|Trader Joe's Dinner: Food Lazy|
|October 9, 2006|
I like to pretend I'm not lazy. I really, really do. I mean, I multi-task, I multi-write, I yoga, I run, I walk. I vacuum once a day, I work late, and I wash my dishes right after eating. But the thing is...I'm lazy. I work so hard in order to not feel lazy except, that, well, I'm just so busy editing or writing about food in various places that I'm getting food lazy in my own kitchen.
I shouldn't be ashamed of that, right? I mean, I know how to cook. I can make consommé if I really wanted to. I could stock my freezer with puff pastry, full-bodied stocks, pesto reserves, and decorative ice cubes. Well, actually, I probably couldn't because my freezer is SO FREAKING SMALL but, the point is, I know how to do all that stuff. I just...don't do it.
I read what new and amazing things my fellow bloggers are making and I get envious. And then I get tired. And then I go to Trader Joe's -- the balm to my lazy food soul.
Today, I picked up some pre-cooked, pre-de-podded, pre-scary skins removed edamame. Pale green, shiny, and packed with all manner of goodly nutrients, these things are amazing. I whisked up a little mustard-lemon vinaigrette, threw in some smashed raw garlic and freshly-grated Parmigiano-Regiano, and gave the edamame a vigorous dip in this tangy bath. It's my answer to salad in this world where E. coli stalks the green ruffled land like two giant stalking things, and it's damn good.
Basic Edamame Salad
1 package Trader Joe's cooked and cleaned edamame (9 oz)
1 tablespoon Champagne vinegar
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
Juice from one lemon
Salt to taste
Pepper to taste
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 minced garlic cloves
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano
Maldon sea salt
In a small bowl, add the vinegar, mustard, lemon juice, salt, and pepper. Whisk in the olive oil, minced garlic, and Parmigiano-Reggiano. Toss the edamame in the vinaigrette and serve with pinches of Maldon sea salt.
Oh, and Amy, while I was in the checkout line a Trader Joe was handing out those abominably addictive Chocolate Caramel Tartlet thingies. They're still happily stocking 'em.