Dinner: Impossible?

About author / Amy Powell

World traveler; gourmet 30 minute meals; lover of exotic ingredients; winner on FoodTV's Chefs vs City; graduate French Culinary Institute. Her recipes will tantalize your taste buds.

A few days ago I found myself the unwitting participant in what appeared to be a really bad episode of Top Chef or some other food television contest show. There may have been no cameras filming my furrowed brow as I wrestled with what to cook for dinner that night, but, if there had been, the close up shot might have caught the glistening of sweat on my face as panic set in. Somehow I had found myself mere hours from dinner time, cooking for a group with the most disparate lists of food aversions and no idea how to, how do they say in reality TV land? Ah yes… make it work.

Let me set the stage. My aunt had made the wise decision to take a few days of Spring Break to escape her home in Boise for the lovely Southern California sunshine. I had been travelling for work for several days and would just be catching her on the last night of her vacation. After days of eating out in restaurants I was eager to cook for a change and my aunt was willing to lend me her friend’s kitchen, complete with Viking range, in order to make that happen.

This plan was working out wonderfully until I asked the fatal question: Aunt Whiz, would you mind asking your friends what they don’t eat? As for me, a true omnivore, my food dislikes (potatoes, unagi, over-cooked zucchini) are simple enough to deal with. Cooking around entire categories of a person’s “Don’t Eat” list can be a lot more difficult.

In this case, it turned out that two of our dinner guest would be Jewish and thus did not eat shellfish or pork. One of these Jewish guests, for reasons other than his faith, also did not eat red meat. A friend of mine who would be dining with us, for reasons of personal preference, does not eat chicken. And to complicate matters further, this was the week of Passover, the Jewish holiday commemorating the flight from Egypt during which strictly observant Jews do not eat leavened bread, which rules out all forms of bread including pasta.

I’ve cooked for restricted-diet eaters before, but this, this was a challenge big enough that I needed help or I was calling the whole dinner off.

Consulting with some food savvy Jewish friends out of New York and Chicago we devised some possible options. It appeared that for protein all I was left to choose from were non-shellfish fish and turkey. I was reminded that in the Jewish tradition a fish is only a fish if it has fins and scales so I would need to rule swordfish out of the possible fish options. Rice is iffy in some cases and couscous was not Kosher, so for sides I could go with quinoa, something legume based, or any kind of vegetable.

In the end we all agreed salmon would be a fine option, the Chicago friend suggesting cooking it in parchment paper with citrus and herbs and served alongside seasonal vegetables. Pan-friend snapper was another suggestion of his, which he recommended pairing with a white bean puree, with optional drizzle of truffle oil.

Armed with these ideas, my panic subsided and I was confident enough to hit Whole Foods for a look at the fish counter. The halibut had clearly just arrived and looked fresh and glistening on its ice pack. In the produce department, the red chard appeared tender. I gathered cans of white beans, a couple of lemons, onion, garlic, and a bottle of white wine. Since pork was out, the usual cheese and salami appetizer spread was modified to include peppered smoked salmon and herbed brie. To avoid the leavened bread issues found in most desserts, I passed by the bakery section and went right to the freezer case for a light dessert of Blackberry-Cabernet sorbet from Ciao Bella.

In the end, my group of eaters noshed on the salmon and cheese eaten with russet potato and chive chips while I fired up the Viking Range. Onions and garlic were sautéed in olive oil while I washed and sliced red chard. The red chard wilted down a bit with the onions and garlic while one friend helped me drain and rinse the cans of cannellini beans. The beans then went into the pot along with white wine, salt, and pepper. Meanwhile, thick halibut fillets were seared in a pan then topped with lemon zest and an olive oil drizzle before finishing cooking in the oven. In the absence of bacon to give chard and beans a little je ne sais quoi, a drizzle of black truffle oil was just was the dish needed to give it that meaty taste without the meat.

There may not have been cameras following my cooking exploits that day, but my real life dinner challenge was just as difficult as any food television challenge I’ve watched over the years. I faced the challenge and survived that round. As the no-chicken eating, the pork-avoiding, and the omnivores happily devoured every last cannellini bean, I finally relaxed, confident that, with a little help from some friends and a bit of imagination, if you give me a group of picky eaters I can make it work.

Serves/Makes: 4

• 6 tablespoons olive oil, divided
• 1 medium onion
• 2 cloves garlic, peeled and minced
• 2 bunches red chard
• 2 cans (15 ounce size) cannellini beans
• 9 ounces white wine
• salt and pepper
• 1 tablespoon black truffle oil
• 4 halibut fillets (6-8 ounce size)
• 1 lemon