As the numbers on the thermometer rise (high today in my part of the F-L-A is 85 degrees!) and thoughts turn to lighter, healthier (and cooler) eating, I’ve been searching out new culinary pals to liven up my spring and summer meals. Right off the bat, I made a fast food friend: farro.

A whole grain that’s loaded with protein, farro looks like a cousin to brown rice but has more of a chewy, slightly creamy bite. It also packs a nutrition punch, containing fiber, magnesium and vitamins A, B, C and E.

What’s not to love?

Well, my experience trying to actually find this great grain was not terribly easy. I understand it’s available at establishments like Whole Foods, but if you are like me and this culinary Mecca isn’t anywhere close to you, places like Amazon.com can come to the rescue. That’s the route I took and now my pantry is locked and loaded with farro for my dining and experimenting pleasure.

This recipe, adapted from one on epicurious.com, is a terrific place to start getting acquainted with farro. Easy and quick, it’s delicious as is but also lends itself nicely to substitutions to suit personal preferences. It’s one I’m going to enjoy (tonight, actually) and all through the hot season.

Chicken Farro Salad

Ingredients:

• 8 ounces skinless boneless chicken breast halves
• juice of one lemon
• 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 cup semi-pearled farro
• 12 ounces green beans, trimmed, cut into 1 1/2-inch pieces
• 2 cups yellow corn kernels (if fresh, cut from 2 to 3 ears of corn)
• 3 green onions, thinly sliced (about 3/4 cup)
• 1 tablespoon minced fresh marjoram
• 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
• 1/2 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
• 2 tablespoons white wine vinegar
• 2 tablespoons minced shallot
• 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard
• 4 ounces fresh goat cheese, crumbled

Cut chicken into even bite-sized pieces. Toss with lemon juice, olive oil and garlic. Mix so that chicken is covered with marinade. Let sit in fridge for at least an hour.

Cook farro in medium saucepan of boiling salted water until just tender, 20 to 25 minutes. Drain; cool.

Meanwhile, heat heavy medium skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken and marinade to skillet; saute until golden brown and cooked through.

Cook green beans in large saucepan of boiling salted water until crisp-tender, about 4 minutes. Drain. Rinse under cold water to cool; drain. Transfer beans to kitchen towel; pat dry.

Mix farro, chicken, and green beans in large bowl; add corn and green onions.

Combine remaining 2 tablespoons oil, marjoram, and 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt in small bowl. Press with back of spoon to release flavor. Whisk in vinegar, shallot, and mustard. Pour over salad in bowl; toss to coat. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

DO AHEAD: Salad can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.

Divide chilled or room-temperature salad among plates. Sprinkle with goat cheese. Enjoy!

When in graduate school a couple years ago, I spent most of my paid time crushing undergraduate dreams and my free time cooking\baking everything from fried twinkies to fresh eclairs to homemade pizzas. Upon returning to the real world and discovering that outside the hallowed halls of academia — with working almost 9-10 hours a day, sleeping for barely 8, and spending 3 getting ready for work, contemplating exercising, and not finishing the dissertation, allotting my remaining three hours of free time to daily cooking did not seem wise. However, since returning to the East Coast, I finally decided to return to the world of human food consumption. Surprisingly, my local Chinatown helped. Why?

Three reasons:

Reason 1: Fresh, cheap produce. For $4.92 two weeks ago, I purchased cilantro, bok choy, spinach, tomatoes, and scallions.

Reason 2: This relates to reason 1. You can easily use the fresh vegetables to spice up a pre-made dish. I tend to purchase Udon noodle packages for a buck from the grocery store. In the morning, I chop enough vegetables for a small Tupperware container. When I arrive at work, I combine the udon and vegetables together in the same bowl, microwave them with water for about two-three minutes, and then add the broth’s seasoning package. If I have extra time, I’ll add chili sauce, lemon juice, cilantro, minced garlic, and/or scallions to create a flavorful broth. You can use ramen noodles. However, Udon noodles only contain 1-3 grams of fat per serving and typically cost only $1-1.72. If you want to feel uber-healthy, certain companies make buckwheat noodles, but those are typically dried and do not come with seasoning. If I’m in a fancy mood I’ll add a store bought package of Pad Thai to the vegetables and serve inside a porcelain bowl.

Reason 3: Food whimsy, experimentation, and remembrance. During my pre-adolescent summer years, my mother typically purchased a dozen seasoned pre-cooked crabs from the local seafood market. Upon discovering Chinatown distributors actually sold bushels of live crabs, I purchased 6 for $3.50. Admittedly, upon returning home and watching their snappish sauciness, I felt guilty using them for consumptive purposes. But, since I had had two different conversations with acquaintances from different perspectives (one, a vegetarian and another, a carnivore) who both believed carnivores should experience um, ‘preparing’ their own food at least once in their lives, I bucked up and contemplated the most humane possibility. After placing them in the refrigerator for half an hour and then in the freezer for another hour (or two) to instate dormancy, I slowly dropped them in (while trying to avoid analogizing myself with Jack the Ripper). With the deed done, but the guilt remaining, I tried to re-invoke my childhood by serving them with a seafood spice packet (received free from a local grocery store).

So, if you haven’t had time yet, do explore the ethnic food markets in your area. I not only found apple soda for my friend’s wife, but actually tried dried sweet potato as another dried fruit alternative. Even if your store’s pricing does not mimic the Chinatown in my area, they can offer a bit of whimsy, experimentation, and remembrance.

Every time I’m tasked with making the family’s run to the local Whole Foods, I fall victim to needing to grab myself a snack and drink for the road. It never fails. Occasionally I’ll look for something new to try, like with my last visit. In one of the refrigerated drinks aisles (I think there are three or four areas in my store) I noticed something I hadn’t seen before: Prometheus Springs Capsaicin Spiced Elixir. Wait, capsaicin? As in the stuff that gives hot peppers their searing spiciness? This I had to try.

First of all, the name of these drinks reminds me of something a snake oil peddler from the late 1800s would be shopping around the old West, claiming it had healing and anti-aging properties. Just as you’d imagine, these are definitely spicy drinks, so said snake oil salesman would mystify crowds with how “electrifying” these elixirs were to the soul … and he’d sell cases of the stuff.

Basically there is a drop or so of pure capsaicin extract in each bottle, along with the other organic ingredients that give it flavor. For this taste test I had the Lemon Ginger drink, and the spice matched up just about perfectly with the ginger. What was interesting was that, since capsaicin is orderless and flavorless, it gave the sensation that I was drinking some really, really spicy ginger. However, if there had been enough ginger alone to give the drink that much spice, the ginger flavor would be overpowering. The added capsaicin spice gives it the extra kick without being too gingery.

The spice itself is probably a bit much for anyone who doesn’t like spicy things. I happen to love spicy foods, so I was loving this. I didn’t quite break out into a sweat from sipping away at it, but I bet I would have if I’d downed the whole bottle in a few big gulps. Once I was finished drinking the 16 oz. of drink, the spice lasted in my mouth for about 10-15 minutes. For some that might be too much.

The bottle suggests using the drinks in different ways, such as heating it up to help with a cold or mixing with recipes. I could definitely see something like this being a welcome soother to a head cold, so I’ll have to remember that. The other flavors available — Pomegranate Black Pepper and Lychee Wasabi — sound a bit icky to me, but I might check them out sometime. Something about drinking a bottle of black pepper or wasabi sounds self-abusive to me.

Have you tried the Prometheus Springs drinks out? What did you think?

A friend of mine recently started a raw food diet, and when I got the opportunity to split a case of kelp noodles with her, I jumped at the chance. Trying a new food is a beautiful thing, and when it’s this healthy for you, it makes it all the more exciting. No-carb noodles with all the nutrition of a sea vegetable and can be served like your favorite pasta? Yes, please.

They are so easy to use too — just rinse and plop in your recipe. You can heat them through, as I did here or just use them cold or room temperature. I’m not sure there’s a wrong way to eat kelp noodles. There’s another positive — they’re a forgiving food.

Speaking of forgiving … I ate “pasta” and didn’t leave the table bloated — score!

We bought some salmon to eat with the kelp noodles, so I went with some flavors I love combining with that flaky, oily, heavenly little pink fish — garlic, ginger, miso, lime juice, sesame oil. The recipe just created itself from there (based on what I had in the house) and this nutritious, vegetarian dish was born.

Kelp Noodles with Almond-Miso Sauce

Ingredients:

• 12-ounce package of kelp noodles
• 1 huge broccoli floret, chopped
• 1/2 an onion, chopped
• sesame seeds for sprinkling
• red pepper flakes to taste
• 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped

For the sauce:

• 2 tablespoons almond butter
• 1 teaspoon miso
• 1/4 cup water
• 1/2 teaspoon fresh ginger, grated
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/4 teaspoon sesame oil
• 2 tablespoons rice vinegar
• 1 tablespoon lime juice

Saute the broccoli and the onion until tender and golden. Add the kelp noodles and heat through.

Meanwhile, whisk all of the sauce ingredients together.

Add the sauce to the broccoli and kelp noodle mixture and quickly heat through. Remove from heat and sprinkle in sesame seeds, cilantro and red pepper flakes.

The less you heat the noodles, the more you’ll probably like them, at least that’s what we found. They are pretty wonderful no matter what, but the longer you cook them, the more rubbery they become, whereas fresh from the package they have a delightful crunch. (The five-year-old called it a “pop.”)

Owen, by the way, loved these noodles (you’ll notice the dot of sauce on the tip of his nose — consider that proof), and if you’re a savvy parent, you won’t cut them to your desired size as the package suggests. No, your desired size will be the long, slurpy strings that make your kid grin from ear to ear.

The one thing I hate about this time of year is that the fishing sucks. Water levels in rivers and streams are down and the areas that are open for fishing are hard to fish in these conditions. We have been experiencing an early spring here in Idaho so the fishing is improving, but it is still not great. I was really feeling like fish for dinner the other day, but when I went to the freezer all that was left was a small grouse. Pickings are slim.

I sat down and turned on the food network to get some ideas. I watched an episode of Iron Chef America and the secret ingredient was fish. There were several different types of fish and most of them I had never heard of. It turns out that several of the fish were members of the Tilapia family. I had at least heard of Tilapia, however I did not know there were several different types of Tilapia. I have seen Tilapia in the seafood section at the Walmart so I headed off to get some of this new fish to try.

Tilapia is a mild flavored fresh water fish that is farm raised and readily available. It’s an inexpensive fish as well. Unlike some farm raised fish I have tried, the Tilapia is not mushy. It is firm and holds together well.

According to Wikipedia, Tilapia have very low levels of mercury as they are a fast-growing and short-lived fish that mostly eats a vegetarian diet and therefore do not accumulate mercury found in prey.

Tilapia is a low total fat, low saturated fat, low calorie, low carbohydrate and low sodium protein source. It is also an excellent source of Phosphorus, Niacin, Selenium, Vitamin B12 and Potassium.

I got my Tilapia fillets home and took some out to thaw. When I am trying a fish I have never eaten before I go for my standby cooking method: I lightly flour it and fry the fish in some hot oil. I had some left over chicken breast in the fridge so I decided to add a variation of my Sour Chicken Casserole as well. I left out the cheese when I made my pasta this time, because I have been watching the food network, and now know that cheese and fish are a big no no. Maybe one of these days someone will explain why that is to me, but for now I will just go with it.

Fried Tilapia

Note: There is a print link embedded within this post, please visit this post to print it.
Ingredients:

• 4 Tilapia fillets
• 1 cup all purpose flour
• salt
• pepper
• 1/4 to 1/2 cup vegetable or olive oil
• 1 to 2 teaspoons garlic powder

In a large non stick frying pan on medium heat add the oil and garlic powder. Bring this up to temperature before adding the fish. If the oil is not hot when the fish is added the fish will soak up some of the oil and may stick to the pan.

Pour the flour into a large bowl. Add salt and pepper to taste. Mix the flour, salt, and pepper. Thoroughly coat the Tilapia fillets with the flour and carefully lay them into the hot oil. Tilapia, like most fish, cooks fast so keep an eye on it.Let it cook on the first side for 2 to 5 minutes, depending on the size of the fillet, then turn over and cook for 2 to 5 minutes on the other side.

Sprinkle on a little lemon juice or add your favorite tar-tar sauce and the Tilapia is ready to eat. Combine this with the pasta and you have a hearty meal that is sure to please.

I mentioned in a previous post that I had never tried asparagus. I know, weird right? I love vegetables, especially green ones. So why did it take me more than 26 years to try this one? I don’t really have a good reason. Finally, curiosity got the better of me and I bought some the other day. Since the general consensus around here seems to be that asparagus should be grilled, sauteed, or roasted onto a pizza I decided to throw some on the grill along with some sliced, marinated zucchini (and a steak for my husband!) and see what all the fuss was about.

Guys… I don’t get it. OK, asparagus is good, but is it that good? To me, it was kind of just, meh. I didn’t find the flavor to be very unique at all. In fact, when on the crunchy side, it reminded me a little bit of broccoli stems. Then when I let some cook a little longer, it was eerily similar to zucchini, which was a big disappointment because that was the vegetable I made to go with it. What the hell, asparagus?

I will admit that the tips were much tastier than the rest of the stalk, but come on. That’s like, one bite out of the whole vegetable. I’m not vowing never to eat it again or anything, but for the most part, I’ll leave it for you true asparagus lovers.

This weekend I found myself at the fresh fruit table at my local Whole Foods Market. A friend and I were determined to bake a pie with so many fresh berries in season. Besides, what better way to spend a beautiful summer day than slaving away in the kitchen? We settled on a huge box of blueberries for the pie (along with a few blackberries, because I can’t resist them).

As we were looking over the fruit however, something caught my eye: fresh lychees.

I had never had a lychee before, so I jumped at the opportunity to buy the small box of spiny fruit. I really had no idea what to expect from the fruit. I had heard lots of things about lychees, mostly that they are extremely sweet. As for the flavor itself, it was a complete mystery to me.

I got them home and peeled one easily of the tough, spiny skin, revealing the extremely juicy and fragrant flesh. I took a big bite of the lychee and one thing came right to mind: “Oh, it’s a big grape.” The flavor is reminiscent of a green grape, with the texture being very similar as well (minus the skin of the grape).

I can definitely see why people are drawn to the lychee. I don’t know that they will become a staple in my house, but I’m certainly glad I tried them. Have you tried lychees? Do you love them?

My father adores garlic. He cherishes it. He has garlic magnets, garlic t-shirts, garlic cookbooks, and garlic chewing gum. He has attended garlic festivals (and yes, I have been dragged along). There is no way that we are in any way related to any vampires, because if we were, they would be dead from the fumes that radiate from our house in a half-mile radius come dinner time. When my twin brother and I were born, my dad, the son of a photographer and a photo hobbyist himself, posed our unresisting, swaddled infant bodies for portraits to send to the eagerly expectant crowd of family and friends who had been watching my poor, tiny mother swell to roughly double her size. And to break up the soft, off-white background (and to differentiate us, I’m guessing, because newborns all look kind of the same) he curled some pink ribbon and some blue ribbon and placed it next to us where a normal parent would perhaps place a stuffed animal. Only since my dad is not a normal parent, guess what he tied it to?

That’s right. A bunch of garlic.

My best friend — my poor, simple, and naive best friend, who eats dinner at our house maybe every other night — was once talking to me on the phone and discussing why she loved her mother’s cooking more than ours, even though she had said and done things that suggested otherwise like, say, eat at our house all the time. Finally, after I kept pushing her, she burst out, “You know, my family understands that you do not have to make everything with at least double the amount of suggested garlic!”

“Oh no,” I said, “you did not.”

But she did. And maybe she has a point.  Garlic is great, sure, but maybe, just maybe, the same way scallions and, to some extent, leeks can provide much-needed onion relief, it was time to get a garlic pinch-hitter. Give our poor, over-worked garlic chopper the night off. Enter our CSA.

The first week my mother and I drove up to Land’s Sake farm and started gathering our allotted bags of stuff, the one thing that we did not recognize on the list were “garlic scapes.” Obviously, the very name suggested inherent promise, but when you look at a giant, squiggly green thing, it’s hard to look at it and know what to do with it, let alone understand it’s full potential. But oh, what potential those squiggly green things do hold.

Now, boring people tend to do one thing with garlic scapes — make them into pesto. Seriously, google “garlic scapes” and the first page is recipe after recipe of how to make garlic scape pesto. Which, don’t get me wrong, is pretty good. My mom made some herself, and I officially endorse it as delicious. But to only use garlic scapes for pesto is severely underselling them.

Garlic scapes can be used anywhere you would use regular garlic, and using it as a replacement in an oft-used recipe is sort of like having a revelation. Garlic scapes are far more subtle and have less of a bite. And they can do what garlic can’t — be sauteed in big pieces that will be edible without potentially killing you.

That’s how I like my scapes — chopped, sauteed, and mixed in things. Lentils, pasta sauce, basically anything. My favorite use was in a giant batch of scrambled eggs with tarragon, dried basil, potatoes, and scallions. In fact, my best friend came over after dinner that night, and she spent about ten minutes gazing forlornly at my sister, who was eating leftovers. When my sister finally offered to let her have the rest, she scarfed them down in record speed and declared them amazing.

I consider my work here done.

My food curiosity knows virtually no bounds. I love trying new things and seeking out unique food experiences. These adventures don’t usually come out of the freezer aisle of my grocery store, but I won’t complain.

This week I finally satisfied my curiosity. I purchased a pack of the Quorn brand Garlic & Herb Chik’n Cutlets. I decided to cook them up with some homemade pesto that I was planning on making with some pasta. They were super easy to prepare; I simply popped them into my toaster oven and let them get nice and hot. Twenty minutes later I had two crunchy, crispy cutlets of faux chicken.

So, how did they taste? Really, really good.

I was actually quite impressed with the Quorn. I was expecting them to be good (I wouldn’t doubt Kona), but I wasn’t expecting them to be as good as they were. The outside crust was crispy and really flavorful (the box did indicate that this was a crispier and tastier recipe). The inside “meat” was a surprisingly good simulacrum of chicken. The texture was spot on, and quite appealing. it wasn’t exactly chicken, though. It lacked the juiciness of a nicely fried chicken breast, but it was delicious nonetheless. Plus, I don’t think any frozen chicken product would cook up nice and juicy. Best of all, there’s no soy in the Quorn, so no soy aftertaste.

I would definitely buy Quorn again (and I did the last time I went to the market). I don’t know why something this tasty would be for vegetarians only. After all, I love veggie burgers too. I remember eating a veggie burger while in high school and some people I was with couldn’t understand why I would be eating it if I weren’t a vegetarian. The answer is simple: it tastes good!

I was browsing the frozen foods isle of my local Whole Foods Market yesterday and I was naturally driven to the ice cream section. What can I say? I love ice cream. Doesn’t everyone love ice cream? Every time I crack open a fresh pint of the stuff I thank the powers that be that I’m not lactose intolerant. Frankly, those lactaid ice creams just don’t come in the exotic flavors that draw my attention. For example, yesterday I was drawn to a Pinot Noir flavored sorbet made by Wine Cellar Sorbets in Brooklyn. My curiosity got the best of me, beating my common sense into submission, and I had to buy it.

I was excited to try it, though in the back of my head, I was afraid it was going to be gross. I mean, really, I’ve never found myself drinking a nice glass of red wine, thinking: “Gee, this would make a great frozen treat!” I was also nervous because it was a sweet sorbet, with plenty of sugar added to the wine. I’ve never been a fan of sweet wine, so I was concerned about this, but, again, my curiosity could not be denied.

After dinner I pulled the pint of sorbet from the freezer and pulled it open, eager to see if my fears would be confirmed. I dipped my spoon in and took a big taste. I was surprised that it tasted so much like wine, but it was just too sweet for me. Perhaps with some other food it would have been better. If I had some nice dark chocolate to go with it, it might have really worked. The carton itself recommends serving it with cheesecake.

To be fair, I should mention that I was discussing this with a friend, and she said there she and her family tried the same sorbet and loved it. Perhaps the preconceived notions were playing with my head, but I don’t think that’s the case. I like to believe I’m a little more open minded than that. I really think I would have liked the sorbet much better if it were less sweet. They also offer a sangria flavored sorbet (along with many others), that I think I may like better, as sangria is sweetened.

Have you tried anything like this before? What did you think?

Nori is so beautiful to look at, shiny and green. I figured, how could I not like it? So I bought some. I made sushi rice, tamago, and julienned some carrots and snow peas. Sounds delicious, right?

Then I opened the package of nori, took out a sheet, and smelled it. I realized I had a problem, in the form of an overwhelming fishy aroma. Somehow, even though I had read Debbie’s post about seaweed, in which she specifically states that nori has a fishy taste, I had conveniently forgotten all about that.

I broke off a piece and put it in my mouth. Yep… tastes like fish. And the thing is, I like fish. But if I’m going to eat a vegetable, even if it does come from the same place, I don’t want it to taste like fish. I want it to taste vegetable-y. Or “salty and nutty” which is how every other description of seaweed I’ve ever read says it tastes. Apparently, Debbie is the only one being honest here.

Still, I pressed on, since I had a whole package of the stuff, and rolled up the rice and the fillings in it, sliced it, dipped it in tamari, and took a bite. The tamari pretty much overpowered everything else, but there was still that pesky smell, and by that time, I had a headache from it.

Needless to say, I gave up after that. I took the remaining sushi rice, egg, and veggies, threw them on a plate, mixed it up with some sweet chili sauce, ate them, and that was delicious. After that, I googled “nori” and “fishy taste” to see if I could figure out what the hell was going on, and I came up with this:

As it turns out, in addition to the commercial fishing industry, bycatch is also a problem with the harvesting of seaweed, and they end up getting blended together when it’s being made, which gives it the fishy odor and flavor. Reading this was a completely “DUH,” palm-to-forehead moment for me. Like I said, I do like fish (cooked!), but for the most part, I’ve worked very hard to cut most meat out of my diet so I don’t really want it sneaking in without my knowing.

What I don’t get, is how the guy who wrote the blog post, who is vegan, never bothered to question this in two years of eating the stuff, when I’m not even completely vegetarian and my first taste had me searching for an explanation. I guess it’s just one more reason vegans are ridiculous.

So, chalk it up to experience, but now I have another weird food aversion to deal with. At least this one is easy to avoid.

When I told Keith to come home with any organic apple but red delicious (yuck!), I thought he’d saunter in with some gala, pink lady or maybe even granny smith. Living in New England, you’d think we would have tried just about every apple known to man during our autumn apple-picking sprees, but you’d be wrong. Keith brought me home American cameo apples. Embarrassing — I’ve never even heard of them, let alone tried one before!

So naturally, I googled them, and I immediately felt much better about being a New Englander who’d never tried a cameo apple. Apparently, American cameo apples are a relatively new variety (1998) from Washington state. I’m not a total loser after all, championing local food like I do.

Cameo apples have the most delightful texture of any apple I’ve had: very crunchy, almost popping right off the core into your mouth, if that makes any sense whatsoever. Crisp and juicy, not tough or mealy like some apples can be. I really, really love the crispness of these apples.

What I missed, though, was the tartness I enjoy in an apple. My favorite apples are pink lady, with just that little bit of a bite to give the taste some dimension. Cameo apples were all sweet and juicy goodness, but kind of flat tasting. Maybe I’d enjoy an underripe one better?

I’d eat a cameo apple again in a heartbeat, because the texture can’t be beat. It won’t take the honored position of my favorite apple, but it’s got a place, to be sure.

Have you ever tried cameo apples? What do you think?

I fell back to plan B and browsed the large fruit selection at my Whole Foods Market and saw something that caught my eye — the tangelo.

It attracted me because I saw that it was a hybrid between a grapefruit and a tangerine, two citrus fruits that I am particularly fond of (especially the grapefruit). The small sign also indicated that the skin was easy to remove. Perfect for lunches, just like clementines, I thought to myself. I ended up buying a few of them, not really knowing what to expect.

I couldn’t wait for lunch the next day to try one, so I ripped into it at home after shopping. What did it taste like? Pretty much like a cross between a tangerine and a grapefruit. Go figure. It had the distinct tangerine flavor, along with some extra tangy sourness from the grapefruit. The fruit was really juicy, and indeed, it was relatively easy to peel.

I don’t think the tangelo can rate with a top notch clementine, but I would buy some more in a pinch.

I know it’s weird, but somehow kumquats have evaded me all these years. Until yesterday, I had never eaten a kumquat. They look like miniature oranges, but they sure don’t taste like them.

The inside is so tart that it is pungent; even a little bit salty. The rind balances, though, with its gentle sweetness. The crunchy seeds are almost off-putting, but if you get past the tart and the crunch and you like strong tastes, the kumquat is a refreshing treat. If your taste buds don’t take kindly to tart, then get ready to pucker.

That’s why it’s really fun to give one to your four-year-old to try. You know you want to get the little stinker back for all the sleepless nights, the stretch marks and the impending gray hairs. So give him a kumquat and tell him it’s a little orange. The look on his face when he tastes it will carry you through the next several midnight visits.

In all seriousness, it was not my intention to torture my son with a kumquat. He likes strong tastes — eats lemons like oranges; could devour an entire jar of olives in one sitting — so I figured he’d really enjoy the in-your-face taste of the kumquat. He thought he did, too — at first. As he bit further into the kumquat, though, the look of displeasure soured his cherubic face and the dimples all but disappeared.

They were replaced with what he calls his “silly soda face;” you know the one, when a little kid drinks something fuzzy and reacts with a half pucker / half tongue sticking out, with his eyes mush wider than normal? Yeah, that face. So the kumquat didn’t go over with the preschool demographic.

Would I buy them again? Probably not. Even though I found them refreshing, after a couple of kumquats, I really felt like the acid was getting to me, and this happened twice. I think I’ll stick with grapefruit. All in all, kumquats are a bit much for most members of this house, but it was definitely fun trying them.

I’ve mentioned before that I have a very adventurous appetite. I love to try new things. In the same post I mentioned that my family used to go to a game feast every year, hosted at a local restaurant. One of the meats the I never managed to try in all the years going to the event was goat. I’ve always known that goat was a popular ingredient in Caribbean cuisine, and after seeing it as the secret ingredient on Iron Chef America, I’ve really wanted to try it.

It should be no surprise, then, that when I was out to lunch today at a (very) authentic Mexican taqueria, and saw goat on the menu, I jumped at the opportunity to give it a shot.

The goat was not exactly what I was expecting it to be. I was expecting a very gamey, maybe even tough read meat. The menu said that the goat was “steamed” and I wasn’t really sure what that meant. What I ended up with in my burrito was a shredded, fairly tender meat that was not all that gamey. In fact, it tasted very much like lamb. I suppose some would consider that to be gamey, but I’m not one of those people. I’m guessing that the “steaming” helped to break down and tenderize the meat.

It was in a very tasty burrito which didn’t hurt matters. Stuffed with rice, onions, cheese, meat, guacamole, and cilantro the burrito was good. It was also served with a couple different homemade salsas.

All in all, I thought that the goat was really good. I wouldn’t hesitate to try it again. I also have something to add to all the food I’ve tried, which makes me very happy.

Now, don’t get me wrong, kiddos… I love chocolate as much as the next person. But doesn’t it feel a little done for St. Valentine’s Day? Expected? Predictable? Are you looking for less typical sweet to serve your sweet this year?

But what about a spicy rice pudding that tastes of roses? Now that’s exotic. Romantic, even.

I have been curious to experiment with rose water for some time, so when I happened upon this recipe from Whole Foods, I was excited to give it a go. Even shopping for the ingredients to make this recipe was fun. I took the 6 train downtown to Kalustyan’s in Curry Hill to find my rose water and cardamom pods.  If you’re ever in the city, Kalustyan’s is definitely worth a stop.  The little storefront is stacked top to bottom with every sort of herbs and spices you could ever look for, innumerable varieties of rice and beans, and honey-laden baklava behind the counter.

This rice pudding recipe is definitely on the spicy side, so I was a big fan. The cardamom and nutmeg are intriguing together, but the real surprise was the rose water. I had expected that it would be heavy and cloying. Instead, it tempered the bold flavors of the spices and lent a mild floral aroma to the dish. In the past, I’ve had rice pudding that tasted so strongly of roses that it tasted as much like soap as like pudding, so I added the rose water 1/2 teaspoon at a time.  I was happy with 2 teaspoons instead of the full tablespoon.

I used freshly ground cardamom and nutmeg in my rice pudding. (Despite reading the recipe beforehand, I hadn’t realized it called both for the whole and ground spice!) For the nutmeg, I used my Microplane grater, and for the tiny cardamom seeds from inside the pods, I used a mortar and pestle.  The difference between store-bought and freshly ground spices is astonishing. Grinding your own is well worth the extra couple of minutes, if you have the tools.

This pudding is as much about the milk as the spices — I found 2% milk to be plenty rich for my taste.  Because the milk is reduced, it’s worthwhile to pick up a fresh half gallon, so the milk doesn’t pick up any off tastes in the refrigerator.

Now I have a big ol’ bottle of rose water sitting in my pantry.  Any ideas?

I’m an adventurous eater and I never back away from something different. When I was younger, my whole family and I used to trek to an annual game feast at a local restaurant for about ten years, through the course of which I tried, amongst others: boar, frog, turtle, bear, camel, snake, alligator, beaver, and more … That’s a bit of a digression, but the point is, I like to try new things.

Friday night, I found myself at the local Star Market (because that is the kind of sexy activity I tend to do on Friday nights). My Star Market has a fancy “foods of the world” section, mostly full of crappy MSG-laden Asian and Mexican ingredients. As I was browsing through it, something caught my eye — a rack full of tiny bottles of soda. It was Chubby brand soda (go ahead and have fun with the name, you can get a lot of traction out of it, believe me) from Trinidad and Tobago. What really caught my eye was that one of the flavors was banana. Banana soda?!? How could I pass this up? The answer is that I could not. I finished my shopping and hurried home, excited to get that Chubby (soda) in my mouth!

I cracked open the little bottle and poured it over some ice. The first sign that something was up hit me; there was virtually no carbonation in this so-called soda. The smell was slightly nauseating, akin to twenty or thirty banana scratch-and-sniff stickers. Did that deter me from taking care of my chubby? Hells to the no!

Now, let me, dear reader, try to describe what drinking this “soda” was like. It was as if someone poured corn syrup into a glass of kool-aid that was inexplicably flavored with fake bananas. It was downright viscous and completely devoid of any carbonation; it was some cruel kind of banana excrement. It was syrupy nastiness in a bottle. It was the work of some evil banana-demon. It was unholy. In a word, it was gross. Much worse than the beaver, trust me…

According to my co-worker, this was a cross between a banana and a mango, at least in looks and flavor. It is a tropical fruit that somehow grows in the mid west US. Apparently, it is also the largest fruit that grows in North America. My colleague was a wealth of pawpaw information; so much so that I began to think that he was making things up.

“Did you know Lewis and Clark survived their journey by eating pawpaws?”

“The pawpaw isn’t pollinated by birds or bees, but by flies.”

I was growing more and more suspicious as the conversation went by. He said that you can’t find pawpaws up here in the northeast because they don’t grow here and they don’t hold up well to shipping. He promised that he would mail order some (as he does every year) and bring them in. I wasn’t about to pass up a new culinary experience. As soon as the conversation was over, I jumped on my computer and headed over to wikipedia to look up the pawpaw. Indeed, it does exist and every pawpaw fact he had was true.

While perusing the dried fruit section at Trader Joe’s, my four-year-old and I stumbled upon an new one: dragon fruit. Since the little guy spends half his days dressed up as a knight in shining armor, slaying his life-sized inflatable dragon, he thought that was pretty cool. So, for $1.99, we thought we’d take a chance. Heck, it was high in vitamin C and fiber.

We got home and proceeded to open the package of dried dragon fruit, eager to dig in and discover this new … taste sensation? Let me describe the dried dragon fruit: flat, round discs, about two inches in diameter, a vibrant magenta with purple seeds, just asking to be chomped. So I chomped, and so did the four-year-old.

The verdict?

You know, dragon fruit is pretty tasty. The sugar content was pretty high on the nutrition facts, so I expected it to be sicky- sweet, but it was not, which I was glad of. It’s crunchy and chewy, a teensy bit tart (perfect to me) and, well, healthy-tasting. The seeds pop in your teeth in the most pleasing way, and the rest just sort of melts.

I liked it, the four-year-old liked it, and all was right with the world. We’ve discovered a new snack with a novel texture and color and a high vitamin C content to boot.

But what is dragon fruit? Basically, just the fruit of a cactus, also called pitaya. Sort of a letdown, really. I wanted it to be more exotic. But the good part is that a new food is now part of our repertoire. Three cheers!