This recipe is based loosely on the fantastic Pho soups that I have enjoyed for years at Pho Pasteur in Allston, MA. I'm usually a very modest man, but this version of the classic pho soup just happens to be one of the best soups I've ever had. It has amazing healing and restorative qualities.
Serves 4-6.
On a humid summer night weeknight, there is nothing better than a fresh tomato and a glass of white wine.
Actually, wait. There is something better.
Tonight, I bought some nice beefsteak tomatoes from the supermarket and stuffed them with with as many things summer as I could pack into them. I served them uncooked with a salad for dinner, paired with a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand.
I have now made this tart 6 times. It is possible to get wrong (more is not always more when it comes to chocolate), but it is also possible to get sublimely right. The recipe is incredibly simple. Perhaps the best testimony is that a dessert-disdainer had two helpings...
Those who eat it immediately demand the recipe. Though I am loathe to reveal my secrets, here it is, courtesy of Gourmet Magazine.
When I was a kid, my mother used to make traditional New England-style baked scallops, covered in butter and breadcrumbs, and I clearly remember loving the breadcrumbs and hating the scallops. I used to try to scoop as much breadcrumbs as I possibly could into my plate, hoping that mom wouldn't notice that within that mound of buttery breadcrumb goodness hid only one or two of the fishy, dried out mollusks, that I would quickly gulp -- no chewing -- and wash down with a heady dose of Coca Cola.
Tastes change, however, and as a 31-year old I love scallops. I eat them seared, baked, pureed into a sauce, and -- perhaps the most exquisite expression of scallops -- wrapped in bacon. Because in New England fresh day-boat scallops are relatively easy to come by, they have made a regular appearance on the menu at Chez Vinilicious.