Recipe: Fig Flatbread

If you're worrying about  or how you can appease your dinner party guests while you run around like a headless chicken in the kitchen trying to make sure your pork cutlets are pounded and your cocktails are mixed, figs are the answer.

They're gorgeous without trying, the perfect size for snacking, and harmonize easily with both savory and sweet flavors. The names alone are alluring - Green Kadota, Black Mission, Calimyrna - I mean, come on - they're the sexiest fruit out there! They're at the peak of their season here in California, but the season is short. Go forth and gather all the figs you can NOW, hear me?

Besides buying every type I can find, cutting them open to show their jeweled insides, and pairing them with salty meats and cheeses, I love to use figs on flatbread. I buy pre-made levain for its thin, light, crunchy ease, but you could also make a homemade focaccia or pizza dough if you're feeling industrious or want something more substantial for a main dish.

 

Fig Flatbread with Chevre & Reduced Balsamic

Preheat your oven to 375°. On two cookie sheets, lay out 4 sheets of levain flatbread. Sprinkle generously with olive oil and sea salt and use a pastry brush or your fingers to spread the oil to all the corners. If you have some on hand, a generous dusting of za'atar is also a nice touch here. 

Pop the flatbreads in the oven and bake for 5 minutes, or until they start to crisp. Don't let them get too brown because they'll be going back into the oven.

While the flatbreads are pre-baking, slice 1 pound of figs into half inch slices. When the flatbreads emerge from the oven, arrange the sliced figs on top and crumble about 6 ounces chevre cheese over the figs. Other cheeses would be great here as well - shredded parmesan, manchego, and feta especially. Use what you have on hand, and don't pay too much attention to measurements.

Return the figged-out flatbreads to the oven and bake an additional 10-15 minutes, or until the figs have softened and the levain is lightly browned on the edges.

Remove from the oven and allow to cool. Slice into bite-sized pieces an scatter with finely sliced basil and a few squirts of balsamic vinegar reduction (found at most grocery stores or easily made by boiling balsamic until it's 1/4 of its original volume). 

Allow someone else to open the wine, and enjoy the ease of your guests stuffing their faces until you're ready for the rest of dinner to emerge!



Tell me a story...

And I'll tell you a menu. 

Next Tuesday, I'll be trying something I haven't done before - a five course dinner. We're going to tell stories about our firsts - worst first dates, first travel adventures, first kisses -- and we're going to have a damn good time.

You can buy tickets here.

This is what I'm making:

Recipe: Melon Tower Salad (for hot days)

This post originally appeared a few days ago as a guest blog on Kellan's Kitchen. It's the first in a three-part series on savory fruit dishes. Kellan is an amazing private chef in the Bay Area and Tahoe - check out his site!

I'm currently sitting in my parents' kitchen on a cool 95° day in Chico. All I can think about it how nice this salad would taste right now (if I only had the ingredients!) and how guilty I'd feel if I didn't share it with you before summer in San Francisco really gets kicking. 

Melon Towers

Serves 8

Confession time: I’m a single lady with a bad fruit shopping habit. This time of year is especially tough - the glut of rosy stone fruit, taut melons, and perfect shiny berries at my local farmer’s market always makes me feel guilty if I don’t take home some of every kind.

As much as I’d like to eat pies and crisps all day and as likely as I am to gorge on watermelon straight over the sink, I needed to find a different route to using summer fruit, lest it be relegated to the compost bin. Savory dishes provide the perfect answer to this very good problem to have - a touch of sweetness can often temper a great savory dish, and a touch of sour or savory can bring out flavors you didn't realize a fruit had. 

Melon and feta salads are nothing new, but this recipe elevates them to new heights (pun intended). It’s simple and works very well for a summer dinner party, especially since you’ll need several melons to get the best rainbow effect and eating several melons on your own is tough. If you just have one melon or are looking to keep things simple, feel free to make a deconstructed version with cubed or balled melon.

  • 3 chilled melons of varying types & colors, including at least one watermelon (seedless preferable)
  • 3 limes
  • one small bunch of mint, stems removed
  • one small red onion or large shallot
  • 1 cup crumbled feta (French is nice)
  • high-quality extra virgin olive oil
  • finishing salt such as Maldon

Slice the muskmelons (those with a cavity in the middle) in half width-wise and scoop out any seeds. Slice all melons into 1-inch round slices and set aside.

For each salad, stack one slice of each type of melon on your cutting board. Try to find rounds that match up size-wise, and put the watermelon on top so the hole will be covered. With a sharp knife, cut down the sides of the stack to remove the rind. Squeeze a lime over the stack (I make sure to get in between the layers, too) and transfer the stack to a plate.

With a mandolin or very sharp knife, slice the onion into fine slivers and set aside. Cut your mint into ribbons. If your knife is not sharp and is bruising the mint, try tearing it instead.

Top each melon stack with a small amount of finishing salt, a few onion slices, a sprinkle of mint, and some feta crumbles. A drizzle of oil on the plate adds a beautiful finishing touch. Serve chilled with a glass of fruit-forward rosé.

7S Supper Club Storytelling Series

Storytelling is how we survive. The story feeds the spirit, the imagination. I can’t imagine life without stories, stories from my parents, my culture. Stories from other people’s parents, their culture. That’s how we learn from each other, it’s the best way...it connects us, heart to heart
— Alice Walker

Hey everyone! I have something to admit.

Sometimes dinner parties aren't that fun for some people.

It's an odd thing to say considering the whole premise of my Supper Club assumes that any ol' group of strangers should be able to get along fabulously (especially after the first glass of wine), but sometimes group dynamics either don't click or leave one or more people feeling edged out of the conversation. 

In the past, I've attempted to mitigate this risk by putting out butcher paper & crayons for idle hands to play with. Lately, I've been thinking about more intentional ways of making sure that the conversation remains relevant for everyone present. The word "theme" kind of scares me off (I'm one of very few San Franciscans who avoids costumes), but I wanted there to be a common thread.

Inspired by The Yellow Table (thanks for the tip, Heather!), I decided to start a series of storytelling dinners. Telling a great story is an art, and it's also leaps and bounds more interesting than any "I work for this company" or "I've been to 25 countries" blither blather. I hope the stories that unravel over dinner will be every bit as juicy as the fruit course!

The first storytelling series topic will be (appropriately enough): "FIRSTS." Dinner will be served at 7pm on August 14th.

Start thinking of your stories now and I'll start planning the menu!

-Sophie

 

just in time for summer...

7S Supper Club is back! After a haitus spent finding housing (success!), building this website, and wrapping up the last few weeks of my full time job, I'm finally back in my chef's apron and excited to host my first dinner party at my new home. 

This meal will make use of July's juciest jems. Figs! Melons! Tomatoes! I'm excited to pounce on the best looking specimens I can find on my market crawls. I hope you'll join me to enjoy them! 

July 13th | 7pm 

Recipe: Sophie-style tacos (i.e. what I cook for myself)

I live in San Francisco's Mission District - home of a thousand taquerias, pupuserias, and taco trucks. Delicious, no doubt - but the meat always makes me squirm a little and I've yet to be satisfied by any vegetarian option. Far better (and cheaper) are these tacos, which I cook for myself at least once a week. They're the perfect single girl food (and also tend to really impress a date).

Tacos Sophie

Serves 1 single person

Heat a skillet to medium and add a glug of olive oil. Add any vegetable you like - I use hearty greens most often (kale, chard, beet greens) but I've also used onions, zucchini, and broccolini. Cook over medium heat until vegetable are cooked through. Add a dash of salt and pepper.

While veggies are cooking (don't forget to stir them every once in a while), get out a heavy skillet and fry two corn tortillas in a pat of butter over medium-high heat. When one side is lightly crisped, flip the tortillas and sprinkle the crispy side with grated pepper jack cheese (I am a diehard pepper jack fan). Let second side crisp a bit, then flip again to fry the cheese (yes, you heard me right). Don't touch! Let the cheese get crispy for a few minutes. It's done when it easily releases from the pan but there's still some cheese that's melty but not fried. 

Top with cooked veggies, warmed black beans, and any/all of the following toppings:

  • chopped cilantro
  • sour cream
  • avocado
  • sriracha
  • a smear of hummus
  • finely chopped cabbage
  • radishes (watermelon radish pictured here)
  • sauerkraut (my favorite!) or some fermented curtido (Salvadorian kraut). Rainbow Grocery has an awesome version by Wild West ferments (see below - yummy probiotics!)
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Recipe: Borage Raita

My mom, who traveled through India and Nepal for two years in the 80s, often cooked curries and mulligatawny as I was growing up. She always served them with raita, a yogurt sauce that cooled and lightened the fiery, rich flavors of the meal.

At the Tuesday morning Ferry Building Farmer's Market this week, I saw something I didn't recognize: a fuzzy green and grey tangle with blue flowers and thick stems. The Heirloom Organics gal told me it was borage - an herb one can use in salads, pestos, teas, and tinctures.

The flavor of borage leaves is very close to cucumber - a fuzzier, less crunchy version. Remembering my mother's raita, which combined grated cucumber with whole plain yogurt, I made this little dip:

In a small food processor or with a stick blender, combine 3/4 cup finely chopped borage leaves and stems (set the flowers aside) with a big glug of olive oil and half a garlic clove. Pulse until leaves resemble a rough pesto, and mix with with one cup of full fat, plain yogurt (Greek works too),  1 Tbs VERY finely chopped red onion or shallot and a pinch of salt -- mix well. 

For an added twist, you could add 1/4 cup finely chopped herbs - dill, parsley, cilantro, or any combination of the three would be nice.

Top the dip with a swirl of good olive oil and a sprinkle of the borage flowers. Enjoy with curry or as a dip for bread.