Arugula Pesto Focaccia with Artichokes, Feta, Goat Cheese and Green Olives (Pizza Night!)

Foh-KAH-chee-ah.  Foke-ah-CHEE-ah.  No matter how my spouse chooses to pronounce it, you need to try this.  Now. It's that good.  And if you've got arugula going to town in the garden?  More better.

I'd noticed that every time I was out of town on a Friday night (for sled hockey tournaments) my spouse would order a focaccia pizza.  The leftovers I'd have after my return were pretty tasty, so I was eager to try it out myself.  I consulted my personal pizza resource, The Best Pizza Is Made at Home , for inspiration on the crust as well as baking directions.  I had some arugula pesto, made using the recipe out of Farmer John's Cookbook: The Real Dirt on Vegetables, so I decided to try that.  If you don't have asiago cheese, try Bryn's easy arugula pesto recipe instead, or the arugula pesto of your choice.
I was comfortable jumping into a flavored dough but needed to try the method on a barely-topped bread first, just to make sure I set myself up for success.  The last spectacular pizza failure, seen on my Facebook page, of my deep dish spinach pie on eggnog crust is still too fresh in my mind.  Such a great idea in theory, so bad in execution . . . ah well.  That's why I call it recipe development.  If at first you don't succeed . . .

Making focaccia this way calls for a 12 inch round deep dish pizza pan.  I don't have one.  Since I never know what size kitchen we'll be living in at our next house, I try not to collect single-purpose items (hello, asparagus steamer, I'm talking 'bout you!).  I do have a 12 inch cast iron skillet though.  That's what I used for this focaccia, and I recommend using one if you also have one.  The resulting bread was thicker than my usual pizza crust, crisp on the bottom like my cornbread, delightfully chewy on the inside, and topped with a flavorful combination suggested by my spouse from items we had on hand in the fridge/freezer.  The toppings added to the flavor of the base, but didn't overpower it.  I've said in my Pizza Primer that less is more, and it sure is true here.  You really don't want to glop on heavy toppings or sauces here.  At least, not the first time you make it.

Who knows what I'll do next time, though clever blog readers may think I've already done it with this Salmon, Goat Cheese, and Arugula Pesto pizza--though that is baked and topped differently, and even a bit different ratio of flours for the dough.  All good, though, and yes you are quite bright!

Chicken Salad By The Ounce

I love roasting a chicken.  I get multiple meals from a single cooking session, and I can toss the chicken carcass in a bag in the freezer next to my Soup Packs if it's not a good time to make stock.  I had some leftover chicken meat after these Mu Shu Chicken Burritos, and a chicken salad sounded like a nice lunch for my daughter.  Me,  too!

The pigs have heard the peeler, and are ready for a snack.

Before my girl was due home for lunch, I was playing around in the kitchen and had my scale out.  I knew I wanted a carrot in the salad, so after I peeled the carrot (peels, top and tip to the composting pigs who start wheeking when they hear the sound of the peeler) I tossed it on the scale for grins and giggles.  It was exactly one ounce.  I grabbed the red onion and sliced off what I thought would be a good amount.  It too was exactly one ounce.

At this point, I resisted the temptation to get on the scale and see if I, too, weighed exactly one ounce.  Best not to press my luck?

You know I had to measure out exactly one ounce of celery.  Ditto the sunflower seeds.  The chicken? Eight ounces.  Since I had it out already, I figured I'd chop everything with the food processor.  I'd previously chopped dates for these muffins, and I estimate there was about one tablespoon of chopped dates left in the bowl.  I ate this over chopped romaine with a drizzle of balsamic vinaigrette, and my daughter turned hers into a sandwich.  I'm just glad I grabbed the camera and got one photo before we dug in!

This chicken salad has plenty of crunch from the carrots, celery, and sunflower seeds, plus a hint of sweetness from the dates.  It's delicious as lunch, on a cracker or pita round for snack, or even for a warm weather supper. I like all sorts of chicken salads, and I'm happy to add this version to my repertoire.

Creamy Dark Chocolate and Banana Muffins (and they're Whole Grain!) (Monday Muffins)

My spouse took this photo.  I think it rocks.  He does, too.

I have a confession to make:  I don't get bananas in my farm share here in Ohio.  I know I started this blog to share how I use seasonal produce--usually from our CSA farm share--to feed the family year 'round.  Sometimes, however, I get good deals on produce that is not part of any farm share I've ever known.  Like 49 cent pints of blueberries in July.  Or speckled bananas for 27 cents a pound.  Because I'm feeding my family from this seasonal abundance, I like to blog about it, too.

There, I'm glad I got that off my chest.  My CSA farm share will be starting up next week, so I'll be sharing more and more farm share recipes in the coming months.  But this is too good not to share.

I think bananas are one of nature's perfect foods.  We planted a banana tree behind our home in Hawaii, and it grew fast and furious despite neglected soil.  Then it flowered a gigantic flower and soon baby bananas appeared.  We never ate any bananas from that tree--apparently someone else was watching the growth and development of our banana bunches as well, because once they got about big enough to harvest, the stem would disappear without a trace.  I guess someone else needed them more than we did.  Just like the local fauna appear to need the blueberries and peaches and strawberries in our backyard here . . . though we managed to snag 13 raspberries last year.

I love that bananas don't fully ripen until after you cut them off the tree.  Not like all the basil threatening to go to seed when you're not ready to make pesto, or the zucchini growing from 4 inches to 18 inches when you turned your back to weed the tomato bed.  When I get a good deal on speckled bananas, I save some on the counter for immediate use and freeze the rest.

And just how easy is it to freeze a banana?  Carefully pick it up by the stem, open your freezer, and set it inside.  Then carefully close the freezer--you're done!  Sure, the skin turns dark brown on a frozen banana, but that same skin did a rockin' awesome job protecting the fruit inside while it was on the tree and that protection continues in your freezer.  I usually set a frozen banana on the counter for 15-20 minutes before easily scraping off the peel with a paring knife.  Forgetting about the banana for an hour means you can just cut off one tip and squish the banana into whatever you're preparing.  Yum, that's a lovely image.

Now that you've snagged bananas when they are perfectly good for baking and cheaper, and stored them properly until you're ready to use them, let's make a muffin.  This recipe is a variation of my favorite soaked oatmeal muffin.  It's best to start it the night before, but letting the oats and buttermilk soak for just an hour is nearly as good.  See NOTE below.