A City Great for Cooking

Despite what readers of these pages may have begun to imagine, a hulking slice of chocolate torte was not Food and Paper's last meal. The deathly silence of recent days has not marked its move into that ghost land of abandoned blogs. It has marked its move to Pittsburgh. For now, and for the near future, comforting pastimes of chopping herbs, boiling pasta, and even near failures at pastry making have given way to packing and unpacking boxes, painting rooms, refinishing furniture, and sweating it out in a lovely but unairconditioned Arts and Crafts style house on the east side of the Steel City.

It was not without a few tears that I ordered my last latte at Chapel Hill's finest espresso bar, bid farewell to my miniscule kitchen, and headed north. The family, friends, and food of North Carolina will be sorely missed. But those tears have been dried by Pittsburgh's promise of countless adventures, culinary and otherwise. I have been informed that Pittsburgh is a city "great for cooking" (as in, "not great for dining out.") A stroll through the Strip District and its many butchers, fishmongers, bakeries, and ethnic grocery stores has confirmed that I'll not want for fresh and novel ingredients to bring home to my kitchen. But the kitchen. It is, at best, a poor little kitchen.

Which brings me to an important matter for the writer of a food blog and its few--God bless you--readers. This great Pittsburgh cooking will have to wait. Because...I am renovating my kitchen! What may prove a temporary hardship for the livelihood of Food and Paper as well as for the order of this home will result in a bright and shiny new kitchen. It goes without saying that I am happily entangled in renovation details. Which countertops? Range? Flooring? Single or double basin sink? Can I fit in a dishwasher? What colors? Can I afford this?! I feel like a sweet-toothed kid whose been told she can build her very own candyshop in her bedroom. Stainless steel applilances, subway tiles, and shiny black countertops are dancing like sugar plum fairies in my head.

For many weeks to come in this city great for cooking, however, I'll be banished from my kitchen. I've unpacked some cooking essentials to keep us fed until the demolition begins. A cutting board, a knife, a skillet, a strainer, two wine glasses, two plates, two bowls, and two forks. I've managed to turn out a few meals, but more evenings than not we've been testing Pittsburgh's potential as a city for dining out. I must admit that I'm not yet ready to experience the gastronomic pride of Pittsburgh. Maybe I'll venture it some day when the weather is cooler and I haven't eaten for a few days. I am pleased to say that we have discovered a few very good restaurants here, this one and this one in particular. Pittsburgh, it seems, does have some solace to offer the kitchenless.

A simple spinach salad graces Food and Paper's first pittsburgh post. At the end of a long, hot day of rearranging furniture, fatigue settled in the arms and legs and hunger settled in the belly, this is just the thing to savor before climbing into bed. Add what you will to it. I had a peach and some feta cheese on hand. Consider olives, roasted red peppers, artichokes, or a boiled egg. I don't usually make croutons for salads, but these generously sized specimens, salvaged from a day old piece of bread, transformed this light dish into something a little more substantial. Their buttery crunchiness pairs nicely with the tang of feta and lemon dressing.

Spinach Salad with Peaches
makes 2 large, or 4 small, servings

juice from one lemon, or 3 tablespoons red wine vinegar
1/4 cup olive oil
salt and fresh ground pepper
1 pound of spinach, prewashed and packaged if you like (and I do)
1 ripe but firm peach, cut into slices
a good sized hunk of feta cheese
homeade croutons, recipe below

1. Make dressing: Pour lemon juice (or vinegar) into a large serving bowl. Slowly drizzle in olive oil while whisking quickly. Add salt and pepper to taste.
2. Add spinach and peaches. Toss. Crumble feta on top. Sprinkle with croutons. Top it off with a dusting of fresh ground pepper.

Homeade Croutons

a couple tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon olive oil
a large hunk of stale bread, cut into crouton-sized pieces
1 tablespoon dried green herb of choice (oregano, sage, basil)
salt and pepper

Melt butter and olive oil over medium heat. Add bread. Stir to coat. Cook, stirring occasionally until bread turns golden brown, 10-20 minutes depending on amount of croutons and size of skillet. Stir in dried herbs, salt, and pepper. Cook for a minute more.