Some of the recipes in this book include raw eggs. When eggs are consumed raw, there is always the risk that bacteria, which is killed by proper cooking, may be present. For this reason, always buy certified salmonella-free eggs from a reliable grocer, storing them in the refrigerator until they are served. Because of the health risks associated with the consumption of bacteria that can be present in raw eggs, they should not be consumed by infants, small children, pregnant women, the elderly, or any persons who may be immunocompromised. The author and publisher expressly disclaim responsibility for any adverse effects that may result from the use or application of the recipes and information contained in this book.
Copyright 2015 by Tara OBrady
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ten Speed Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House LLC, a Penguin Random House Company, New York.
www.crownpublishing.com
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Ten Speed Press and the Ten Speed Press colophon are registered trademarks of Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
OBrady, Tara.
Seven spoons : my favorite recipes for any and every day / Tara OBrady.First edition.
pages cm
Includes bibliographical references and index.
1. Cooking. 2. Cooking, Canadian. I. Title.
TX714.O265 2015
641.5971dc23
eBook ISBN: 978-1-60774-638-6
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-60774-637-9
v3.1
Roasted Carrots with Harissa Aoli and Dukkah. Plum Macaroon Cake. Chaat Tostadas. Roasted Peaches with Glazed Sesame Oats. Few food writers have such an insightful, intuitive understanding of flavoror a more eclectic and inspiring range of culinary influences at work in their kitchenthan Tara OBrady. Fewer still write with her trademark warmth and thoughtful prose, which Saveur describes as like pulling up a seat at the table of an old friend.
Seven Spoons is OBradys remarkable and much-anticipated debut. In it, she shares more than one hundred of her best and most mouthwatering recipescrowd-pleasing breakfasts like Blackberry Buttermilk Whole Grain Scones, weeknight staples like Everyday Yellow Dal, and terrifically inventive desserts like Roasted Grapes with Sweet Labneh. These elegant, flavorful, and wonderfully creative recipes, plus the show stopping photography, will have you heading straight for the kitchen to get cooking.
Tara OBrady is a ship captains daughter of Indian descent living in Ontario, Canada. All of which informs her perspective in this beautiful and substantial debut cookbook. She navigates seamlessly across culinary boundaries to share her stories, recipes, and traditionsthe sort, I suspect, that will be welcomed into many, many kitchens.
HEIDI SWANSON , author of Super Natural Every Day
This book, just like Taras blog, shares recipes and stories that are filled with texture, warmth, and her Indian heritage. Taras cooking is thoughtful, clean, and full of aroma and flavor. Her recipe for Baked Eggs, North IndianStyle, served with an extraordinary topping of Fresh Green Chutney, has become a staple for my familyand it will for yours, too.
ARAN GOYOAGA , author of Small Plates and Sweet Treats
Seven Spoons is so gorgeous and beautifully photographed that I just want to jump right into the pages. I cant wait to savor these amazing dishes, all with a global bent, starting with breakfast biscuits and spicy, fried Mexican Huevos a la Plaza de Mercado; then moving on to soups and salads with flavors culled from the Middle East and East Asia; then ending with lush, compelling desserts.
DAVID LEBOVITZ , author of My Paris Kitchen
Taras warmth and love of cooking comes through on every page. She will inspire new cooks to enter the kitchen, and energize those of us who have been cooking for years.
BONNIE STERN , author of Friday Night Dinners
CHAPTER 1:
Breads & Breakfasts
CHAPTER 2:
Lunches
CHAPTER 3:
Soups, Starters & Snacks
CHAPTER 4:
Suppers
CHAPTER 5:
Vegetables & Sides
CHAPTER 6:
Sweets, Treats & Sips
CHAPTER 7:
Staples
Introduction
A PRACTICE OF COOKING
My first home with Sean, the man who would later become my husband, was a light-bathed, third-floor walkup just off the main drag of a decent-sized city in southern Ontariothe city where he was born, but a place Id only visited. The apartment had a postage stamp for an entry, a sliver of a kitchen, a large living room, two bedrooms, one bath, and a balcony that ran the length of the place. Tall windows lined that same side, windows wider than my arms could stretch, with sills deep enough for a row of succulents to sit in matched white pots. My favorite seat in the house was at the end of a couch closest to those windows, through which a massive maple tree would stain the sunlight turmeric come autumn. I miss those windows.
From that apartment, we could walk to the grocery store, to the lakeshore, and to the coffee shop, and Sean could walk to work. It was a good neighborhood.
Our preferred pub was a block away, a smallish place that was decidedly British in its leanings. The room was perpetually dim. The deep banquettes were burgundy velvet with button-tufted backs, and the tables were glossy wood atop heavy iron bases. The walls were crammed, frame to mismatched frame, with horse racing, football, and royal memorabilia. It was the kind of place where on your second visit, the staff would remember you from your first. Besides fish and chips, bangers and mash, and a decent chicken tikka, that pub made the best burger around. It came charred on the outside and juicy at its middle, garnished with thick-cut bacon, cheddar, iceberg lettuce, and a generous slice of beefsteak tomato. Pickles were served on the side. I miss those burgers, too.
Choosing that apartment was probably one of the easiest, and smartest, decisions Ive ever made. Aside from choosing the person I shared it with, of course. That apartment was where everything began.
For the first time in my life I felt like I was making a home rather than playing at it. In the domestic division of duties, I took over our kitchen. I was comfortable in the tiny galley space and found a specific sense of fulfillment in being in charge of it.
The trouble was, after furnishing it with pots and pans and crisp tea towels, I had no idea what to do in that room. I had no idea what to cook.