I don’t know what to say.

It’s well into February and I haven’t posted here in what feels like forever. We’ve been cooking up a storm, working on projects in the kitchen, eating some truly wonderful things, but I just haven’t had it in me to post.

There’s so much to tell you. But I can’t talk about it just yet.

I do want to talk about this pasta, though. It seems like every time I talk about this dish, something big happens. I last posted about it here in 2007, to an enthusiastic response.

Almost a year later, with Mike in New Orleans for Tales of the Cocktail and me at home in Providence, I watched wide-eyed as my site meter shot skyward, topping out at 12,127 hits – twelve thousand, one hundred twenty seven hits – thanks to a post on a Yahoo! Shine blog which linked out to that old Linguine con Sarde post.

And now my recipe for this dish, this humble pantry supper I’ve been making for us for years, is the latest addition to the second food52 cookbook.

As in book one’s scallop competition, I was up against the incredibly talented cook melissav, and today, I learned that my Linguine with Sardines, Fennel and Tomato came out on top in the voting. Sardines with pasta! People are cooking this, and enjoying it, people are eating sardines, and that’s not just big, it’s huge. I couldn’t be happier, or more proud.

To all of you who voted, who commented, who are a constant source of support and inspiration, THANK YOU.

I’m in commuter hell this week – I’ve had a succession of early or late buses in the morning, consistently late trains, and unplanned cab rides home from the train station which, in addition to being annoyingly expensive and sometimes terrifying, have put me in a big ole cranky mood in the evening, and craving exactly what we’ve been trying to get away from – comfort food.

I sat on the train in my work clothes drenched to the bone after a rain-soaked spin through the Boston Public Market on Tuesday, with tomatoes and fennel and green beans and squash globes and all sorts of other goodies in my totes, and decided a big veg-laden soup was in order. After I got home, I peeled off my damp clothes and changed into something warm and dry, and then I got to chopping: slender leeks, carrots, fresh celery, beautifully ripe plum tomatoes, sweet red peppers, globe zucchini, fresh thyme branches and green beans all went into my pot at various stages, sprinkled with salt and bathed in dribbles of olive oil and a judicious amount of red wine as they cooked down. I added a little bit of orzo to the mix, and when it was tender, added a good amount of freshly grated parm to the soup off the heat. I blitzed up a fresh parsley and fennel frond pistou in the mini chopper to spoon on top, and served up our soup with a few thick slices of Olga’s Pane Francese and some gooey, runny cheese from Farmstead.

As antidotes go, this was just about perfect.

Temps reached record highs in Little Rhody yesterday, and as I sat in my air-conditioned office in Boston, I knew there was no freaking way our planned Wednesday night dinner was going to happen in our not-yet-air conditioned carriage house kitchen.

I wasn’t inclined to cook at all, in fact, and began a mental inventory of fridge and pantry to try to figure out my game plan. I love a big salad for dinner on a sweltering night, and it wasn’t long before I had a few good candidates in mind.

We’ve always got the ingredients for what we call an “indoor picnic” on hand – good cheeses and cured meats, tinned fish, olives and other brined and pickled things, but our fresh vegetable options were somewhat scarce, and a special trip to the store was out of the question. I did have a big bulb of fennel in the crisper, and decided to use it as my base and go from there.

In the end I went with something that was a little bit like an antipasto salad, with shades of giardiniera and panzanella thrown in for good measure, a crisp-crunchy-tart-tender-tangy melange of shaved fennel and red onion, lightly pickled cauliflower and carrots, roasted red peppers, capers, chunks of Crespone salami and Parmagiano Reggiano, and garlicky homemade croutons, all in a zippy red wine vinaigrette.

This salad was surprisingly hearty, but the crunchy texture and the brightness of the flavors kept it from feeling heavy. Best of all, I got it on the table without breaking a sweat.

Mike and I are big fans of a good main dish salad, but we don’t often do them during the winter months. I got an idea in my head, though, after a recent visit to Mercato del Mare, to put together a salad inspired by a dish we had at B&G Oysters last year.

The star was a chunk of their gorgeous house-smoked bluefish, skinned and sliced thin on the bias, served on a bed of baby winter greens, with crisp watermelon radishes and tart pickled fennel strewn about. To give the salad a bit more heft, I added some wedges of hard-cooked egg, and I drizzled it all with a dressing made of creme fraiche, fresh lemon juice, freshly grated horseradish, and a blob of grainy mustard. Colorful and surprisingly hearty, this salad was just the what I needed at the end of a long, hectic day.

Yesterday was not one of my better days. My stomach was churning as much as my mind was, and my lack of appetite made it hard to think about what to make for dinner. By the time I was halfway home, I had decided on soup, but it wasn’t until I remembered the tomatoes on the counter that a plan took shape.

You see, I bought those tomatoes, green, at the last day of the Hope Street farmers’ market at Lippitt Park. My intent was to pickle them, or at the very least to fry them, but they sat on a plate on the counter, forgotten and turning from green to pink to ripe red. November tomatoes – a gift. I had to use them, and while they were surprisingly fragrant when I cut into them, I figured the best way to coax as much flavor out of them as possible would be to roast them.

I also had fennel from the weekend market – not a planned purchase, but when I saw those green fronds peeking out at the Simmons Farm table, I couldn’t resist. The fennel would get roasted, too, then the roasted vegetables and all of their rich juices would go into a pot of broth and shallot softened in butter. That done, I pureed it all until smooth, a little tickled at the beautiful orangey hue the soup took on as everything blended together. The soup didn’t really need the cream I added at the end, but it was Monday, and a little extra softness is always welcome on a Monday, don’t you think?

You can get the recipe at food52.

Commuting to Boston can be rough, and it makes for some very long days (12 hours from the time I leave in the morning to the time I walk through the door in the evening, assuming I don’t work late or have train delays), but it’s worth it for many reasons. Like Providence, Boston is a great food town, and it’s a treat to venture out on my lunch break to source out items for dinner.

One of my favorite discoveries since moving back to this part of the country is Mercato del Mare (a/k/a “the cutest fish market ever“), a jewel box of a store located in the North End. Since Friday was grey and gloomy, I decided to head to the store to pick up ingredients for a light but warming seafood stew.

In a riff on my standard preparation, I decided to toss some Point Judith calamari into the mix. I generally grill or fry calamari, but since tasting a red wine-braised version at Farm Fresh Rhode Island’s Local Food Fest over the summer, I have been eager to try a long-cooked preparation, and the calamari turned out as meltingly tender as I had hoped it would be.

Seafood Stew with Saffron, Tomatoes and Fennel

½ lb. calamari, cleaned (bodies, tentacles or a mix of both)
½ lb. skinless, firm-fleshed white fish (I used cod), cut into 1 inch chunks
½ lb. shrimp, peeled and deveined
½ lb. cockles or other small clams, scrubbed
2 T extra virgin olive oil
kosher or sea salt
1 cup diced shallot, red onion, or leek
a big pinch of saffron
¼ cup dry white vermouth
1 28 oz. can whole peeled plum tomatoes with their juices (I prefer San Marzano), lightly crushed
1 cup peeled and cubed russet potato
½ cup chopped fennel bulb
1 cup water

In a heavy-bottomed soup pot, heat the olive oil over medium heat until shimmering. Add half of the shallot, onion or leek and a big pinch of salt, stir to coat with oil, and cook for a few minutes until beginning to soften. Slice the calamari bodies into rings. Add the calamari rings (and tentacles, if using) and another pinch of salt, and stir to coat with the oil. Clear a spot in the center of the pan and crumble in the saffron, letting it toast briefly before stirring through. Add the vermouth and the tomatoes with their juices. Stir and let cook over medium heat until it just comes to a boil, then reduce the heat to low and cover. Let cook for 1 hour, stirring occasionally, and partially uncovering if the heat is too high. Add the potato, fennel and remaining onion, plus up to a cup of water and a pinch more salt, stir and let cook until the potatoes are just tender. Add the chunks of fish, the shrimp, and the cockles at the end, letting them simmer in the hot broth until they are just cooked through – about 5 minutes should do. Remove from heat and ladle the stew into wide, shallow bowls. Serve with plenty of toasted garlic-rubbed bread on the side.

(Weekend Eats (and Drinks) will return next week.)

Some nights it’s nice to just not cook at all. Thanks to Farmstead, Seven Stars Bakery, Red Fire Farm and Kimball Fruit Farm for some truly delicious goodies.

To those of you who made your way over here from Mike’s post at the Mixoloseum blog, welcome! He promised I’d have a recipe for you, and here it is. One thing I’ll make note of is that while this recipe made a dozen smallish corn cakes, the right size for a light starter with our Seelbach cocktails before dinner, you could definitely scale the size of your cakes up or down, making one-bite minis for a party hors d’oeuvre, or larger cakes to serve for lunch or a light dinner. Use the freshest sweet corn you can, and if you can’t find blue cornmeal, regular yellow or white cornmeal should work just fine.

Blue Corn Cakes with Tomato and Fennel Relish

For the corn cakes:
1 cup stone-ground blue cornmeal (we like Kenyon’s)
¼ cup all-purpose flour
½ tbsp baking powder
1 teaspoon of kosher or sea salt
1 cup water
1 cup fresh corn kernels, stripped from the cob
¼ cup diced red onion or shallot
oil, butter, or other fat for frying (I used rendered fatback for the flavor and the higher smoking point, but feel free to use whatever you like)

In a large bowl, combine the dry ingredients (cornmeal through salt). Using a fork, gently stir in the water a little at a time, adding more if it’s too thick (it should have body, but be pourable like a pancake batter). Add the corn kernels and onion and stir to incorporate. Heat a couple of tablespoons of the fat in an iron skillet, griddle, or other frying pan, and ladle out 3 to 4 ¼ cup portions of batter. Cook on one side until the cake releases easily from the pan, adding more fat if necessary, then flip. Continue cooking until the second side is browned, then remove the cakes to a tray lined with paper towels. Repeat until you have used all of the batter. You can keep these warm in a low oven until you’re ready to serve them, or serve them at room temp.

Tomato and Fennel Relish

kosher or sea salt
1-2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/3 cup diced fennel bulb
½ pint small grape, pear or cherry tomatoes, diced
fennel fronds for garnish

Whisk the sea salt and lemon juice together in a small bowl until the salt is dissolved, then whisk in the olive oil until the dressing is emulsified. Add the fennel bulb and tomatoes, toss gently, and let sit briefly before spooning onto the finished corn cakes. Garnish each dressed cake with a few feathery fennel fronds before serving.

I have been battling a dreadful summer cold for nearly a week now, and the comedy of errors that was my Monday didn’t help matters at all. Rhode Island still celebrates V-J day, and because of the holiday the buses were running on a holiday schedule. There was another bus line that could get me to my train on time, but I reached the bottom of the very steep hill we live on just in time to see it whizzing by.

A sticky mile and a half later, I was at the train station, too late for my usual train but just in the nick of time to board the next commuter rail train. I arrived in Boston, trudged through the thick air to my building, and was greeted at my desk by stacks and stacks of files, all demanding my attention. I kept my head down, focused, and made a sizable dent in my backlog by the end of the day, then headed back to South Station, dreaming of home.

I’ll spare you details of the chaotic mess that my evening commute turned into, but suffice it to say that by the time I walked into the kitchen, only comfort food would do – comfort food, and the bottle of Domaine Tempier Bandol rose that had been chilling for days, awaiting the day that my sense of smell and my taste buds returned to normal.

So despite the heat, I turned on the oven and got to work on this summer vegetable gratin. I built many layers of colorful vegetables – thin coins of zucchini and blue potato, ripe red tomato, shaved fennel and sliced eggplant. I spread a garlicky opal basil pesto between each layer, covered the top of my baking dish (I used a loaf pan) loosely with foil, and slid it onto a baking sheet.

After about 30 minutes in a 400 degree oven, I removed the foil and added a mixture of fresh breadcrumbs, grated parmesan, and provencal herbs to the top. It went back into the oven until the topping was golden brown, then I pulled it out of the oven and let it rest briefly before slicing it up to serve. With a little arugula salad and that stunning rose, this meal was just what the doctor ordered.

I’m wading back in here, slowly, still trying to get my groove back as far as posting goes. I’ll be honest, the last couple of weeks have been difficult, made worse by the issue of a content thief who has yet to respond to me, and at times I seriously thought of just giving this blog up entirely. My extended weekend did me a world of good (who knew hanging out with cows could be such fun), and after a few highly successful meals at home (at least one of which is getting a do-over and its own post soon), I’m feeling a bit better about it all.

What I cobbled together last night was just the sort of thing I love eating this time of year, a big salad with lots of varying colors and textures, and it gave me the chance to test out the 90-minute no-soak bean cooking method so many people are talking about.

While my beans cooked I whisked up a lemon vinaigrette with lots of chopped shallot, opened up a can of our favorite American Tuna and broke the fish up into the dressing, and got the remaining salad ingredients prepped: young arugula from Arcadian Fields, a few mixed radishes that had been lingering in the crisper, and beautiful bronze fennel from City Farm.

After 90 minutes, the beans were as tender and creamy as promised, and after letting them cool just briefly, I tossed them into the salad. This may not have been the prettiest plate in town, but the combination of flavors and textures was exactly what I had hoped for.