some hummus. And the colder it gets, the more I like the idea of a spread and some toasted pita fresh from the oven. While the unsalted kind can work, the texture of the beans many times turns out mealy, and sometimes doesn’t accept any moisture at all. You wind up with an incredibly green, greasy, ball of chickpea dough spinning around and around in your food processor. Not cool. Amusingly enough, this is the first dish Matt and I attempted together, and basically how he was introduced to my cooking. Note to self: salting too early makes for not awesome mouth feel and impermeable starches and proteins.

We’ve got a lot of awesome garlic, parsley, and radish right now, harvested from my mother’s garden. So when I was in need of some hearty spread the other day, I decided to try out some cannellini beans instead. Surprisingly, even a can of Organic salted ones greatly improved the recipe. Cannellini beans have a much better texture – creamy, a little lighter, and more accepting of flavors with much less need for tahini and oil. The spread that materialized out of a lot of finger licking and pureeing reminds of an awesome crostini my friend used to make, the aroma of toasted cumin, and something my cilantro-adoring Indian father always likes to say: “Ewwww, parsley.” With a little sweetness from caramelized onion, a little garlicky kick, and some heat to warm you up, it’s a hearty, addictive snack.

1 small sweet or red onion
1 tablespoon cooking olive oil

3 pitas
Coarse sea salt
Freshly ground black pepper
Extra virgin olive oil

1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon urad, toor, or chana dal (optional)
A few whole peppercorns

1 can cannellini beans, rinsed
2 cloves of garlic, peeled, and coarsely chopped
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon tahini
1/3 cup Italian parsley, woody stems removed
Juice of 1/2 lemon
A pinch or more of paprika
4 radishes, ends removed, and 1 radish sliced thinly for garnish
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt

Turn the oven on to 250 degrees.

In a small saute pan, heat the cooking olive oil over medium. Once hot, add the onions and saute without burning until caramelized, about 15 to 20 minutes. Stir periodically to prevent burning. Season with a little salt and freshly ground black pepper. Remove from heat.

Cut the pita into 8ths, drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle with salt, grind on some pepper, and place evenly on a cookie sheet. Toast in the oven for 10-15 minutes until crispy. Remove, place in tinfoil, and keep in a warm oven until ready to use.

While the onions and pita are cooking, dry toast the cumin, dal (if using), and peppercorns in a small saute pan on medium. Once they start to pop, add them to the food processor.

Assemble the rest of the ingredients and add them to the food processor, reserving one sprig of parsley and the sliced radish. Once the onions are done, add them as well and puree until smooth. Taste and adjust seasoning. If it’s a little dry, add in a tablespoon of oil. If not creamy enough, add in a tablespoon of tahini.

Place the spread in a bowl, garnish with the radish and the parsley, and serve the pita on the side. Enjoy!

I scrapped the TV event rituals of chips and dip, buffalo wings, and other toilet-hugging night wreckers in favor of these little nibblets. They’re friendly, bite-sized, and come in all sorts of flavors to suit the mood of the hour. Here are some options to start with. And here’s to hoping…

Carr’s whole-wheat crackers with…
Smoked salmon, dill, mascarpone, and fresh cracked pepper
Homemade cashew butter, banana, and honey
Cucumber, hot mango chili, and sweet cheddar
Whole grain mustard, shaved reggiano, and fresh cracked pepper

The “nightshades” are out in abundance. Members of the Solanaceae family, among them peppers, potatoes, tomatoes, eggplants, and mushrooms are being harvested and brought to markets all over the east. Many nightshades are rich in alkaloids, chemical compounds that act as the plant’s defenses and can be toxic to us. The effects of their toxins can range from irritant (chilies) to stimulant (cocaine) to death (mushrooms such as the death cap). So lets just say the nightshade family has given us some of the best and worst of edibles.

On my recent trip to the market I couldn’t resist the brightly colored bell peppers (Capsicum Annuum), the only capsicum with a recessive gene for capsaicin, the heat-producing alkaloid that irritates the pain and heat receptors in the mouth and nose, and basically causes us to sweat and reach for the milk when we eat good salsa.

Capsicums originated in South and Central America some five thousand years ago, before they were taken home by explorers from Spain and Portugal and exploded across Europe in the 13th century. All peppers are an excellent source of vitamin C (hot peppers contain 357% more than an orange), but red bell peppers pack the most punch. They also are a good source of beta-carotene, the precursor to vitamin A.

As a kid, peppers kind of grossed me out. They had that squeaky skin and I was constantly finding the green ones on top of salads or hidden in my omelette when I sooo didn’t ask for them. But I guess I didn’t get the chance to eat many ripe peppers. Because, red, orange, and yellow peppers are tremendous. The yellow ones are great on salads; their sweetness and crunch adds a lot of depth.

I love cooking with all three, especially roasting them directly on my stove top, and watching the flame completely char the skin. But the best part is peeling off that blackened exterior to find the brightness of the pepper’s true color beneath. It’s a satisfying moment over my sink. To char peppers you really have to be willing to go for it, and not give in until the entire pepper seems like it will disintegrate. But when you finally remove the skin, core it, slice it up, and slip a piece in your mouth, that bright sweetness and smoky flavor is just what good autumn feels like.

I have been making this ratatouille-like dish forever. I generally just eat it directly out of the pan on toast, but could speculate that it’s probably also excellent under a fillet of white fish, or topped with cheese, or as a sauce for penne, or paired with roasted chicken. You tell me.

Tip: For storage, peppers are best kept washed, dried, and stored at room temperature (50F) out of the sun. The green ones, being tougher and unripe, will keep longer. A cut pepper should be placed in a plastic bag lined with a paper towel and put in the fridge. This will keep them from drying out.

When cooking, to keep the red and yellow of peppers strong, it’s best to cook them in acidic conditions. In this recipe, I use tomatoes.

Some people have problems digesting members of the nightshade, but if you remove the skins, they go down much more smoothly.

Roasted Bell Peppers, Tomatoes, Kalamata Olives, and Sweet Onion Ratatouille

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 sweet onion, minced
1 garlic clove, minced
2 bell pepper, red or yellow, washed and dried completely
3 medium-sized tomatoes or 1 cup cherry tomatoes, coarsely chopped
1 spanish onion, 1/2 inch dice
1 cup kalamata olives, seeded and coarsely chopped
1 tablespoon thyme, chopped
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
Salt
Pepper

Roast the peppers directly over a high flame, using tongs to turn them. Allow each side to char completely before turning. Once roasted, place in a bowl and cover with saran wrap. Once cool enough to handle, remove the charred skin with a parring knife. Don’t wash. Core and seed. Slice and then coarsely chop.

In a sauce pan, saute the onions and garlic in half the olive oil on medium heat until slightly browned, about 8 minutes. Add the peppers, tomatoes, olives, and thyme, and saute until softened, about 5 minutes. Bring it to a boil, and add in the balsamic, stewing for 5 minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. Serve hot or at room temperature.

Those who can find the perfect bite each time they bring a forkful to their mouth have a rare talent. Most of us shovel in our food, eat without looking, or prefer to eat the best part first or save it for last. Then there are those that eat clockwise, or only one thing at a time. What is that about? Any cook wants you to have the perfect balance of flavors in a good-sized mouthful every time.

I love to look at my food when I eat, and sometimes I focus so hard I miss conversations around me, forget to read subtitles during my dinner movie, or neglect to hear the waitress trying to get my attention for the second time. But the perfect bite usually only happens once a meal.

Whenever I am needing some perfection, to counter a very out-of-control day, I like to make exquisite little bite-sized crackers for dinner. Also, in case it isn’t totally obvious, I am a bit fan of mustard, greens, and cheese.

Goat cheese, rosemary, and olive tapenade
Goat cheese
1 spring rosemary, chopped
Olive tapenade
Whole grain cracker, I used these health nut ones
Pepper, freshly ground

Mimic the photo and stick in your mouth.

Cherry tomatoes, Gruyere, and whole grain mustard
A couple cherry tomatoes, washed and sliced
Whole grain mustard
A couple slices of Gruyere
Salt
Pepper
Whole grain cracker, I used these health nut ones
Pepper, freshly ground