Reaching for it...

Happy New Year! Now that the last drop of Champagne has been poured and the final present exchanged, it's time to face 2012 and all it holds up its sleeve.

For years I stopped making resolutions, because the Type-A in me starts to freak out the minute I cheat on my exercise/relationship/savings/diet goals. Setting myself up for that every year seemed unfair. Then I started creating resolutions that looked more like a list of aspirations--not strict, tangible things to attain, but ideas I wanted to form my year around.

I'm feeling that 2012 is already bringing more clarity than years past. For the year ahead, I'm not making resolutions or aspirations. I'm molding my entire year around one single concept: POTENTIAL.

Potential is a powerful thing with two sides to it. The first is outside potential, which is opportunities and experiences that you're introduced to. Secondly is inward potential, which is generated by simply being honest with yourself.

For example, this year, my inner dialogue sounds more like this: "What am I capable of? Do I have the potential to love, forgive, laugh more? Could I dream bigger? Am I able to raise the bar in a certain area?"

It's amazing how exciting things feel when you give yourself the chance to do more.

I truly feel that when we work on inward potential, the outside potential (at work, home, with friends) becomes limitless. The year seems more promising when you're empowering yourself to be better, instead of creating a large to-do list that never seems to get done.

I hope this idea inspires you do think a bit differently about 2012. Let's fulfill all we are capable of becoming. And while that's happening, keep cooking...

Puff Pastry Pear Tartlets
Courtesy of Food and Wine, Serves 6

1. 2 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2. Salt
3. 1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sliced almonds
4. 6 tablespoons crème fraîche
5. 14 ounces all-butter puff pastry, chilled
6. 1/4 cup pear brandy
7. 4 large Bartlett pears—peeled, cored and cut into 1/2-inch wedges
8. 3/4 cup sugar

1. Preheat the oven to 425°. On a work surface, sprinkle the top of the pastry with 1/4 cup of the sugar and, using a rolling pin, roll the sugar lightly into the dough. Flip the pastry and sprinkle with another 1/4 cup of the sugar. Roll out the pastry to a 12-by-16-inch rectangle. Using a 4-inch round plate as a template, cut out six rounds of pastry.
2. Transfer the pastry rounds to a parchment paper–lined baking sheet and poke them all over with a fork. Top with another sheet of parchment and baking sheet and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the pastry is lightly browned. Remove the top sheet and parchment paper and bake the rounds for 10 minutes longer, until caramelized. Slide the paper and pastry rounds onto a rack and let cool.
3. Meanwhile, in a very large skillet, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter. Add the pears and cook over high heat, tossing gently, until barely softened, about 2 minutes. Add the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar and cook over high heat, stirring occasionally, until lightly caramelized, about 5 minutes. Remove the skillet from the heat and add the pear brandy. Return the skillet to the heat and cook until the liquid is nearly evaporated, about 2 minutes.
4. In a small skillet, melt the remaining 1/2 tablespoon of butter. Add the sliced almonds and cook over high heat, stirring, until golden, 3 minutes. Transfer the almonds to a plate and sprinkle with salt.
5. Dollop the crème fraîche on the pastry rounds and top with the pears and almonds. Serve right away.

Take out your pencils and pasta.

This past weekend, I had the ultimate pleasure of catering a day-long writing workshop on writing food memoirs. The organization, Girls Write Now, mentors at-risk, underserved teenage girls who are aspiring writers. They are also the only organization that combines youth mentoring and writing instruction in an all-girl atmosphere. I thought the concept was amazing before attending the workshop on Saturday. Now that I've heard and read writing samples by these creative, talented young women, I can tell you that what they are doing at Girls Write Now is truly special and unique.

The girls had a special workshop planned already, with craft talks given by esteemed chefs and writers, Gabrielle Hamilton, Julie Powell and Cheryl Tan. But given the theme of food writing and the holiday season, I thought they also needed some festive food offerings with interesting flavors and textures to inspire their writing even more. They needed holiday cookies. They needed tea sandwiches. And of course, they needed pasta. I've yet to find an occasion, holiday or menu that couldn't benefit from a hearty pasta dish and Saturday was no exception.

This recipe, courtesy of Chef Scott Conant, combines the flavors of the season with interesting texture and bright colors. The butternut squash lends a certain meatiness to the dish, while the crispy pancetta gives a salty bite to each forkful. Torn sage instantly evokes the smells and flavors of the holidays.

Note: This recipe calls for 3/4 lb. of pasta. Never in my life have I opened a box of pasta without cooking the entire pound. For shame. I cooked the whole box and simply upped the quantities of the remaining ingredients here and there. I encourage you to do the same--second helpings will definitely be served. 

Penne with Roasted Buttnernut Squash, Pancetta and Sage
Serves 4

• • 
    
• • 1 medium (about 2 1/4 pounds) butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1/2-inch pieces (about 3 cups)
• 1/4 cup olive oil
• Coarse salt
• 3/4 pound penne pasta
• 3 ounces pancetta, sliced 1/4 inch thick and finely chopped
• 2 shallots, thinly sliced crosswise
• 1/4 teaspoon crushed red pepper, flakes
• 10 fresh sage leaves, coarsely chopped or torn
• 1/2 cup finely grated pecorino Romano cheese, plus more for serving
• 1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Place butternut squash on a rimmed baking sheet and toss with 1 tablespoon of olive oil; season with salt. Transfer to oven and roast until squash is browned and tender, about 15 minutes.
2. Bring a large pot of water to a boil over high heat. Generously salt water and return to a boil. Add pasta and cook until al dente, according to package directions. Drain pasta, reserving 1/2 cup cooking liquid. Set pasta and reserved cooking liquid aside.
3. Meanwhile, heat remaining 3 tablespoons olive oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Add pancetta and cook until just crisp, 4 to 5 minutes. Add shallots, crushed red pepper, and sage. Cook until shallots are soft, 4 to 5 minutes. Add penne and squash and toss gently, adding reserved pasta cooking liquid as necessary to moisten.
4. Add cheese and black pepper and cook, tossing gently, until pasta and squash are heated through. Serve immediately with more grated cheese, if desired.

How to dine out with the boss.

There are small number of people in my life that pop up, every month or so, like clockwork, with the same question:

"My boss wants restaurant recommendations/I'm going to lunch with my boss/My company is taking out clients. Where should we go?"

The whole dining-out-with-superiors situation can be an intimidating one, especially if you're the one suggesting the location. I've answered this question enough to have formed a definitive an opinion on what is and what is certainly NOT okay when it comes to choosing a restaurant.

My DON'T list will hopefully come in handy. Or at least it will alleviate one layer of awkwardness the next time you and the Big Cheese break bread.

DON'T choose a restaurant....

-That offers a too-trendy menu. Assuming that your boss will be into fried, bacon-wrapped hot dogs topped with kimchi is a mistake.

-That does tapas. Sharing may be awkward and ordering one small plate to avoid sharing will leave you both starved and grouchy.

-Whose entire staff either wears skin-tight denim, rocks the bed head, looks too cool to wait tables, or sports disturbing, nature-defying facial hair.

-That's brand new. There are kinks to be worked out, lines to wait in, and music that will have your boss feeling older that he/she is when said boss realizes they can't hear a thing.

-That's too old. If your boss is successful, it's for a reason. They think ahead of the curve, are smart and on their toes. Being surrounded by retired geriatrics at a sleepy, Upper East Side piano bar insults their relevance and hip-to-the-jive sensibility.

-That's too expensive. Unless they say, "I'm looking for a three Michelin star experience," the main course shouldn't cost more than $35. Tops. If it does, it's probably coming out of your bonus, you ingrate.

-Known for it's avant-garde menu. A riff on my first point, your boss may not appreciate being unfamiliar with everything on the menu. Creativity is fine, but sous vide sweetbreads served en croute with confit byaldi and Parmesan foam? I think not.

That said, stick to the classics, take note of the type of food they usually eat, play it safe and throw in a curve ball once in a while. It's just a meal, after all.

Bon Reservation-Making!

Good Eats: John's of 12th Street

"Do you use the internet? Facebook, Twitter? Tell your friends about us," urged Mike, a tall, roundish man in a pastel pink shirt that hinted at his jovial disposition. Not that Mike, co-owner of John's of 12th Street, had to twist my arm in order for me to talk up his restaurant.

John's of 12th Street, or simply John's as it's called by loyal customers, is the 10th oldest continuously operating restaurant in New York City. Founded in 1908, the Southern Italian menu (read: eggplant rollatini, spaghetti and meatballs, et al.) has managed to stay relevant and perhaps even progress ahead of the times by offering a complete vegan Italian menu in addition to the classic fare.

Basically, every restaurant should be as smart as this one. My carnivorous husband can order Baked Lasagna with meat sauce while I order Seitan alla Rosa? (Seitan is a meat substitute made of wheat gluten. This was smothered in artichokes, peppers and mushrooms with Marsala wine sauce. Get on that.)
Suddenly every debate on where to have dinner and what type of dinner we were going to have (healthy vs. comfort vs. veggie vs. meat) seems ridiculous. John's has the best of every world and brings it to you with a smile.

I was nearly reduced to tears by the service alone. In true old-school Italian fashion--old habits die hard--every waiter was a young, pleasant, attractive man. Zero complaints about that, although my husband asked me why I was smiling so much. Tables had linens, waitstaff used crumbers, no one was rushed and music volume was kept in check.

I'm not sure if the Pinot Noir was starting to overthrow my good judgement, but I was so enthralled at discovering this gem that I nearly passed over the dessert menu. Then I saw one word: Lulu's.

Lulu's Sweet Apothecary is just about the best vegan ice cream you'll find. It doesn't matter that it's missing cow's milk, eggs, and sugar. It swiftly kicks 'normal' ice cream to the curb. I opted for two scoops of cookies n' cream. I got three. I said we'd share it and asked for two spoons. I shared nothing.

John's of 12th Street does something that is increasingly hard to do in New York dining: it bridges classic and modern menus without sacrificing personal style. Finding a vegan meal in a restaurant that doesn't channel Woodstock and Janis Joplin is rare. Eating it in a refined, familial environment is special. Giving customers healthier options without abandoning your culinary point of view (i.e.: veggie burgers and other random vegetarian dishes) is an accomplishment.

Grazie, John's. Now go check it out!