You know that Mama makes quesadillas and fish tacos on occasion, but did you know she also makes fajitas? A lot of people cook a marinated skirt steak or chicken breast, then thinly slice it for the fajita filling, but Mama made ours minus the meat. And they’re really simple—but not necessarily quick, like a quesadilla. Mama said the more thinly the vegetables are sliced, the quicker they’ll cook and soften, so that part’s really up to you.
You can also change up the veggies and spices you use. Try zucchini and carrot ribbons with fresh mint or cilantro. You can even dress them like a taco salad with tomatoes, lettuce, sour cream, and cheese. And if you don’t want to use a corn tortilla (Mama and Papa say they’re pretty bland, but I ate mine), use an alternative kind. You can serve it with salsa, refried beans, Spanish rice, or whatever else you prefer. Mama whipped up a quick guacamole. Normally, I love avocados, but tonight, I just wasn’t feeling the guac. I tried everything (I’m getting very clever about the size of my “no thank you” bite), but I stuck with the Spanish rice.
Love, Jude
Mama deconstructed my fajita for me, but she needn’t have bothered. I was all about the rice.
Easy Veggie Fajitas
Canola oil
½ Spanish or sweet onion, thinly sliced
1 red, yellow, or orange bell pepper, thinly sliced
½–1 jalapeño or Serrano pepper, minced (optional)
1 or 2 cloves garlic, minced
1 can black beans, drained & rinsed
½ tsp cumin
Salt and pepper, to taste
Juice of 1 lime
6” corn or flour tortillas
In a large skillet, heat the oil over moderate heat. Add the onion and pepper and sauté until browned and very tender. Add the garlic, and sauté 1–2 minutes more. Add the beans, cumin, s&p, and lime juice, and stir to combine and heat the beans. Remove the pan from the heat. Heat tortillas according to package directions. Spoon about ½ cup filling into each and serve.
Note: Mama says you can add a tropical twist to this fajita filling by finely chopping up a small amount of pineapple or mango and adding that along with the beans. (Even with the pineapple in ours, I still didn’t want to eat more than 1 bite.) And if you’re adding meat, cook that separately.
How can anyone keep all these holidays straight? Between my daycare’s crafts and Mama’s half-hearted window decorations, I didn’t know if a leprechaun was coming to hide eggs or a giant bunny was snoozing under a rainbow with a bunch of money. It’s all very confusing to a 2-year-old, having Easter follow so closely on the heels of St. Patrick’s day. I’ll just tell you a little bit of what I ate on both days.
For the former, I helped Mama make Irish soda bread. We’ve made this before, only this time I really helped form my own loaf. (I gave it to my teacher.)
Soda bread just out of the oven
Mama made her honey butter, too, and it was really yummy when the bread first came out of the oven and was still warm enough to melt the butter. Mmmm…
I like picking out the currants.
Actually, we made it the day before St. Patrick’s day, so the next morning, Mama sliced it and made French toast out of it. Even better.
Though I wanted syrup, the honey butter really was enough for this French toast.
Next up: Easter. Many have asked me about what I found in my eggs that fine morning. Depending on who’s doing the asking, they either empathize with Mama or feel sorry for me. I’ll just say that I loved it all! I ate what came out of those eggs so fast, I hardly had time to share any of it (but I did, because I’ve always been known as a “good sharer”). There were chocolate-graham bunny crackers and gummy bunnies (just a few) and prunes and apricots. And 2 cars. And lots of coins to add to my piggy bank. Then I ran around the house screaming and jumping on the furniture for about an hour.
Doesn’t everybody get chocolate-bunny grahams and prunes for Easter?
For dinner, Mama decided to treat us to something new. Since we tend to have buttermilk in the house for pancakes, Mama decided to marinate some chicken thighs in it, then fry them up. I’ve never eaten anything like it before! They were crispy, yet succulent. But I ate only a couple bites. As for the rest of the meal, I give it a “meh.” She pureed lima beans with a bit more buttermilk and some herbs. She thought I would eat this up, considering my affinity for the little bean, but I didn’t like that I couldn’t pick them up. Even the sweet potato tater tots didn’t hold my attention. I guess that’s what happens when a kid finally comes down from a sugar high.
I couldn’t really focus on Easter dinner. I just wanted to play outside.
Overall, I enjoyed both holidays. I saw a parade on St. Patrick’s day, and I got to play with both Mama and Papa all day on Easter. There’s not much more that a kid can ask for. Except maybe more cars.
Love, Jude
Buttermilk Fried Chicken
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken thighs (preferably organic)
Salt and pepper
Buttermilk
Vegetable oil
Flour
Other spices, as desired
Rinse the thighs and set them in a shallow baking dish. Season with salt and pepper. Pour in enough buttermilk just to cover. Cover the dish and refrigerate for a few hours. When ready to cook, heat about 1 inch oil in a large frying pan over medium-high heat until a few flecks of flour sizzle in it (about 365°F). Pour about 1 cup flour into a large ziptop plastic bag and season it with salt and pepper and any other spices you like (paprika, chili powder, garlic powder, etc.). Take a thigh, shake off the excess buttermilk, and put it in the bag. Add a few more thighs (but don’t crowd the bag too much). Give it all a few hardy shakes until all the thighs are coated with flour, then take them out and either set them on a plate or gently place them in the hot oil. (Repeat with the remaining thighs–add more flour, if necessary.) Cook the thighs for 7 or 8 minutes, until golden brown, then gently turn and fry until golden on the other side and the chicken is cooked through. Remove to a plate covered with a paper towel.
It’s true. I really said it. I can’t tell you why I like them so much, but I gobble up lima beans. And green beans. But not cauliflower, as you know. Mama bargained with me that she would prepare more lima beans (I had eaten them all by this point) if I ate more salmon, which I liked, so that was an okay deal. What can I say? Some kids like jelly beans. I like lima beans.
I have to keep this short. Papa’s back in Italy this week, and Mama and I have worn each other out. We are both sooo sleepy.
Mama makes something she calls a one-pot Indian dish. It’s really simple, and I’ve mentioned it before because we have it about once a month. She starts with onions, cooked in oil, then adds whatever she finds in the fridge, beginning with garlic and ginger, curry powder, cardamom, some veggie stock, and coconut milk; she often adds home-canned tomatoes, chickpeas, peas, spinach, and basmati rice. This is always a “what’s-in-the-fridge” sort of dinner, but if Mama’s planning ahead, she might buy some paneer (Indian cheese) from an Indian market beforehand, and I really like that. Anyway, before you know it, the house smells so good and warm and inviting.
But before she even does that, she gets to making naan. Naan? you ask. Naan is a leavened bread–that means, it uses something (in this case, yeast) to rise. What’s funny about that is that naan doesn’t rise like the other breads we’ve made; it’s actually a flatbread.
Mama’s recipe is super simple to make and pretty good to eat. (I told her so myself.) And if you make the dough before you start the rest of your dinner, it’ll be ready to put in the oven by the time you’re just about ready to eat.
3 pieces of naan, all shiny from the melted ghee
But Mama didn’t stop at naan. She made me a mango lassi. (I helped press the button on the hand blender.) I’ve had one of these drinks before, but I can’t even begin to tell you how much I loved it tonight. It’s really similar to a smoothie, except I had it with dinner! I sported a lassi mustache through most of the meal. The drink was refreshing and cooling, as Mama made the dinner a wee bit spicy. (I like spicy, though.)
I’m saving this lassi for later.
All in all, this was a great dinner. I wouldn’t mind having it more than once a month–and the lassi, maybe every night.
Love, Jude
Naan
1 tsp active dry yeast
3/4 c warm water (105–110°, hot enough to hold your finger in it without scalding)
2 c all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 Tbsp veg oil or melted coconut oil
Pinch baking soda
2 1/2 Tbsp plain yogurt (or 2 Tbsp milk with a tsp. of lemon juice)
Preaheat oven to 500°. Dissolve the yeast in the water. Use a whisk to be sure it’s all dissolved and slightly foamy.
In a separate bowl, stir together the flour, salt, sugar, oil, soda, and yogurt. Add the yeast mixture and stir to combine, until smooth. Oil your hands and coat the dough ball. Set on a sprayed baking sheet and allow to double in size, 30-60 minutes. (Mama covers it with a light towel to keep the draft off.)
Divide the dough into 6 and roll out each piece on a floured surface–roll into more of an oval, rather than a circle (you know, like naan!). These don’t have to be perfect, remember. Wet your hands and flip the dough between them (so it stretches a bit). Put directly on a clean pizza stone on the bottom (or bottom rack) of oven, working in batches if necessary. (Mama feels a regular baking sheet that’s been preheated would also work, too.) Bake 4 to 6 minutes–keep an eye on them to bake them to your desired puffiness. (They’ll crisp up and brown the longer they’re in there.)
Remove from oven with tongs and immediately brush with melted butter. (If you want to get fancy, brown the butter for more of a ghee-like taste. And if you really want to get fancy, clarify that butter to make your own ghee.)
Mama’s Mango Lassi
1 ripe mango, peeled and cubed
Couple big tablespoons yogurt (plain, vanilla, or “banilla”)
About 1/4 cup canned coconut milk
Enough milk to thin [or swap out this and the canned coconut milk for coconut milk in a carton]
Few dashes of cardamom
Place all the ingredients in a blender and whir until smooth and creamy. (May also use a hand blender.) It should be thin enough that you can drink it with a straw, but not runny.
You know that Mama and I have made pizza before. Back when I first wrote about it, I’m embarrassed to admit, I was a bit on the fence about the stuff. That’s no longer the case.
Mama got a yen for pizza around 4:00, and that’s all the time that was needed to make the dough and a sauce from some home-canned tomatoes. She set the dough on the oven, so it proofed really quickly, then she made personal pizzas for each of us. Mine had roasted carrots, capers, and uncured bacon on it. Papa’s had carrots, capers, onions, bacon, and arugula. Mama had the same, minus the bacon. (She swears by arugula on pizza, but I wouldn’t touch it.)
A side of peas made this one good dinner.
The best part was that since most of this dinner made itself, Mama could play with me!
Love, Jude
Pizza Sauce
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 shallot, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/2 quart home-canned tomatoes with their juice, chopped (or a 15-oz can diced tomatoes)
1-2 tablespoons tomato paste
Pinch sugar
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Oregano (fresh or dried)
Basil (fresh or dried)
Heat the oil in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Cook the shallots until soft and golden, then add the garlic and cook 30-60 seconds more, until fragrant. Add the tomatoes, tomato paste, and sugar. Bring to a simmer, then let it cook down, stirring occasionally, until it begins to thicken. Season to taste with salt, pepper, oregano, and basil. Lower heat to medium-low and simmer sauce until it thickens to desired consistency. Marvel to yourself at how good the sauce tastes, then spread over pizza dough as is.
Yield: Mama really likes a saucy pizza, so this amount covered 4 6″ pizzas (or 1 medium-large pie)
You know I enjoy squash (because it’s orange). Mama tends to keep it simple—roasted and added to other things, like risotto, or mashed with sweet or savory flavors. Since squash is still so abundant right now, she tried something a little new, something that combines her two primary methods for cooking it.
First, Mama halved and seeded 2 acorn squash, smeared some olive oil on the cut sides, then sprinkled salt and pepper over them. She put them on a baking sheet, covered them with foil, and roasted them at 450ºF until they were soft and starting to caramelize, about half an hour.
In the meantime, she sautéed half a chopped onion and half a pound of finely chopped cremini mushrooms in a bit of olive oil, stirring occasionally. Somewhere along the way she added the leaves off a few sprigs of thyme and some salt and pepper. When the mushrooms and onion were tender and browned, she added 1 cup rice (she happened to have basmati on hand, which is easy enough) and sautéed that for a couple minutes to give the rice a nutty flavor. Then, just when the pan seemed like it was about to dry out, she added 2 cups homemade vegetable stock (chicken stock also would have worked). She brought it all to a boil, covered it, then reduced the heat and simmered it until the rice absorbed the liquid and was tender, about 20 minutes. You might recognize this as the pilaf method, and it sure makes for some tasty rice.
When everything was cooked, Mama carefully spooned the flesh out of the squash shells and added it to the skillet of rice and mushrooms. She said if she wanted to make it look fancy, she would have loaded up the shells with the mixture, but as it was just us, she glopped a big ol’ portion on our plates. (This is why there’s no picture. You probably wouldn’t want to eat it either.) Then she grated some Parmesan on top.
I was reticent at first, because this didn’t look like any squash I’ve eaten before, but Mama reminded me about my “no thank you” bite. I’m sure glad she did, though, because this was quite tasty! The roasted squash flavor was subtle, and the rice gave it body and texture. I didn’t even mind the mushrooms, as I’m still hit or miss on those. Mama ate this for dinner, along with steamed mixed veggies, and Papa and I added pork to our dinners. I really just wanted to eat the squash and the veggies, though.
I don’t know what else Mama might have snuck into that dish because after dinner, I went on the kitchen floor to play with my cars…and I didn’t get up. I fell fast asleep right where I played, much like those Flopsy Bunnies. I suspect Mama might be giving me the squash again tonight….
To be fair, I refused to nap today, so that might have played a part in my passing out mid-play.
Ok, so I’m a little late, but I went to a Valentine’s playdate today, so I think this post still counts. I had a BIG PARTY at daycare this week, too, so I’ve been really busy making valentines. And Mama and I made a special kind of cookie. They were red because they were made out of beets! We’ve never made cookies like this before, so I was just as eager as Mama to try them. Six ingredients, vegan, and very low in sugar–they were suitable right from the start. The only thing Mama would change about the recipe was the amount of oil (she needed more to bring the dough together), but otherwise, they were easy-peasy.
I’m getting pretty good at rolling dough.
By the time Mama took this picture, that cookie was in my mouth.
Mama used a Linzer cookie cutter to get the heart out of the center.
I have to say, I really like these cookies. I especially like that when I ask for them, Mama actually gives me one. They taste slightly of beets, but honestly, if you use fresh beets, you’ll taste nothing but their sweet earthiness. It’s when you keep beets in your fridge for too long that they start getting “beety.” Still, because it was Valentine’s day, Mama made up a small batch of red velvet cupcakes. Guess who found them?
When Papa found me with this cupcake in my mouth, I didn’t think twice. I said, “Greta did it!” (That’s my dog.)
Which is what I told Mama for at least the 20th time. (I can count that high now, so I should know.) She didn’t seem to believe me. She kept saying that wasn’t true, that there were potatoes and cheese involved, and that I needed to have “just 1 bite.” I think if she thought about it hard enough, she’d realize that I really don’t like cauliflower. I couldn’t tell you the last time I ate the stuff. I even took more bites of my meatloaf as a peace offering, but she wasn’t buying. Our standoff eventually escalated beyond “no grapes” and “no Caillou” to “and you’ll go straight to bed.” So I took a stinkin’ bite (while my mouth was full of meatloaf). She asked if it was okay, and I nodded. Then she asked if I would take another bite, and I said, “No, thank you.” Then, “I want my grapes!” and “I want Caillou!” So you see…everyone wins.
Love, Jude
Baked Cheesy Potatos and Cauliflower
3–4 medium potatoes (Mama used yellow ones; choose whatever’s smallish and organic)
1 head cauliflower (organic ones tend to be smaller)
A few sprigs of fresh thyme, leaves stripped (you may also use dill or parsley)
Salt & pepper
A Tbsp or so of butter (optional)
Couple handfuls shredded cheese of choice (Mama used Cheddar)
½ cup veggie broth (or milk)
Preheat the oven to 450ºF. Butter an 8 x 11″ baking dish (or even a 9 x 13″).
Peel and slice the potatoes. Slice the cauliflower into “steaks” and pull away the bottom-most core. (Did you know you could do that? I didn’t!) Place in a large pot, cover with a couple inches of cold water, add salt, and bring to a boil. Boil for about 10 minutes, until the potatoes are tender and the cauliflower just starts to get tender. (Don’t worry if you go over. You can’t hurt it.) Drain.
Spread ½ the potato-cauliflower mixture in the prepared dish. Sprinkle with half the thyme and some salt and pepper. Sprinkle with a handful of cheese (as much as you like). Repeat with the remaining potato-cauliflower mix, thyme, and cheese. Pour the broth over it, then dot with a couple small cubes of butter, if you like. Bake for 15–20 minutes, until the cheese is melty and golden.
I don’t care how much cheese is on there, I’m not eating it!
Note: If you really want to make this a funky-looking dish, choose purple or orange cauliflower and purple potatoes! Also, Mama says it’s important that you buy a block of cheese then grate it yourself. Those packs of pre-shredded cheese have a lot more stuff in them than cheese, like cornstarch. Eww!
I suppose it was too much to ask that Mama continue her “easier is better” streak. She had crêpes on the brain (isn’t that a silly image?), so she made the batter before she left for work, as it’s better if it rests a couple hours. Her plan was to fill the thin French pancakes with roasted asparagus and top them with Hollandaise sauce.
Since that wouldn’t be enough of a meal for Papa, she called him on her way home and asked him to turn the oven on and trim a pork tenderloin. What a funny looking thing that was. Papa took a sharp knife and cut away the visible bits of fat and something shiny looking, what Mama called “silver skin.” She said this is a tough membrane that runs along some muscle meats, and it never gets tender, so best to just cut it away.
Usually, Mama sears the tenderloin in a frying pan before putting it in the oven (to give it extra flavor), or she butterflies it and stuffs it with other forms of yumminess, but tonight she had other designs. She rubbed the entire loin with olive oil, then coated it in herbs that smelled like summer and sunshine. She called it herbes de Provence, which is a lovely blend of things like savory, thyme, lavender, fennel, oregano, and basil (like curry, recipes vary). While the tenderloin roasted, Mama took a small saucepan and combined a bit of fig jam with a splash of water, to thin it, and some balsamic vinegar for tartness; she would heat this later as a sauce for the pork.
Then she started the crêpes (she took the batter out of the fridge when she got home so that it wasn’t cold-cold). Even if you use a well-seasoned pan or a nonstick crêpe pan, it’s really difficult to make quick work out of crêpes. You can make only 1 at a time! I saw lots of pan swirling as Mama made crêpe after crêpe. Luckily, you can just stack them on a plate and eat them when you’re ready.
After the pork finished roasting, it had to rest, so Mama put the asparagus in the oven and started the Hollandaise sauce. She said that even Eric Ripert makes his in a blender these days, but Mama dislikes getting out the blender and prefers to make her sauce by hand. She might want to reconsider, as her first attempt “broke.” I saw her trying to save it, muttering under her breath, but in the end, she scrapped it and made a fresh batch with new melted butter and a new egg yolk. I hope she and Papa enjoyed it because I wouldn’t touch the stuff—it didn’t look like any egg I’ve ever eaten.
Doesn’t the asparagus look cozy wrapped in that crêpe?
I like my dinners deconstructed.
I dutifully dipped my juicy pork in the sweet fig sauce. I ate my skinny spears of asparagus, after sprinkling some Parmesan on them. And I munched my soft crêpe. (I like regular pancakes better, though.) All in all, a pretty tasty meal. And I’m pretty sure Mama’s eyeing the leftover crêpes for breakfast with bananas and a smear of Nutella. It’s just a guess.
Love, Jude
Provençal-Kissed Pork Tenderloin with Fig Sauce and Roasted Asparagus Crêpes with Hollandaise Sauce
For the pork:
1 pork tenderloin (1–1¼ pound), trimmed
Olive oil to coat
Herbes de Provence (or other herb blend) to coat (about 2 Tbsp)
For the sauce:
½ cup fig jam or preserves (or any flavor that you feel complements pork, such as apricot, peach, apple, plum)
2 Tbsp water (plus more to thin, if necessary)
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
For the asparagus:
1 pound asparagus, bottom inch trimmed
1 Tbsp olive oil
Salt and pepper
For the crêpes:
1 cup whole-wheat flour (pastry flour will yield a lighter crêpe)
1/2 cup + 2 Tbsp water
1/2 cup milk
2 eggs
1 Tbsp oil
1/4 tsp salt
For the Hollandaise:
2 Tbsp clarified butter for every egg yolk (but Mama says she’ll reserve this lesson for another day)
Preheat the oven to 400ºF. (If you’re in a hurry, you could go as high as 425ºF.) Coat the tenderloin with oil, then with the herbs. Set on a baking sheet and roast for about 20 minutes (internal temp between 140ºF and 145ºF). Remove from the oven and let rest for 10 minutes before slicing.
Combine the fig sauce ingredients in a small saucepan and warm over low heat. Add more water to obtain desired consistency. Serve over pork.
Arrange the aspargus on a baking sheet and drizzle with olive oil. Roll or toss gently to coat. Season with salt and pepper. Roast at 400º (or 425º) until tender and browned, about 10 minutes, depending on thickness of stalks.
In a blender or with an immersion blender, combine the crêpe ingredients and blend until smooth. Cover and refrigerate at least 2 hours. Bring to room temperature before proceeding. Heat an 8-inch seasoned skillet or nonstick crêpe pan over medium heat. Add butter or oil, if desired. Stir batter to reincorporate ingredients, then pour ¼ cup batter into hot pan. Swirl pan so liquid runs along the outer edge—it will set as it heats. Cook for 1–1½ minutes, until set, then flip crêpe. (Do not overcook.) Cook for about 30 seconds more, then remove to a plate. Repeat with remaining batter, stacking finished crêpes. Makes 8. Wrap a crêpe around a few spears of asparagus and drizzle Hollandaise over it.
Since it was just Mama and me for dinner, Mama didn’t feel like dirtying the whole kitchen. She’s starting to catch on that easier is better when it comes to weeknight meals. And because I helped from start to finish, this one took us less than half an hour to make. (Mama says the quick-cooking items helped, too.) Here’s what we did:
Mama rinsed a pint of baby tomatoes under the faucet then showed me the bag of frozen, peeled & deveined shrimp she had (quick-cooking item #1), explaining that they come from the ocean. “I want to eat that,” I said, but she said that the shrimp needed to be thawed and cooked first. Into a colander they went, and she ran cool water over them.
I turned my attention to eating the tomatoes as I handed them to Mama, one by one, naming their colors, so she could slice them in half. (This happened after I dumped nearly the whole bowl of them onto the floor…and they had to be rinsed again.) Mama put the halved tomatoes (quick-cooking item #2) on a baking sheet and added the thawed shrimp. (They thawed that quickly!) She drizzled olive oil over it and mixed everything with her hands. Then we sprinkled kosher salt and pepper over everything. (One shrimp may have received the lion’s share of my salt sprinkles…) As Mama put the shrimp under the broiler, she said we had to be very careful because the oil we put on the wet shrimp and tomatoes is going to “jump away” from the water once it gets hot. Then we danced like jumping-beans.
While the shrimp cooked, and after we danced, Mama measured and I poured couscous and water into a saucepan (quick-cooking item #3). (She didn’t have thawed stock, otherwise she would’ve used that.) Using a scissors, she cut a handful of dried apricots and added those while trying to keep me from eating them up. Ditto with the handful of golden raisins. She stirred it together, covered it, got it hot on the stove, then just let it sit. (Alternatively, she could have added hot water to the couscous without ever turning on a burner.)
By the time the shrimp was done—just when they turned pink and their tails curled—the couscous was ready. Mama and I tossed in a few pine nuts, and she cut in some mint leaves with her scissors before fluffing it with a fork.
See how the shrimps’ tails are curled and some of the tomatoes are charred?
That’s quite a big boy portion!
It takes a certain kind of person (Mama) to give a kid a fork for eating couscous.
I love eating couscous. It’s funny trying to keep it on my fork or spoon. I especially liked the sweet apricots and raisins. The shrimp were really yummy, too. We even had leftovers for Papa when he came home. That’s the kind of cook I am.
Love, Jude
Roasted Shrimp & Tomatoes with Fruity Couscous
1 pound peeled and deveined shrimp (smaller cook quicker)
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, halved
Olive oil to drizzle
Salt and pepper
½ cup couscous
6–8 dried apricots, quartered (or chopped)
2 Tbsp golden raisins
Pinch sea salt
¾ cup water (or chicken or vegetable stock)
1–2 Tbsp pine nuts, toasted if desired
3 mint leaves, chopped (optional)
Preheat the broiler. Combine the shrimp and the tomatoes on a baking sheet. Drizzle with olive oil and toss to coat. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Broil 6–8″ from heat source until the shrimp turn opaque and their tails start to curl, 3–4 minutes. (Some tomatoes will start to char, as well.)
Meanwhile, combine the couscous, apricots, raisins, and salt in a small saucepan. Bring the water (or stock) to a boil, then pour over the couscous. Stir to combine, cover, then set aside until cooked through, about 5 minutes. Add the mint, if using, then fluff with a fork. (Alternatively, combine the ingredients up through the mint, bring to a boil, then immediately take off the heat and cover.)
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