Speedy Fire-Roasted Tomato Cod

One of the perils of writing a blog that I am prone to is this: I get so caught up with brain-storming innovative ideas, new-found flavors, and remarkable ingredients that I more often than not forget to post the obvious. Namely, what I've made for dinner.

A glance at my cookbooks and a good percentage of my posts might lead some to believe that I subsist on cookies, puddings and cereal. While they all have a prominent part in my life and diet, I do, in fact, eat dinner. Every night. My husband and son are involved in the ritual, and it's one we all seem to enjoy. And it's for that very reason that I often fail to take notice--much less photographs--of the event.

But last night I stared down at my plate and decided enough was enough. Before me was a gorgeous tableau: lush red tomatoes cooked to jam-like consistency, delicate thyme leaves, and the stark white contrast of a flaky cod fillet. Making it was almost as easy as drawing a bath, and I knew before completing any calculations that it was stock full of healthy, good things to eat.

I put down my fork and picked up my camera. Here's to the obvious!

Fire-Roasted Tomato & Thyme Cod
The Muir Glen brand of fire-roasted tomatoes adds smoky deliciousness to this quick and easy dish, but you can certainly use regular diced tomatoes in their place (you could add a hint of smokiness with a dash of smoked paprika or chipotle chile powder).

I used frozen fish fillets here; they are so convenient. While I prefer my fresh fish with minimal flavorings (e.g., a drizzle of olive oil, a spritz of lemon juice), I've found that frozen fish fares better in preparations such as this (i.e., simmered in a sauce), where it can absorb plenty of flavor.

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1 15-ounce can fire-roasted diced tomatoes (undrained)
1 teaspoon brown sugar
A few sprigs fresh thyme (or 3/4 teaspoon dried thyme leaves)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
4 fresh or frozen (thawed) cod fillets (about 6 ounces each)

Heat the oil in a large skillet, add the onion; cook & stir 5-8 minutes until lightly browned. Stir in the tomatoes and their juice, sugar, thyme and soy sauce. Bring to a boil.

Simmer 5 minutes, then slip the cod into the sauce. Cover and gently cook for 8-10 minutes until the cod flakes easily. Makes 4 servings. (all you need on the side is some crusty bread, rice, or couscous).

Nutrition per serving (1 piece fish, 1/4 of sauce):
Calories 172; Fat 4g (poly 2.og, mono 0.8g, sat 1.0g); Protein 27g; Cholesterol 11mg; Carbohydrate 7g; Sodium 240mg; Fiber 1g)
(Note: I did the nutrition analysis using Diet Analysis Plus 7.0.1)

Spicy Roasted Chickpeas, 2 Decades in Waiting

Today, I ate roasted chickpeas. It's something I've waited two decades to try.

I have known about roasted chickpeas since I was seven years old. I was obsessed with the All of a Kind Family series of books by Sydney Taylor and Helen John; they are the Jewish, New York City-based, early 20th century equivalent of the Laura Ingalls Wilder books. I couldn't get enough, and re-read each volume several times over.

All of the five daughters' adventures--laundry days, visits to the NYC public library, swimming at Coney Island-- mesmerized me, but it was the vivid descriptions of the food, including the rituals for making, serving, celebrating, and eating it, that hooked me. I was dazzled by sizzling latkes, cinnamon babkes, chicken soup with matzoh dumplings (made with the chicken mama plucked herself), and animal crackers, gingersnaps, and lemon drops in waxed bags from the neighborhood 5 & dime. I was ready for Passover, Hanukkah, and a move to New York.

One of the nibbles that piqued my interest in particular was roasted chickpeas. In the first volume of the series, the girls are granted a special treat: a visit to the food markets for the weekly shopping. Along the way, the youngest daughter clamors for one of her favorite treats, sold by a street monger: roasted, salted chickpeas, scooped warm into a paper cone. She shares some with her sisters, and they swoon over the tender-crunchy, nutty-salty flavor.

But what on earth are chickpeas, I wondered? I asked my mother.

"It's another word for garbanzo beans," she informed me.

Oh. Hmm. I knew garbanzo beans. They were a regular feature in soups and salads at our house. I liked them as much as I liked any bean, but there was the rub: they were just beans. Why would anyone agitate for a cone full of beans?

Two decades later, I have the answer. I stumbled across a basic recipe for roasted chickpeas in the midst of cleaning out my cookbook collection a few weeks ago. Chickpeas, olive oil, salt, a brief spell in a hot oven...it sounded deceptively simple. But what the heck, it would be an inexpensive experiment.

Oh. My. Goodness. Crunchy, hearty, healthy, and cheap to boot. The All of Kind Family clamor was clarified in the first nibble. I have found a new life-long snack. Do give them a try. I'm off to work on paper cone construction for my next batch.

Spicy Roasted Chickpeas

After making a few batches, I want to stress how important it is to pat dry the chickpeas after draining and rinsing them; the goal is to get a good crunch to the chickpeas, and they will not achieve it if they are damp.

1 15-ounce can chickpeas
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon fine-grain sea salt
1/2 teaspoon spice of your choice (I am keen on curry powder, chipotle chile powder or garam masala)

Preheat the oven to 375F.

Drain and rinse the chickpeas. Transfer to a large dry dish towel and pat dry.

In a medium bowl toss the chickpeas with the olive oil, salt and spices of your choice. Toss to coat, then spread in a single layer on a rimmed baking sheet.

Roast for 34-38 minutes, checking them frequently in the last 10 minutes (you want them crunchy, not burnt :)). Makes about 1 and 1/2 cups.