Single Serving

Sometimes, when I walk into our apartment building, I can smell someone else’s broccoli cooking. This does not bode well for my own appetite. Broccoli, let’s not forget, is cruciferous, and cooking the vegetable can evoke cabbage in the least flattering way. But the scent of other people’s broccoli-as well as other people’s delicious, delicious bacon-is the price of crowded city living, the indignity we suffer to dwell on a cute corner in a beloved neighborhood in everyone’s favorite borough.

Ever since I read this no-nonsense tip from Reading My Tea Leaves, I’ve worried less about preventing pervasive food scents, for my neighbors or myself. (Alex does have a system of opening windows and plugging in fans for when I’m going to get the kitchen really smoky.) Cook something a little stinky, then cook something wonderful. Caramelize onions (I despise their after-smell), then bake a batch of granola (the finest way to make an apartment smell like home).

The preparation for this pasta starts with roasting broccoli. It’s not that strong a smell-I don’t want to turn you off. But then right after you take the broccoli out of the oven, you brown butter on the stove. And I always want the scent of brown butter, nutty and rich, to linger. Mixed together with spaghetti, these few fragrant ingredients become a rich, homey weeknight dinner that leaves the place smelling great.

Continuing on in my journey to celebrate four years of blogging by posting fantastic old Big Girls, Small Kitchen recipes that have less-than-awesome photos, we come to this incredibly easy, immensely satisfying Sweet and Sour Tofu, formerly known simply as New Favorite Tofu. Yes, along with an understanding of light and dSLR lenses, I have become acquainted with search engine optimization and the art of choosing at least mildly descriptive names for the food I cook.

Am I allowed to call myself adorable? Because if so, then I’d like to admit that the post that originally accompanied this recipe is really cute. In my introduction to New Favorite Tofu, I detail the email exchanges between my friend Marc’s Aunt Sara and me. Sara sent me this recipe with notes of praise so actionable that I made the tofu within a few days of getting her email. I couldn’t believe how good the tofu was, but I was also awed at the power of the internet to connect two people who liked to cook vegetarian food and let them share good recipes.

“I know this is going to make me sound like a naive 86 year-old,” I wrote, “but I think the Internet is really amazing.”

It is, isn’t it?

But the internet runs at high speed, and in the whirl of creating and posting new recipes, I haven’t returned to this sweet-and-sour tofu as often as I’ve craved it-just like the Creamy Squash Rigatoni I posted on Monday.

In honor of this blog’s four-year anniversary week, I decided I’d highlight some favorite recipes from the archives. You see, when we first got the blog going, we knew nothing about food photography. As a result, there are these total gems from the past that just sit there getting dusty in the archives, all because their lead photos aren’t up to to snuff anymore, now that the internet food world is so, well, sophisticated. Now that yellow-y glop doesn’t pass muster on a Pinterest board.

If you’ve hung around here a while, you might know BGSK’s creation myth. A burst of inspiration following Thanksgiving led to this, our first post, about a party Phoebe and I had thrown for our best friend, Jordana. A lot has changed since then, not least the internet’s aesthetic. I hadn’t met Alex, let alone married him, I was a vegetarian, and I’d lived in Brooklyn for all of a month. And I was very fond of sautéing lots of garlic in butter, and then turning that fragrant base into a pasta sauce.

This warm, nourishing bowl of squash and pasta was first published in October 2009, a year into our blogging adventure. I’m not sure I’ve made the dish since then, but I’ve craved it often. It’s formerly known as Inside-Out Ravioli Pasta (a mouthful!), which I even hesitate to link to, because man did I have some lighting and framing issues back then. I apparently had blog formatting issues too. Still, the recipe is a gem.

Damn, could I fashion a delicata squash, a handful of tube pasta, and some milk into a delightful pasta dish in just over half an hour! That I could do then! Now, I followed my old recipe almost exactly to the letter, adding in a couple clarifying directions but that’s it.

I always want to have it all. I have since I was little.

When dessert carts rolled around at those restaurants that had dessert carts, I would try to grab the mousse cake and the apple pie and the flan.

If a dinner party host offers me cake or pie, I ask for a little of each. “Ice cream on your pie?” Yes, please.

All of it.

There are moments in life when this outlook doesn’t get me very far. Having a little bit of everything means not having all of something else. You know, hedging. I’m the queen of hedging. That’s probably why I love dessert. With dessert, there aren’t really opportunity costs. What do I have to lose? A little stomach space, maybe some dignity. No big deal. In life, there are some.

When I go to the farmers’ market, I have a trick that I use to save money. I purposely don’t go to the ATM the day before. Then I take the $20 or $30 dollars left in my wallet (or, er, borrowed from Alex’s) and put the bills in my back pocket. I grab my tote, I grab my keys. I put on my sunglasses. Then I walk to Grand Army Plaza, where I spend my loot on farm fresh eggs, Ronnybrook low-fat milk, and fruits and vegetables.

I’m not against spending my dough at the market. I just know that if I go with more money, I’ll spend more money. And that money will translate into local vegetables rotting in my fridge.

My $20 trick means I have choices. Giving choices to someone who tends to hedge on Saturday morning, before coffee, is not the best idea.

Across the country, 16-year-olds sprint to the DMV for their learners’ permits. In New York City, we meander there, by subway, public bus, and yellow taxi. At least a few of my friends didn’t see a reason to get learners’ permits til they were 25.

I sprinted to get mine. Though I’m from New York City, I didn’t grow up in Manhattan. I lived in a neighborhood where you needed a car - or at least that’s how it felt at 16. As soon as I was equipped with my license, my friends were thrilled, and we planned adventures.

Here’s what we did with our wheels: we traversed two whole miles to get to a cafe where we ordered cappuccinos and cookies. We drove to the nearby deli where we’d been walking to get lunch ever since freshman year, when we first got off-campus privileges.

The deli looks like a deli, but the sandwiches are superheroes (ha). Really, they’re named after superheroes: Superman, Catwoman, and Batman. Jordana and I always got the Batman - smoked turkey, pepper jack cheese, honey mustard, and sliced apple - hold the turkey. Soon, on our drives there, we started tweaking poor Batman, subbing in brie (her) or Swiss (me) for the jack.

The nutty cheese, crunchy apple, and spicy-sweet honey mustard were irresistible, as appealing as the mile drive back to school, windows down, music up.

This simple sandwich has followed me for so long - from my first months as a licensed driver to my college days (it was easy to recreate in the dining hall) to today - that it was the obvious choice when Panera asked me to help spread the word about a sandwich contest it’s hosting. The details for the Panera Bread Sandwich Showdown are here. Basically, you play around with the virtual sandwich-maker app (really fun!) and submit a story about the legendary sandwich you’ve created for a chance to win money ($10,000! $500 Panera gift cards!) and glory (the winning sandwich will be on Panera’s menu for a year!). If you want to share the contest with friends, the hashtag for twitter and pinterest is #SandwichShowdown. Go make a sandwich before the contest ends on Oct. 6!

My update to the Batman turns it from an ordinary (super)hero to an autumnal cousin of the BLT. Apple replaces the tomato, slices of Swiss stand in for the lettuce, and honey mustard moistens the bread instead of mayo. I decided to throw on some apple chips for extra crunch, but they’re optional. The end result is a sandwich I’m thrilled to find in my lunchbox, a sandwich I’d drive even more than a mile for.

I wrote this sponsored post in partnership with Panera, in order to spread the word about Panera Bread’s Sandwich Showdown contest. Thanks, Panera! I occasionally post sponsored posts on the blog - read my affiliate disclosure here if you’d like to know more about how it works.

ENVIABLE BROWN BAG LUNCHES: Caesar Wrap with Tofu and Broccoli; Grilled Ratatouille; Teriyaki Soba Salad; Fried Chicken Salad with Black-Eyed Peas and Buttermilk Dressing

Hope Memorial Day was relaxing, warm, beachy-or whatever you wanted your three-day weekend to be. I hung out at the beach with my family, Alex, and Finn and a new game of ladder ball. With the exception of the ride out on the LIRR, where I was packed between my bike and about a million other commuters, it was perfect.

(Ladder Ball!)

For lunch on the train, I packed a homemade Caesar salad-I can’t stop eating homemade Caesar since I made these-I tossed butter lettuce with the creamy dressing, Parm, celery, and some croutons. Hungry, I was shoveling it in when I noticed that the two women sitting diagonally across from me were pulling their lunch out of one of those Thermos bags.

Homemade fried chicken.

My favorite food in the world. I got serious food envy. And I got a little mad: my Caesar salad had seemed perfect, moments before. On twitter, @EatinistBitch advised that I “liberate a piece of their fried chicken and add it to your caesar salad.”

Dear readers:

I’m writing to let you know that Phoebe will be leaving Big Girls, Small Kitchen this week, to pursue other paths.

I’m sorry to lose a partner, and I know we’ll all miss her richly described travelogues and genius gluten-free recipes gracing the pages of BGSK. She’ll be here tomorrow to wish all of you a fond farewell.

And-don’t worry! This site will live vibrantly on under my quarter-life care. Stay tuned for great new features, starting with an open-faced egg sandwich I know you need to add to your comfort food repertoire.