Curried Broccoli Chicken Casserole

I’m sure you’ve all had some version of a chicken and broccoli casserole in your day. Usually it’s a tad ho-hum, isn’t it? Comfort food though, I’d venture to say in its defense. Well, today’s recipe – a spin on this homemaker’s favorite weeknight go-to meal – is anything but ho-hum, thanks to an infusion of warm Moroccan flavors.
Awhile ago, one of my roommates made this casserole, sharing with me that it was a long-standing treat in her house growing up. I could certainly see why just from the aroma alone that flooded the house as it baked. I had a few nibbles of it and asked for the recipe, but alas never did get the specifics in the end. The flavors stuck in my mind though. Hints of curry, lemon, thyme and lots of broccoli goodness!
I had one of those moments the other night where I stood with a glazed-over stare, holding the freezer door open in a horrifyingly energy inefficient way, wondering what the heck to have for dinner. There were some vegetarian chicken strips in there which are definitely a staple in our house’s dinners, but I didn’t want to do the same ol’ thing, ya know?
Then I shook my head, closed the freezer door, and opened the fridge door, prepared to impart upon it the same zombie stare. I was jolted out of my haze when I saw the heads of fresh broccoli I’d just picked from my garden and remembered this delicious Curried Broccoli Chicken Casserole.
6 comments July 4, 2009
June Salad with Buttermilk Dressing

It’s about time for some health food around here. The past several posts have all be scrumptious sugary goodness…and now my teeth are starting to hurt just a little bit and the thighs have really taken advantage of the “situation”. Good thing I’m working up a serious sweat every day in my gardening gig. My garden is growing gold these days. I’m harvesting beets, carrots, lettuce, all sorts of herbs, broccoli, swiss chard, and young mustard greens. But my two favorites have to be the kohlrabi and sugar snap peas.

I had a friend recently tell me he’d never even seen a kohlrabi before, let alone eaten it. Of course I made him try it offered him one to eat as soon as they came into season (about a month ago). But before he would take a bite, he wanted to know what it tasted like. I always have such a tough time with that question. Kohlrabi tastes like…um, well, sorta like broccoli. Yep. And sorta like a mild radish. Okay. And maybe even a little like an apple. What?? Well, that’s just my take on it anyway. It’s definitely very crunchy and when it’s peeled, it looks like the white crisp flesh of an apple. There is a mild sweetness to mine, but I’ve had other people tell me that’s not always the case with kohlrabi. Another friend who overheard me trying to describe this to my kohlrabi-virgin friend declared it was just like eating a giant broccoli stem. Hmmm, perhaps, though I like to give this alien-looking vegetable more credit than that.

I do believe my friend liked the kohlrabi, by the way. And I know for sure he and everyone else who’s visited my garden as of late loved these sugar snap peas. I can only tell you that if you’ve never had a sugar snap pea plucked straight off the vine and popped directly into your mouth, pod and all, then you’ve been denied one of life’s most delicious experiences. Don’t even kid yourself if you are thinking right now, “Well, maybe I haven’t been there to pick them myself, but I’ve surely had the same great taste from the fresh peas I buy at the farmers market”. Peas are the one vegetable everyone should try to grow themselves as they are never quite as good as they are those few precious minutes after they’ve been picked. Really, mine rarely make it into the kitchen as I inevitably eat them standing before the vine, dirt in the crack of my hands to boot, about mid-way through my evening of gardening when my tummy reminds me I never made it into the house to have some dinner. Obviously I made an exception to make this salad. Talk about practicing self-control!
4 comments June 30, 2009
Strawberry Vanilla Ice Cream

Time for a change of pace, my friendly readers. We’re still in the midst of the Rhubarb Fest in the SFTF kitchen, but I seem to have misplaced the cord I need to download the latest pictures from my camera (eek!) so we’ll dive into the drafts I was holding onto until after the pink-tinged wave of recipes had subsided. Don’t worry. We aren’t going to stray far from the theme of seasonal sweet treats using red-hued local produce. Indeed, Strawberry Vanilla Ice Cream is a perfect companion for just about any rhubarb concoction.

I can think of very few things that are more delicious than the combination of juicy just-picked strawberries and cold rich cream. There’s something just downright luscious about it. Every year when strawberry season rolls around again, I hunt down a pick-your-own place and go a little crazy. It’s typically proven to be a rather expensive splurge, but it’s worth it. This year I planted dozens of alpine strawberry plants (Fragaria vesca ‘Semperflorens’) in my garden and in containers around my deck. They haven’t yet produced any fruit this year, though they do have plenty of flowers and buds presently. The glory of the smaller and sweeter alpine strawberry is that it fruits all summer long, not just in June like the more robust and common commercial strawberry (Fragaria x ananassa).

While I await the arrival of my first baby berry, I was happy to chunk up these local strawberries from the farmers market, freezing them with some thick and frothy raw cow’s milk that I brought back with me from my family’s dairy farm. I know that you all probably think of supporting your local farmers all the time by buying your vegetables and fruit from them. I would encourage you (even nearly beg you) to not forget to do the same with dairy farmers who are selling milk and cheese and even occasionally ice cream. Right now the small-to-mid-size family-run dairy farms of our nation are suffering horribly from a crippling price slump in the milk market. My brother, who is trying very hard to keep the farm that’s been in our family for five generations operating, tells me just the basic daily operations of farming are causing him to pretty much hemorrhage money. The only apparent salvation is to sell our farm’s milk (and maybe cheese too) to the public directly and hope that they are willing to buy from us instead of the supermarket. So, please, remember your local dairy farmers too when you’re making your purchases.
13 comments June 9, 2009


















