les bons temps

Laissez les bons temps rouler!

My soul sings with the contrasts of the seasons. Unfortunately, I don't experience seasonality in the weather patterns of our beloved, beautiful, but minimal-change climate of San Francisco.

Perhaps that is why I've embraced all the more strongly both the harvest and liturgical seasons since our move here 3 1/2 years ago. We eat and celebrate the movements of seasons, even if the Northern California marine surroundings are asynchronus around us.

No glorious robes of autumnal color in the trees ? No frosty mornings of early winter? Well then, it's time to decorate our home for fall, followed by Advent, and to do so all the more emphatically as we eat root vegetables and leafy greens in abundance and creativity, even if we do tire of them.

No crocus, then iris, then tulip blooms peeking up above snow-crested soil? Never fear, branches of Japanese cherry trees, adorned with delicate blooms appear to perch above a previously bare log of driftwood on our dining room table. And a stark wood and iron cross, all rough and unfinished, waits an interminable 40+ days before flowers weave around it as Lent gives way to Easter. And, OH those first sprigs of local asparagus that we steam sparingly and nibble with great relish! YES, these are our movement into spring.

It is in this context of oppositions that I embrace Mardi Gras.

The contrasts: into the cold (well, for us, cool and wet), dark winter... breaks a night of bright, sparkly and lavish revelry! Amidst wool and galoshes and root vegetables... a dinner of too much: rich and spicy, egged and buttery and sugary cake, sequined masks and sloshing adult beverages.

And then. Ash Wednesday's humility and mortality suddenly ushers us into the period of reflection that is Lent. A spring cleaning of the soul. A time to let light shine into the dark crevices of our life. Our time of sincere intention, even if not actualization, of justice toward God, ourself, and others.

So, along with these few things of years past, I give you a king cake. A brioche, coffee-cake like braided circle of dough, slathered in icing and sprinkled with crystals of purple, green, and gold.

Did you know that these colors are symbolic as well? Green is faith, gold is power, purple is justice. And so the themes of each season bleed together as the contrasts of each ritual push us to seek meaning in the mundane. This resource continues to challenge and inspire. Thank you, dearest MCS for introducing me to Gertrud years ago.

And to all, a hearty cheers! Enjoy a bit of excess in the darkness, for, after a time of patience and refining, the light will come!

King Cake

serves 12

1 c warm milk

1/2 c sugar

2 Tbsp yeast

1/2 c butter, room temperature

1/4 c coconut oil

1/4 c vegetable oil

2 eggs, room temperature

1 tsp vanilla

zest of 1 lemon

zest of 1 orange

3 1/2 to 4 c flour

1/8 tsp freshly grated nutmeg

1/3 c cinnamon sugar

2 c powdered sugar

2-3 Tbsp lemon juice

1-2 Tbsp cream or milk

3 c colored sugars (yellow, green, purple)

Dissolve the yeast and half of the sugar in warm milk. Let sit until foamy (about 10min).

Meanwhile, cream fats (butter, coconut oil, and vegetable oil) with remaining sugar, beating until fluffy with a stand mixer. Add eggs one at a time, incorporating well. Add vanilla, zests, and nutmeg and mix briefly.

Add 1/3 of flour, incorporate, followed by 1/3 of the liquid mixture. Continue to alternate additions of flour and liquid until all is combined. Continue to add flour in 1/4c increments until the dough begins to pull away from the sides of the bowl.

Cover the dough and allow to rise for 90min (or until doubled in size). Beware letting it rise for an extra 20min accidentally! (This was a double batch, below.)

Pat, then roll 1/3 of dough into a rectangle (roughly 4" by 12") on a floured surface. Sprinkle a third of the cinnamon sugar onto the surface and spread evenly. Roll lengthwise into a long tube, pinching edges to seal. Repeat with the 2nd third, then the final third of dough.

Braid dough logs on a sheet parchment paper, then gently bend into a circle. Weave and press ends together to seal. Tuck a small trinket (baby Jesus or a dried bean or a nut) into the dough and cover to conceal. Cover and allow to rise for 30min (until puffed, but not doubled).

Near the end of the second rising time, preheat oven to 375degF.

Bake king cake in preheated oven for 20-25 min, until golden. Allow to cool to lukewarm before decorating.

Mix powdered sugar with lemon juice and cream/milk until a thick glaze is formed. Drizzle onto barely warm cake, then gently spread to coat. Immediately sprinkle with colored sugars in a pattern.

As you slice, remind guests to diligently search for the hidden trinket/bean/nut... and crown the lucky finder King/Queen of Mardi Gras!

Simple, French

I'm a fan of Ina Garten's recipes. I've never watched her show (but just because I'm not a TV watcher), but I do own several of her cookbooks and particularly like this one and this one. I enjoy the bold flavor combinations she uses (Indonesian ginger and garlic chicken) and decadent baked goods (maple oat scones, anyone?) and appreciate her no-fuss approach with a focus on quality ingredients ("good olive oil" is a recurrent theme).

But the most enduring Barefoot Contessa recipe in my kitchen, indeed, the one I make again and again and again, is her simple Green Salad Vinaigrette. This hits my table frequently not just because of the brilliantly simple way it's prepared but also because of a happy memory. It reminds me of a French acquaintance who, perhaps 12 years ago, brought a green salad to a potluck meal. The guests, including yours truly, swooned over the flavors, the absolute simplicity. The entirety of the dish was a minced fresh herb or two with velvety red leaf lettuce, tossed in a vinaigrette with raw egg yolk (oh my!), garlic, oil, and vinegar.

So when I read this BC recipe in her Parisian cookbook a few years later, I immediately latched on. It's been part of my repertoire ever since and not one I'm likely to ever tire of. Her recommendation to make the entire salad in advance: emulsify the vinaigrette (I whisk it in the salad bowl itself!), top the dressing with salad greens an hour or 2 before guests arrive... let is sit, unassuming, still crisp, then toss just before serving. No last-minute fuss, but no soggy salad greens either! Perfect.

No bottles of salad dressing, no mess. And it's a kind of magic for guests to behold, as if the dressing emenates, magically emerging from the bowl itself.

Every time I make this salad dressing I feel OhSoAuthentically FRENCH in my cooking.

And now you can, too. Even if neither of us is wandering around sans shoes in gran Paris like Ms. Garten.

Perhaps one day...

Ina's French Green Salad & Vinaigrette

serves 6-8

3 Tbsp champagne, white wine, or mirin vinegar

1 tsp dijon mustard

1/2 tsp minced/pressed garlic

1 egg yolk

3/4 tsp kosher salt

1/4 tsp fresh-ground pepper

1/2 olive oil

salad greens and any desired salad additions

Bring all ingredients to room temperature. Whisk all ingredients except oil together in the base of a salad bowl. Slowly drizzle in olive oil, whisking until well emulsified.

Top vinaigrette with salad greens and fresh herbs, adding shaved carrots, thinly sliced radicchio, chevre, croutons, etc. Leave at room temperature for an hour or 2 prior to dinner party, then simply toss to serve.

FroYo

I will confess that I am a product of the fro-yo craze. You may recall- TCBY, ICBIY (now Yogen Früz), and the like. Oh yes, these were after-school treat destinations.

And the frozen yogurt enthusiasm of the jazzercize-crazed 80s has resurged of late. You may have tried Tuttimelon (in the Bay Area), Fraiche, Yoppi, Blush Organic, or the like with by-the-ounce self-serve machines and toppings galore. (Mochi. Oh, yeeeeees, mochi!)

I have this long-standing love affair with ice cream- you know, the full-fat, smooth mouth-feel, creamy stuff.

But today the draw of live, active cultures (!), and that distinctive, alluring tang of fro-yo has called me back to my roots. It was time to put my KitchenAid ice cream maker to a different use. And so we did. And so we liked.

Lightly Lavender FroYo

makes 4c

2 1/2 c (630 g) strained plain (whole fat) yogurt

1/2 c lavender simple syrup (or 1/2 c sugar or other flavored syrup/sugar)

1 tsp vanilla

I strain my yogurt with a fine mesh strainer, lined with a paper towel.

I make the simple syrup in a 1:1 ratio of sugar and water, infused with dried or fresh lavender from my yard. Vanilla is just vodka and vanilla beans, allowed to macerate in the corner of a cabinet for a month or so.

Mix ingredients. Chill for 1 hour.

Process in ice cream maker according to instructions. Remove to a container and freeze for 1 hour to cure, or serve soft.

We served this with sliced, dessert-wine poached pears and a drizzle of salted caramel. Rich, complex, & glorious!