Sunshine On a Cloudy Day

Among the many things I've learned this week - including the shocking revalations that I love Los Angeles and this gluttinous sandwich - I discovered I would walk a mile for olive oil cake.

In fact, I walked multiple miles to try Mozza's rosemary olive oil loaf cake last week. And after a long bus ride and walk (and a pit stop my sister will tell you about if you're trustworthy), that little loaf of cake tasted pretty good. But if I'm being honest, it wasn't the cake of my dreams.

That title is reserved for the sunshine-y version I'd made weeks before and declared my new winer cure-all. That cake was delicate and wonderfully moist, with a lingering sweetness and all the warmth of the sunny California coast. Flecked with vanilla beans and brigthened by orange zest, the golden round disappeared quickly as both myself than my husband snitched slivers to get us through the rainy days.

Coming from a girl who previously regarded basic cakes as boring, updating one with olive oil was a revelation. Swapping olive oil for the neutral flavored cooking oil deepened the flavor of an otherwise typical cake and delivered a subtle fruitiness and a spongy texture that left me pining for more. I devoured that first small square of cake alongside a scoop of vanilla bean ice cream; then, not able to contain my craving for more, I stole a bite from my husband's plate and sighed in satisfaction.

I know, I'm cheating again because this isn't really a solo dining recipe. It could sort of fit the bill if you baked it in little loafs a la Mozza to squirrel away in the freezer and warm up whenever you need a pick me up. But I'd advise going big and inviting some friends over to celebrate it. It's just that kind of cake.

Vanilla-Olive Oil Cake
Do not omit the vanilla bean from this cake on account you think it's expensive. I bought my bean from the bulk section for 8 cents, and the recipe - from the wonderful Jess Thomson - wouldn't have been the same without it. If you want to portion this out into single servings, try dividing the batter between those adorable miniature loaf pans or even a muffin tin if that's what you have on hand.

Makes 1 8" cake

Vegetable or olive oil spray
1 cup low fat milk
1 (3-inch) piece vanilla bean, split lengthwise and seeded
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil (like Trader Joe's Spanish Olive Oil)
Zest from one orange

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, and position a rack in the middle of the oven. Grease an 8” cake pan with the oil spray (or line it with parchment paper), and set aside.

In a small saucepan, bring the milk and the seeds from the vanilla bean to a bare simmer. Remove from heat and set aside to steep.

In a medium bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, and salt together to blend. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs and sugar until well blended. Add the warm milk to the egg mixture in a slow, steady stream, whisking until combined. Fold in the flour mixture with a rubber spatula until just incorporated. Add the olive oil and the orange zest, and mix until just blended.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 25 to 35 minutes, or until the cake is golden and just beginning to brown at the edges. Let cool 10 minutes in the pan, then transfer the cake to a cooling rack or platter (depending on if you plan to serve it warm or at room temperature.)
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Adapted (just a wee bit) from Jess Thomson of Hogwash

For as good as I am (or like to think I am) at multitasking, handling two or three tasks in the kitchen at once leaves me feeling frantic. I've never been someone who can simmer a sauce, roast a chicken, boil some pasta and toss a salad all at once; such efforts usually lead to a catastrophe that, while minor, certainly doesn't taste great on my plate.

In the very least I need a sous chef. But with one sous chef away at work and the other having flown south to LA for the winter and beyond, I'm left to tinker at the stove on my own. That position often leaves me making one pot meals like risottos and soups. But I've tired of those options of late and so, this week decided it was time for me to tackle the multi-component, multiple pan meal on my own. 

The thing that got me to take the leap was kale.

I've been eating kale's close cousin, chard, nearly daily, serving it sauteed on the side of my failed lamb experiment and, yes, with an egg. But I haven't picked up kale since my mom grew a patch for me in her garden back when I was an anemic high school-age runner desperately in need of some iron-rich meals.

Mention of a flash-cooked kale in Bon Appetit last month got kale back on my grocery list. The prep for the dish couldn't have been easier. I just needed to wash and roughly chop the kale, throw it in a hot pan with a bit of olive oil and a pat of butter, and let each piece wilt slightly before adding a squeeze of lemon juice and a pinch of salt on top. 

This may sound like another one pan recipe but the story is not quite over because the things I wanted to eat with that kale required more steps, more pans and a carefully timed dance about the kitchen as I multitasked my way from the stove to the table.

I wanted fresh linguine, cooked in a big pot of salted water until it was al dente. There needed to be little nubs of spicy Italian sausage, browned in a swirl of olive oil, slippery red onions for color, but also texture, and then the kale, crunchy-soft and lemony strewn through the noodles.

Somehow the vision of this impromptu dish propelled me to time everything just right, or as close to right as I've come yet. In my harried state, I forgot to toss the onions in with the pasta. No matter, they made a fine garnish and I can always give the dish another chance.

Pasta with Kale
You know, better than I, how much pasta and meat you like to eat for dinner. So tinker with the amounts here until you nail just the right portion to satisfy you if you like. Do not however trim back the amount of kale you use. It is the star of the dish and if your pasta looks more green than brown, trust me, you won't mind a bit. 

1/4 red onion, diced 
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1/4 pound spicy Italian sausage (pork or chicken)
1/4 pound fresh linguine
1/3 bunch of lacinato kale, washed, ribs removed and cut crosswise into 1/2-inch slices
1/2 lemon
Parmesan cheese, for garnish if desired

In a saute pan, cook the onion in 1 tablespoon olive oil until its bite fades and the pieces soften, about 5 minutes. Set aside in a small bowl.

Meanwhile, bring a pan of salted water to boil. Then add another tablespoon of olive oil to the saute pan. Once it is warm, begin cooking the sausage over medium heat.

When the sausage is nearly done, slide the pasta in the pot of boiling water and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, until the noodles are al dente.

Meanwhile, slip a pat of butter and the remaining tablespoon of olive oil in a heavy saute pan. Once the butter has melted, place the kale in the pan. Toss the kale with tongs so every piece touches the hot surface of the pan. Continue cooking and tossing the pieces for a minute or so more, until they are just wilted, then turn off the heat and dress them with a squeeze of lemon juice.

Drain the pasta, leaving a bit of the cooking water in the pan (approximately a few tablespoons or so). Toss the sausage, onions and 1/2 the kale in with the pasta. Plate the dish, and garnish with the remaining kale and parmesan cheese, if desired.