Some people have their broccoli-cheese casserole; I have this: penne with blue cheese and broccoli. It’s filled with the same comforting overload of starch and gooey cheese but has an added element of danger provided by tangy blue cheese and generously-applied red pepper flakes. I’ve been making this dish for years — I distinctly remember cooking it in high school — and if there is broccoli in the refrigerator and I’m feeling lazy or uncreative this pasta is inevitable. I don’t mind the repetition though; this is a dish that lingers on the table as forks seek out one last bite, and then another.

I think the original recipe was published in the New York Times but I can’t locate it online. In any case, I’ve cooked this without the recipe enough times that I’m willing to claim it for my own.

Penne with Blue Cheese and Broccoli

• 6 oz blue cheese, crumbled
• 4 Tbsp butter
• 1 clove of garlic, minced or pressed through a garlic press
• Black pepper
• Red pepper flakes
• Salt
• 2 medium heads of broccoli, florets separated, stems discarded or reserved for other use
• 1# penne

Bring plenty of salted water to a boil in a large stockpot. Place blue cheese, butter, garlic, and salt, pepper and red pepper to taste in a large mixing bowl. Place the bowl over the stockpot while it is heating to soften the cheese and butter. When water boils, add pasta. After about 4 minutes have passed, add the broccoli. When pasta is done to your liking, drain pasta and broccoli, reserving some of the water to adjust the consistency of the sauce. Toss pasta and broccoli with butter-bue cheese mixture. Adjust seasoning and serve.

In one of my first posts on this blog I declared my love for harissa, the spicy North African red pepper spread. Since then I have strayed a bit: our jar of harissa run out, I began to flirt with other spicy red pastes – I was not immune the the trendy allure of sriracha. But when Martha made hlelem recently, I was reminded of my former love. With sausage on the brain lately, a freshly-opened jar of harissa had me thinking one thing: merguez.

A sausage popular in North Africa and Europe, merguez is usually made with lamb. This makes sense — there are a lot of pastoralists raising flocks of sheep in North Africa most of whom are Muslim — pork is neither practical nor permitted. But since I’m free of religious obligations or cultural sensitivity, pork was definitely an option and one too delicious to ignore. The argument could be made that a pork sausage is not really merguez, but I say as long as there’s harissa I’ll not worry about fine distinctions.

As I was searching the Internet for recipes, I was disappointed to see that many contain only a small amount of harissa: 3 tablespoons per 3# of meat, for example. To make up for this deficiency most recipes add other spices (cayenne, coriander, cumin, sumac, etc.). This might be traditional, but I didn’t see how adding additional spices would help; the flavor of the harissa ought to be flavor enough. My final recipe was:

• 1# 5 oz boneless pork shoulder
• 10 g garlic (3 cloves)
• 50 g harissa
• 15 g salt

If harissa is the only thing a sausage has to lean on in terms of flavor, the success of the recipe obviously depends on the quality of the harissa. Someday I will make my own harissa (and you can be sure you’ll be hearing about it here), but with a jar already open I used Mustapha’s. This is, after all, the harissa I fell in love with; I haven’t sampled other brands very widely.

I served the sausage with a cous cous-based taboulli.

The weather in Minneapolis has been a bit off-and-on lately. That is, spring is definitely on its way in, but after a couple of amazing 70 and 80 degree days, 50 starts to seem chilly! That just means it’s time for a little chili! We first tried this Vegetarian Chili on a Friday during Lent and really liked it. If you’re looking for some spice on a cold spring day, it’s worth a try.

As you can see my preparation was not vegan, but it could easily be made so. We topped our bowls with plain yogurt, cheese, and scallions. The trick for this meal was to attempt eating an entire bowl without using silverware. I’m not sure the “Fritos Scoops Challenge” is a healthy choice, but they were just the salty-crunch we needed (I lost… I gave in and used a spoon).

The recipe (via Whole Foods’ website)

• 2 tablespoons olive or canola oil 
• 1 medium yellow onion, chopped 
• 1 large carrot, chopped 
• 1 stalk celery, chopped 
• 1 medium green bell pepper, cored, seeded and chopped 
• 1 medium red bell pepper, cored, seeded and chopped 
• 3 cloves garlic, finely chopped 
• 1 to 3 tablespoons finely chopped chipotles in adobo 1 tablespoon dried oregano 
• 2 teaspoons ground cumin 
• 1 tablespoon chili powder 
• 1 1/2 teaspoons salt 
• 1 (28-ounce) can diced tomatoes, with their liquid 
• 3 cups cooked red kidney beans, drained 
• 1 1/2 cups cooked black beans, drained

Heat the oil in a large pot over medium heat. Add onions, carrots, celery, peppers and garlic and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, until vegetables are softened but not browned. Add chipotles, oregano, cumin, chili powder and salt. Stir to blend. Add tomatoes and 4 cups water. Gently simmer over low heat, uncovered, for 45 minutes. Add beans and simmer an additional 30 minutes. Garnish individual bowls with green onions or sour cream [we used yogurt], if desired.

Despite the impression you might get from reading this blog, sometimes I don’t feel like cooking. Luckily, I have a lot of options: I can go out or Martha might cook. Or hot dogs.

Hot dogs are not all that exciting, but that is no reason not to try a beer pairing—in fact it’s a great reason to try a beer pairing! Beer is such a great beverage because is that it is fit for the feasts of kings and peasants alike.

A trip to Trader Joe’s yielded the night’s beer: Samuel Smith’s Old Brewery Pale Ale. Since I had just finished the chapter in The Brewmaster’s Table on British beers it was the perfect bottle to try.

Here are Garret Oliver’s notes on this particular brew:

…a copper-colored beer with a big fluffy head. There’s that Yorkshire nose—hay, apples, butterscotch, and hops. The beer hits the palate with a mineral tang, then softens and rounds out to a dry biscuity malt enter. The finish is clean and flinty. This beer is big enough for steak, juicy enough for roast beef, and subtle enough for lamb. I also enjoy it with terrine en croûte, as do the British, though terrine en croûte sounds a lot better than “pork pie.”

Copper color, fluffy head, check.

Pork pie, huh? That’s basically a hot dog. Actually, the hot dogs are all beef, but it sounds like this beer is up for anything. Even harissa? I slathered some on my bun along with  some of the excellent Trader Joe’s Dijon and then sprinkled on some relish and raw onions because, after all, this was a hot dog.

The pairing worked pretty well. The affinity was mostly due to the beer’s carbonation’s ability to break through the spicy harissa. I also thought the smokiness of the hotdogs was pleasant when contrasted with the slight fruitiness of the ale. I was pretty surprised after finishing my hot dog that as I was drinking the last of my beer I noticed a very strong taste of licorice. I’m not sure if it would have helped the hot dog at all but I was excited to be able to actually identify this very specific flavor on the beer.