Cooking 101: How to avoid the ramen

Karen Egbert could just picture it. Her 19-year-old son, who will be a sophomore at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, moves into his first apartment, exhausts his cooking repertoire (scrambled eggs, grilled cheese, tiramisu) in the first week and begins a steady diet of deadly delivery food.

What's a mother to do? Egbert figured that her son, Noah Kraft, was a perfect candidate for a chef's help. Stephanie Ruth was thinking along the same lines and wrote to us about her college-age daughter.

A class was coming together in the D.C. home kitchen of chef Susan Holt. By the time the lesson took place, Ruth's older daughter had left town for the summer, but her 17 year old, Ali, a high school senior, was thrilled to take her place.

The two students have a lot in common. Both are athletic, fit and interested in science. Ali Ruth spent the summer studying watersheds with the Chesapeake Bay Trust; Kraft mentioned that he might major in molecular biology.

Holt put together what Ali Ruth described afterward as "a cooking lesson that focused on a set of very doable recipes with a whole lot of tips, history and science thrown into the mix."

The students eagerly scanned the curriculum, making sure the basic food groups were represented: Pasta? Check! Chocolate? Check! Cheese? Check! As in: linguine with shrimp and garlic; raspberries, ganache and shortbread in phyllo purses; and grilled fontina and prosciutto sandwiches.

They might not sound particularly healthful, but Holt dispelled that notion at the get-go. She is all about moderation, keeping good fats in the diet and not robbing Peter to pay Paul.

"I don't believe in scrimping by not eating something and then going overboard by eating a box of Snackwells," she insisted.

Besides, also on the list were tomato, cucumber and pepper salad; vegetable couscous; and two simple fish dishes.

She started off with the cucumber salad, which gave her the opportunity to talk about knives and how to use them correctly, the difference between dicing (uniform) and chopping (random), and how to deal with various vegetables.

"I suck at this," Kraft said as they worked on peppers. Ruth's pieces were sticking together.

Holt encouraged them gently, teaching them how to avoid "the accordion effect" that results when the knife doesn't cut all the way through a vegetable. "Use the entire blade," she said. "It's long for a reason."

As many chefs do, Holt maintained that the most crucial lesson she'd impart would be the importance of seasoning. To her, there was no debate over salt use, and she stated unequivocally that "salt is your friend."

So is sugar. Both condiments, Holt said, draw moisture out of anything they touch and can guard against bacterial growth, which is why they are often main ingredients in preserved foods.

There was so much information in Holt's brain, it was a wonder the motherboard didn't melt; with less-enthusiastic students, she'd have risked sounding pedantic. Kraft and Ruth easily kept up, even interjecting their own ideas about surface tension, the role of sodium in neuron function and protein denaturing.

Along the way, Holt touched on myriad subjects: how to turn garlic and salt into a puree with a knife; why the starch in refrigerated potatoes turns to sugar; when to stop cooking processes and let residual heat take over; why unsalted butter is better. She even elaborated on how to fill food storage containers with leftovers and how to ladle soup into bowls without making a mess.

In other words, the kind of information that, once upon a time, one generation would pass to another.

It took more than an hour to get through the cucumber salad, but then Holt hit her stride, guiding Kraft and Ruth through the preparation of ganache (hot cream whisked into chopped bittersweet chocolate), shrimp linguine and oven-toasted sandwiches oozing with fontina cheese.

Kraft claimed grilled cheese as one of his own specialties; his version, like Holt's, requires lavish amounts of butter. "That's the key!" Holt concurred.

She was unabashed in her use of butter throughout the day, rolling her eyes from time to time to begrudgingly concede, when asked, that olive oil could take its place in certain dishes in whole or in part.

But even butter didn't help much to mitigate the difficulties that past-their-prime sheets of phyllo dough presented as they stuck together stubbornly. Holt turned it into a lesson about dealing with a disaster.

"Don't fight it," she suggested. "Use what you can and throw the rest of it away."

But because her efforts had yielded only one usable purse, she came up with another idea, one probably more practical for college students than the original plan: "Don't even use the phyllo. Just take the shortbread, top it with ganache and raspberries, and garnish with ice cream."

The day ended on a lighter note. Holt showed Kraft and Ruth how to make an Indian-spiced vegetable couscous; oven-steam a fillet of ultra-fresh red drum in an aluminum foil packet with aromatic herbs, lemon juice and olive oil; and sear salmon fillets in a smoking cast-iron skillet.

She managed to sneak some butter into the salmon dish, whirling it into the pan with orange zest and basil as she quoted famed chef Pierre Troisgros: "He said, 'If you buy a beautiful piece of fish, season it well and cook it perfectly, already you're a great chef.' He felt if you could do this, you had what it took."

Or as Holt put it, "It's better to stick to the basics and do them really well."

Those words resonated for Ruth.

"College kids would be less dependent on ramen noodles if they could learn what we learned about dicing, seasoning and cooking pasta and fish properly," she deduced.

"You guys are much more knowledgeable than we ever were!" Holt exclaimed. "Are your friends like you, or do you find that there are kids who really don't care what they eat?"

Ruth responded without hesitation.

"A lot of kids don't care because their parents don't care. I don't want to be a snob, but if someone brings in brownies and they used a mix, I know it's really quick to make them from scratch, and they taste so much better."

"Good chocolate, good sugar, good eggs," Holt began.

But Ruth finished the sentence.

"And butter."

"And butter!" Holt said, beaming.

Everyone should have an easy-to-prepare pasta dish in his or her repertoire. All the better if the redolence of garlic wafts down the hall. Arugula, tossed in at the end so it just wilts, is a good addition.

Linguine with

Garlic and Shrimp

Makes 4 to 6 servings

12 large cloves garlic, de-germed if necessary (halve cloves lengthwise and discard any green growth at the centers)

1 teaspoon kosher salt

4 ounces (1 stick) unsalted butter

¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil

1 pound (21 to 30 count) frozen, peeled and deveined raw shrimp, thawed

½ teaspoon sea salt, plus more to taste

-- Juice and zest of 2 large lemons (at least 3 tablespoons juice and 2 to 3 teaspoons zest)

½ teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, or to taste

1 pound dried linguine pasta

-- Freshly ground black pepper

Use a chef's knife to mince the garlic cloves on a large cutting board, then sprinkle the kosher salt over the garlic. Let it sit for a minute or so, then chop the garlic into finer bits. Drag the back of the knife over the mixture, pressing firmly several times, until a paste forms.

Heat the butter and oil in a large saute pan over medium heat. When the butter has melted, add the garlic and cook for 3 minutes, stirring frequently. Add the shrimp and season with the sea salt. Increase the heat to high and cook, stirring continuously, for 3 to 4 minutes, until the shrimp are a rosy pink and just cooked through. Add the lemon juice and zest and the crushed red pepper flakes, stirring to combine. Remove from the heat.

Bring a large pot of salted water (about 8 quarts) to a rolling boil over high heat. Add the linguine and cook according to package directions, stirring frequently, until the pasta is al dente. Drain, but do not rinse; place the pasta in a large serving bowl.

Spoon the shrimp mixture over the pasta and toss to combine. Use tongs to mound the linguine in the center of the bowl, or divide the pasta evenly among individual bowls. Taste and add freshly ground pepper and salt to taste; serve immediately.

NUTRITION Per serving (based on 6): 588 calories, 26 g protein, 60 g carbohydrates, 27 g fat, 12 g saturated fat, 156 mg cholesterol, 601 mg sodium, 3 g dietary

Don't be dismayed by the number of ingredients. The vegetables are easy to prep, and they help to build a flavorful sauce.

Make the effort to find garam masala, an Indian spice blend, at a specialty store instead of using generic curry powder. For a little extra flavor, vegetable broth (or chicken broth, if you do not require a meatless dish) may be substituted for the water used in the vegetables and the couscous.

Spiced Vegetable Couscous

Makes 6 to 8 servings

For the vegetables

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 large red onion, finely chopped

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ cup tomato puree

3½ teaspoons garam masala

1½ cups cauliflower florets

1½ cups baby-cut carrots, cut in half lengthwise

1 medium red bell pepper, stemmed, seeded and cut into ¼-inch dice

-- Water

6 medium ripe plum tomatoes, about 1½ pounds, coarsely chopped

1 medium zucchini, trimmed and cut into ½-inch dice

1 14- or 15-ounce can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

1 teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

¼ cup finely chopped cilantro leaves (from 3 to 4 stems)

For the couscous

2 cups water

1½ teaspoons salt

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

2 cups couscous

For the vegetables: Heat the oil in a large saute pan over medium heat. Add the onion and garlic; cook, stirring, for about 2 minutes, until they have softened but not browned. Add the tomato puree and garam masala. Cook, stirring, for 2 minutes, until the mixture is fragrant and warmed through.

Add the cauliflower, carrots and red bell pepper, mixing well. Add enough water to cover the vegetables halfway. Increase the heat to high so the liquid comes to a boil, then reduce the heat to medium-low. Cover and cook for 5 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the vegetables are cooked through but not mushy.

Add the tomatoes, zucchini and chickpeas; cook, covered, for 10 minutes (the tomatoes will have broken down, saucelike), then add the salt, black pepper and cilantro. (The vegetables can be prepared to this point 1 day in advance and kept refrigerated. Reheat before serving.) For the couscous: Meanwhile, combine the 2 cups of water, the salt and butter in a large saucepan; bring to a boil over high heat. Remove from the heat and add the couscous, stirring until it is all moistened. Cover the pan and let stand for 3 minutes.

To assemble: Use a fork to fluff the couscous, separating the grains. Transfer to a warmed serving dish and spoon the vegetables on top, along with any liquid. Serve hot.

NUTRITION Per serving (based on 8): 355 calories, 11 g protein, 59 g carbohydrates, 9 g fat, 3 g saturated fat, 8 mg cholesterol, 635 mg sodium, 8 g dietary fiber

These warm comfort-food sandwiches are jazzed up with ingredients easily found in the grocery store. They can be baked in a toaster oven.

Toasted Fontina and Prosciutto Sandwiches

Makes 4 servings

3 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature

8 slices good-quality sandwich bread

4 teaspoons pepper jelly or fig jam

6 ounces Italian fontina cheese, cut into thin slices

2 cups baby arugula leaves

4 ounces thinly sliced domestic prosciutto

4 teaspoons grainy mustard

Position an oven rack on the lowest level of the oven; preheat to 375 degrees. Line a large baking sheet with parchment paper or aluminum foil.

Use 1½ tablespoons of the butter to coat the top sides of 4 pieces of bread; place them on the baking sheet, buttered sides down.

Spread each of the unbuttered sides of the bread (now face up on the baking sheet) with the jelly or jam (using about 1 teaspoon per slice). Then divide the cheese, arugula and prosciutto evenly among the 4 slices, placing those ingredients on top of the jelly or jam.

Spread the remaining 4 slices of bread with the grainy mustard; place them mustard side down on the topped bread slices, to form 4 sandwiches. Spread the tops of the sandwiches with the remaining 1½ tablespoons of butter.

Bake on the lowest rack for 3 to 4 minutes until the sandwiches have browned on the underside. Remove the pan from the oven and use a spatula to turn the sandwiches over. Return them to the oven and bake for 3 to 4 minutes, until the cheese is melted and the sandwiches are golden brown on both sides.

To serve, cut each sandwich diagonally to form 2 triangles.

NUTRITION Per sandwich: 454 calories, 23 g protein, 31 g carbohydrates, 26 g fat, 15 g saturated fat, 92 mg cholesterol, 1518 mg sodium, 1 g dietary fiber.