Join in the Feast

FroYo

2012-01-16T15:00:00.000-08:00

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!

This Time, A Galette

2012-01-06T22:36:00.001-08:00

Epiphany.

What a wonderfully quiet and pensive time. The contrast of the rush of preparations for the arrival (Advent) with the long, star-gazing journey of magi is a needful thing. There is something very calming about repetition. Step after step. Striding, striding, striding. Studying, plotting a course, dusting off, then continuing on, hoping it's not all vanity.

I'll share an excerpt of poetry (yes, yes, this is a culinary blog, but *indulge* me), written by our son's name-sake. A piece that won my heart.

A hard time we had of it.

At the end we preferred to travel all night,

Sleeping in snatches,

With the voices singing in our ears, saying

That this was all folly.

I'd say there are many parallels between laboring over pastry and a long journey toward wonder. Though I would argue that what the magi found trumps any oven's yield.

For an Epiphany past, I baked a Gateau des Rois (the buttery, yet bready version of a king cake). Supposedly those brioche cakes are older, more authentically fitting for Epiphany.

Hmmm. I have found that I prefer the puff pastry version. So, this year, I return to the galette. Galette des Rois are heavenly, rich, buttery, and, quite simply... fit for a kingly celebration. I melded several recipes and tweaked my technique. I labored, though not a hard time of it. And the little cherubic faces of those who tasted, hoping to be crowned upon finding the Christ child hidden inside, might say it was not all folly.

Don't lose sleep over this one. Rest, dear journey-wearied friends, as I have been doing.

Breathe deeply, and enjoy whatever wonders are set before you today. Bake this tomorrow. Or the day after. The French eat these the whole month through!

Galette des Rois

serves 8-10

120 g (3/4 c) almond flour

120 g (heaping 1/2 c) sugar

120 g butter (1 stick)

a few drops almond extract

a drizzle of vanilla extract

1 large egg

1 package puff pastry (2 sheets- total 500g)

2 Tbsp orange marmalade or apricot preserves

1 egg, lightly beaten

2 Tbsp simple syrup

Grind almonds in food processor if not using purchased almond meal.

Cream butter and sugar in a mixer. Blend in almonds until well incorporated. Mix in almond and vanilla extracts. Beat in egg. You have created frangipane!

Meanwhile, thaw puff pastry.

Roll and trim each sheet into a 13" disc. Spread center of one with preserves, leaving a 1/2" border. Spread frangipane evenly on top of preserves. Press trinket or a large dried bean (fava) into the frangipane, burying partially as to better conceal its hiding place.

I repeat: do not forget to include the plastic Christ child (or substitutionary trinket).

Is it sacrilege to think that submersion into a frangipane bath is indeed a most honoring thing?

Trinket now in position, dampen the uncovered rim of pastry. Place 2nd disc of pastry on top, aligned with the bottom layer. Press edges firmly to seal.

Using the dull/reverse tip of knife, engrave a pattern (swirl, checkerboard, etc) onto surface of top disc. Puncture disc in 5 spots (center and 4 peripheral holes) for ventilation during baking. Fold or pinch border decoratively.

Beat remaining egg and brush onto galette evenly. Refrigerate, lightly covered, until cold - 1 hour or overnight.

Preheat oven to 350. Bake cold pastry until golden brown and puffed, 30 min. Remove from oven and brush lightly with simple syrup for extra shine.

Serve warm or room temperature, cutting entire galette into precisely the number of slices as you have guests.

Do be certain to alert guests to the trinket or bean tucked away inside;

the one who finds the treasure is king for the day!

At Its Finest

2011-12-12T19:36:00.000-08:00

I'm an icing person. As opposed to a cake person.

I'm the one offering to swap cake for icing at weddings. (Though I usually regret it within a few hours when I crash down off the sugar high.)

And I do so love a good buttercream.

REAL buttercream.

The grocery bakery's sickly sweet whipped vegetable shortening icing has its place, I suppose. Yes, I'll admit that I even enjoy licking *that* off cupcakes. A spoonful from a tub of brand-name icing off the shelf even made me happy back in the day.

But real buttercream is magic.

I think the most magical icing of them all is meringue buttercream. Not only is it richly buttery, and not too saccharinely sweet, but it behaves itself. Well, perhaps not upon the waist or the hips, but it does stand proud on cupcakes, just so. It doesn't wilt into a sad mess if the weather is a touch too warm. It's practically perfect in every way.

Don't be mystified!

I got hooked on Kaye's (Italian) Buttercream from the Whimsical Bakehouse cookbook and haven't looked back since (except when baking & decorating for vegans). It's straight forward and there's no going back.

I've made several variations (including chocolate hazelnut buttercream), but my favorite is salted caramel buttercream. Ah, yes. It was the topping for those to-die-for cupcakes I posted, well... far too long ago. It took a kick in the pants from MCS to get me posting again. THIS is worth the wait, though, friends.

Enjoy!

Salted Caramel Italian Buttercream Icing

makes 4-ish cups

1/4 c water

1 c + 2 Tbsp sugar

1/2 c egg whites (room temp; about 5 large egg whites)

3 sticks unsalted butter (room temp)

1/2 tsp vanilla

1/2 c salted caramel sauce

Bring water and sugar to boil in a saucepan. Wash crystals off of the sides with a wet pastry brush as needed. Once the syrup begins to boil, set a timer for 5min.

Have egg whites ready in bowl of stand mixer with whip attachment. When timer timer goes off, reset for 2min and begin to whip on high speed. They should be stiff by the time the timer goes off.

Remove sugar syrup from the heat and slowly drizzle into mixing bowl (along the side, trying to avoid the whip) as it continues to beat at high speed. Once all of syrup has been added to the egg whites, set timer for 10min. The bowl should be barely warm to the touch when timer goes off.

Begin to chop 1" pieces off of the sticks of butter, adding each piece one at a time to mixing bowl. If/when the buttercream begins to elevate, attempting to escape from the bowl, reduce speed to low. Add vanilla once butter is completely incorporated. Beat until icing is fluffy. (When it appears curdled, do NOT fear. It will smooth itself momentarily!)

Mix salted caramel sauce into buttercream to taste- roughly 1/2 c. Reserve a couple of Tbsp of the salted caramel to drizzle along the sides of your decorating bag/tube to give a nice swirled appearance to the icing as you decorate. Try to resist eating too many spoonfuls as you go!

Trendy

2011-11-22T08:30:00.000-08:00

I'm trendy, don't ya know?

Cupcakes have had their moment in the spotlight. And... as if I couldn't achieve anything more trend-following than a batch of phenomenal cupcakes... I went and made MINI cupcakes.

Ok. Fine. Not just cupcakes and their mini-me's, but salted caramel crested cupcakes. Then I sprinkled them with cocoa nibs.

(insert utterances of ecstasy)

Yep. That's how ultra-cool I am. *wink-wink*

(Honestly, if you follow pastry trends, French macarons are really the cutting-edge dessert. More on my adventures in baking those another day.)

These cupcakes bake up easily and are (in my humble opinion) a most-wonderful combination of satisfying crumb and moist cake- not too dense and sticky, but just a bit crumbly... and very, very chocolatey. I think the yogurt & olive oil add nice complexity, without distracting from the intent. Which is ultra-rich, indulgent, chocolate cake in a palm-sized package.

High-five!

Ultra-Rich Chocolate Cupcakes

makes 1 dozen

4 Tbsp (1/2 stick) butter, cubed

4 Tbsp olive oil

3 oz bittersweet chocolate

1/2 c cocoa powder

3/4 c flour

3/4 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

2 eggs

3/4 c brown sugar

1 tsp vanilla

1/2 c sour cream

Preheat oven to 350degF. Prepare muffin tins with paper cup liners or cooking spray.

Melt butter, oil, chocolate, and cocoa powder in a double boiler, stirring until smooth. Remove from heat.

Combine dry ingredients.

Beat eggs with brown sugar and vanilla. Beat in half of sour cream, then half of flour mixture. Repeat. Mix until just incorporated.

Divide batter evenly amongst the 12 muffin cups. Bake for 15-17 min (or 10-11 min for mini-cupcakes), until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

Remove muffins from tins to cool completely. Ice & decorate as desired.

A glimpse of the nearly-finished product:

The recipe for salted caramel swirled into meringue buttercream will have to wait for another day...

The Best Yam* Muffins You Ever Had

2011-11-17T18:30:00.000-08:00

We've been rocking the fall tubers around here!

In the past 2 weeks we've made & enjoyed: sweet potato gnocchi, sweet potato pancakes, roasted sweet potatoes with honey butter, sweet potato fries, and sweet potato muffins. And more sweet potato muffins. A batch of sweet potato soup is soon to come...

Maybe sweet potato muffins don't sound all that enticing, but these are the BEST DAMN muffins ever.

Ahem. Well, if not, then definitely the best YAM* muffins.

*(Actually, they're not yam muffins. See corrective comments below! But all of the post-publication reading on various tubers has me wondering... I wonder if this recipe would make the best YAM muffins. Betcha it would! wink wink)

Seriously. I found the idea of sweet potato muffins here and tweaked the recipe just a bit for better nutrition (ie: my goal was not cupcakes). And now I can't stop making them. I think I might need a muffin intervention. On second thought, don't bother. I'm pretty happy just like this.

Cinnamon-Sugared Sweet Potato Muffins

makes a baker's dozen

1 3/4 c flour

3/4 c whole wheat pastry flour

1 1/2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp baking soda

1/4 tsp cinnamon

1/8 tsp nutmeg

1/8 tsp ground all-spice

1/3 c plain or vanilla yogurt

2/3 c milk

1 medium sweet potato, roasted

1 tsp vanilla

1 stick (8 Tbsp) melted butter, divided (reserve 2 Tbsp)

1/2 c packed brown sugar

2 eggs, lightly beaten

1/4 c sugar

1 tsp cinnamon

pinch nutmeg

Preheat oven to 350degF.

Combine dry ingredients, including spices in a medium bowl.

Combine wet ingredients (all except for 2 Tbsp of the melted butter, reserved) in a large bowl. Fold dry ingredients into wet ingredients until just incorporated without over-mixing batter.

Butter (or cooking spray) muffin tins. Fill each muffin well 3/4 full of batter.

Bake in preheated oven for 20min (12-14 for mini-muffins) until lightly golden and toothpick, inserted, comes out clean. Remove muffins to cool on cooling rack slightly.

Brush each warm muffin top with remaining melted butter. Sprinkle each with cinnamon sugar generously. Serve warm or room temperature.

A Fresh Take

2011-11-09T17:10:00.000-08:00

There is a green leafy veggie that is fully embraced by all ages in our household, no matter how it's prepared.

It's called bok choy.

Or you can call it pak choi, bok choi, or pak choy. Or Chinese cabbage, though that sounds far too broadly applicable.

Maybe it's the high water content and minimal bitterness. It could be the proximity to celery, but sans stringy residua. Or perhaps the "white vegetable"(literally, from the Cantonese word) is just crisp & sweet enough to win us over. I'll give it this: it's pretty versatile- soups, stir fries, steamed, or pan fried with noodles. We don't often go for kimchee, but yes, it's a staple in that, too.

I'd never tried raw bok choy in a salad, though. Call me sheltered.

We'd received a few baby bok choy (though honestly, they looked adolescent to me) in our most recent CSA delivery. And I wasn't in the mood for futzing around with another trial tofu recipe. So I when I saw an idea for a bok choy salad, I thought, "Well, why not?!"

The flavors in this are easily accessible, savory, and easy to locate in most any supermarket. We devoured this post-haste and dug into seconds. If you don't mind trekking to your local Asian Market, you can almost always find fresh, refrigerated (or if not, dried) chow mein Chinese egg noodles.

Mix it up a bit by shredding in some carrot, sprinkling on cilantro, or shaking some grated fresh ginger root or a pressed clove of garlic into the dressing... I honestly don't think you can go wrong here. I particularly enjoy the texture contrast of toasted almonds in this.

I do believe I've found another keeper!

Raw Bok Choy & Noodle Salad

serves 4-5

1/4 c rice wine vinegar

3 Tbsp olive oil

3 Tbsp c vegetable oil

3 Tbsp agave nectar

3 Tbsp soy sauce

3 baby bok choy, thinly sliced

1 red bell pepper, thinly sliced

3 Tbsp toasted almonds

3 Tbsp chopped cilantro (optional)

1 tsp sesame oil

8 oz fresh chinese egg noodles (chow mein or lo mein)

Pour liquid ingredients into a jar. Close lid and shake vigorously to emulsify the vinaigrette.

Toast slivered or sliced almonds in a dry skillet over medium heat until golden and fragrant. Remove toasted almonds to a small bowl. Wipe out skillet once it's cool enough to touch.

Bring a pot of water to a boil.

Meanwhile, thinly slice bok choy and red bell peppers. (Optional: chop cilantro and prep any other desired veggies.) Toss veggies in 1/2 c vinaigrette to coat.

Cook fresh or dried Chinese noodles in boiling water (as per package instructions). Drain.

Heat sesame oil in same skillet over medium heat. Add noodles, tossing to coat in warm oil. Pour several Tbsp of vinaigrette over the noodles and toss.

Remove noodles to serving platter or divide amongst individual plates. Top with tossed, dressed veggies. Sprinkle with toasted almonds (and extra cilantro, if desired). Serve with any remaining vinaigrette on the side.

Rhubarb Highball

2011-11-04T17:00:00.000-07:00

I received an unexpected windfall of rhubarb recently.

It was the end of rhubarb season and a friend was touring me around her restored home, carriage house, and raised bed garden. And there stood a glut of variegated stalks of ruby and green. And so her bounty became a gift to my kitchen. How could I say no?

Thanks, dearest VB.

I'd intended to make some strawberry rhubarb preserves. Maybe I was just a bit tired of canning. Maybe I just needed an excuse to make a new cocktail...

So I did.

There was also one solitary bottle of ginger beer that I'd been hoarding for just the right cocktail. (Had it really been hiding in our fridge since May? Yes, I think so.) Well, LP, you should know that the remainder of your contribution to my man's birthday cookout finally went to good use!

How can rhubarb, lemon, ginger, elderflower, and whisky not be worthy of raising a glass? We thoroughly enjoyed this last taste of summer.

BTW, the rhubarb syrup below can be made in a much larger quantity and used, not only for this cocktail, but also for rhubarb strawberry lemonade, or rhubarb ginger ale... which is exactly what I did. All were exquisitely refreshing!

Rhubarb Highball

serves 4

6 oz whisky

3 oz rhubarb simple syrup

2 oz St Germain (elderflower) liquor

2 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice

1 bottle ginger beer

4 rhubarb sticks for garnish

4 twists of lemon for garnish

To make rhubarb simple syrup: chop 1 rhubarb stalk coarsely. Mix 1/4 c sugar with 1/4 water in a smal saucepan and add rhubarb. Bring to a boil, stir to dissolve sugar, then let sit for at least 1 hour to allow flavors to infuse. Strain through fine mesh to remove solids, pressing on rhubarb to extract flavor & color.

Mix whisky, rhubarb syrup, St Germain, and lemon juice in a shaker over ice. Shake until frosted over.

Pour rhubarb whisky mixture evenly over ice in 4 highball glasses. Top each off with ginger beer. Garnish with rhubarb sticks and lemon twists.

Cheers!

Dark, Dark Chocolate (ethics & cookies)

2011-10-31T08:00:00.000-07:00

I'll share a time-tested, favorite recipe from my collection, snipped from a Bon Appetit magazine back in the day. They're a rich, chewy delight. I've been making these cookies for 11 years; and I have made only 2 important changes. I don't usually make the "giant" size (1/4 cup of batter) referenced in the original title. But the most important change, I think, is using Fair Trade chocolate - both the chocolate chips and the chocolate-toffee bar.

I have mentioned the dark side of this fabulous substance called cocoa a few times before. And right on the heels of National Chocolate Day and on Halloween Day itself (National Candy Day?) it makes sense to revisit the issues.

This isn't just about fair wages. Child kidnapping, trafficking, and enslavement on cocoa farms in West Africa, particularly in Ivory Coast (by far the #1 supplier of cocoa to the world) continues to this day. Absurdly dangerous working conditions without pay for children 12-15 (and often younger!) who have been stolen from their families (or promised legitimate work with money sent home) are real- machetes, no shoes, and pesticides... and no schooling. They are bought (for life) for less than $240 Euros. Documentaries and investigative journalism have demonstrated that African locals know about the daily trafficking practice, including insiders in the chocolate industry and national and international law enforcement. Many chocolatiers simply deny the problem and/or distance themselves from the practices of the farms where their cocoa originates. Convenient, perhaps. And many consumers do the same. Just because we live continents away. What does it have to do with me?

Yes, it is cheaper and more convenient to buy chocolate from Hershey's, Nestle, and the like. But the truth is that we do have a choice. And though all of the chocolate industry players committed in 2001 to make dramatic changes in their practices, becoming slave-free by 2008, some chocolatiers have done better than others at their 2010 check-up. Check out this entire document if you have time, but I'll include the chart (below) showing (through 3rd party certifying boards) which chocolatiers have followed through on their commitment to fairly, humanely sourcing cocoa. The take home: do NOT buy Hershey's as they have made ZERO progress toward proving their ethics. Companies (such as Green & Black) with best practices in chocolate trading are in green.

Do you want to make an informed decision in your chocolate consumption? Don't let the issues themselves or the distance from your door overwhelm you. It might mean that you eat less chocolate and you will certainly pay more for it. But our pocketbooks speak volumes: it takes only a 25% shift in consumer spending to change industry! Ask your grocer to carry Fair Trade chocolate, then buy it when they listen. Check out this resource for a practical, step-wise approach to your chocolate consumption.

And then enjoy a bit of chocolate! Like these cookies...

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

Chocolate-Toffee Cookies

makes 3 dozen medium cookies

1 lb bittersweet or semisweet chocolate (chips or chopped)

1/4 c butter

1/2 c flour

1 tsp baking powder

1/4 tsp salt

1 3/4 c brown sugar

4 eggs

1 Tbsp vanilla

5 oz chocolate toffee bars (such as Green & Black), coarsely chopped

1 c walnuts (optional)

Melt chocolate with butter in a double boiler over simmering water until smooth and incorporated. Cool to lukewarm.

Meanwhile, mix dry ingredients together.

Beat eggs and sugar until thick- 5min. Beat in warm chocolate and vanilla. Stir in dry ingredient mixture, then toffee and nuts (optional). Chill batter for 45 minutes (until firm).

Preheat oven to 350degF. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment. Drop 1 Tbsp scoops of batter onto paper, 1 1/2" apart.

Bake until tops are just starting to crack (13-15 min). Cool briefly, then transfer gently to cooling racks.

Warmth of Fall

2011-10-27T12:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Blog-iversary to me!

Today, I'm celebrating 2 full years of local, seasonal, and ethical cooking & mixology.

Three (or at least two) cheers for Joining in the Feast!

Thanks, friends.

The little guy around my house had been begging for gnocchi for a while, even fondling pre-packaged, non-refrigerated ones at the local corner store. (No, buddy. We can do better than that!) How do you say "gnocchi" again, anyway? We share the love and pronounce it in random ways amongst ourselves.

I've realized that potato gnocchi and I just aren't great friends- in my hands they're on the dense side. I promise to not judge them needlessly and I will give the relationship further thought. In the meantime, there were a few unclaimed sweet potatoes (well, technically yams) in our produce basket, so I thought I'd give the yam variety of tubers another try to see if I could make a manageable dough. I was hoping for a bit lighter-hearted gnocchi di patati companion than the product of Sam Yam's distant cousin, Bud Spud. My prior attempt at yam gnocchi was good, but sticky, requiring piping the dough into the boiling water.

So, round two!

Aren't they beauties?

There is something therapeutic about kneading this dough, rolling it into ropes, slicing, and indenting it with fork tines. Almost meditative. Well, at least when one is doing the prep work in solitude. Which I was not. It was an equally enjoyable mama-son bonding afternoon of rolling sweet potato gnocchi together. They turned out splendidly and will make it into the rotation again!

my little sous chef at work

The fall colors of cheery orange yam with rainbow chard and slices of pecan (a Southern hat tip thrown in!) made us smile. The flavors made us clean our plates.

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Rainbow Chard

serves 4

8 oz sweet potato, roasted

1 egg

2 cloves garlic

1/2 tsp sea salt

1/4 tsp fresh grated nutmeg

3/4 c whole wheat pastry flour

1/4 to 1/2 c white flour

pot of salted water

1 bunch rainbow chard

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 clove garlic, thinly sliced

1/2 tsp minced sage leaves

3 Tbsp butter

1 Tbsp slivered sage leaves

1/4 c chopped pecans

1 tsp sea salt

Smash peeled, roasted yam in a bowl. Blend in an egg, then garlic, salt, nutmeg, and most of the flours. After kneading, if dough is soft, pliable, and not too sticky, let it rest. If it is too sticky, add a bit more flour and knead again.

Bring a pot of salted water to boil. Meanwhile, stem chard. Mince stems and chop leaves coarsely. Blanch the chard leaves in the water, removing with a slotted spoon to drain. Keep water boiling for gnocchi.

Pull off portions of the dough and roll each into a rope. Cut into 1" pieces, then roll or dust each in flour. Press fork tines into one side, rolling it off to gently mark the dumpling.

Boil 1 dozen gnocchi at a time in the chard-infused water. After 1-2 minutes, the gnocchi will rise from the bottom of the pot to the surface. Remove floating gnocchi to a towel to drain. Repeat until all dumplings have been boiled.

Heat oil in a skillet on medium heat. Cook garlic and a pinch of minced sage leaves until fragrant, but not yet golden. Add minced chard stems and stir until softened. Set aside.

Add damp-dry chard leaves to the same skillet. Toss until well coated with residual oil and softened. Set aside.

Wipe out skillet. Add butter and heat until foam subsides on medium heat and butter begins to turn slightly golden. Add gnocchi to skillet and cook on one side until golden. Add sage leaves and pecan slices. Toss and cook until sage and pecans are crisp and gnocchi is evenly cooked- golden on the suface, hot in the center.

Plate a bed of chard, topped with seasoned chard stem, then gnocchi with sage & pecans. Enjoy hot!

And keep up the feasting with thankful hearts, wherever you are.

Banana

2011-10-23T22:30:00.000-07:00

There is something comforting about bananas. Especially when they're baked into carbaliciousness.

This is creation falls somewhere between a light, moist banana bread and a banana cake. Roasting the bananas gives a more potent natural sweetness by caramelizing the sugars in the fruit. Browned butter provides some nutty undertones. This bread/cake would be fabulous plain or with a handful of chocolate chips thrown into the batter. Or just as wonderful baked with a crumb topping in a loaf pan (note: longer baking time!) or in a rectangular pan, cooled, then frosted with a cream cheese frosting and a sprinkling of walnuts.

OR, if you happen to be slated as a guest in your child's preK classroom, expected to arrive and do something interesting, engaging, and possibly tasty with the kids...

Well. You could show up with this cake for a fun edible craft. You could let the 4 year olds use their hands to smush up 3/4 of the cake with a bit of softened cream cheese and butter, then shape balls and mold them into little mice (yes MICE!). You could use 1/4 of the cake to toast cake crumbs for fur. You could roll the little smashed-cake mice in melted chocolate, toss in cake-crumb fur, then press in pepita seed ears, toasted rice eyes and nose, and stick in a licorice whip tail. IF you were so inspired.

Hee hee.

Making chocolate-banana cake mice was fun। But you can just have comfort if you'd rather not smash up a cake with your hands. (But, admit it. You secretly want to.)

And remember, October is Fair Trade Month! So, buy your bananas and chocolate fair trade. So that everyone can feel good about you eating them, including children & adults involved in the growth, harvest, and sale. Yes, it's more expensive. Yes, you might have to ASK your grocer to start carrying them or buy them less frequently elsewhere (Whole Foods or a co-op). It's worth it. Want more info? Go here.
Roasted Banana Cake
serves 12

3 bananas, roasted
2 tsp lemon juice
3/4 c butter, browned
1 c brown sugar
3 large eggs
2 tsp vanilla
1 c whole wheat pastry flour
2 c white (bread) flour
3/4 tsp baking soda
3/2 tsp baking powder
pinch salt
pinch fresh grated nutmeg
1 1/4 c buttermilk

Roast bananas for 20min at 400degF, with skin on. Once cool enough to handle safely, remove banana flesh to a mixing bowl and top with lemon juice. Reduce oven heat to 325.

Brown 3/4 c butter in a स्किल्लेट. Add brown sugar and stir until melted into butter. Add to mixing bowl with bananas. Allow to cool briefly. Add eggs and vanilla and beat well.

Mix dry ingredients together (flours through nutmeg). Alternate adding dry ingredients and buttermilk to the batter.

Bake in a buttered 9x13" pan at 325 for approximately 30min or until barely golden and toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

Absinthe Spins a Pirouette

2011-10-21T17:00:00.000-07:00

Ever since I made cold-brew (infused) absinthe, I have made certain to my eye open for excuses to use well-rationed amounts in new cocktail creations.

My go-to absinthe usage has become a tablespoonful in the bottom of a flute, topped with the remainders of a bottle of bubbly, creating a "Death in the Afternoon." Channeling Hemingway, the famous consumer of this beverage, is, of course, a dangerous proposition. But mixing absinthe and sparkling wine is absolutely, madly brilliant and prosaical.

I'm not exactly tiring of serving mimosas at brunch, but I had been thinking it'd be nice to mix things up a bit. But we were still serving brunch. In the morning. Death in the Afternoon seemed too... well, too late-ish. So when I saw a recipe for a Mirabelle cocktail on Food & Wine's website using mirabelle plum puree and pernod, I had inspiration for a complex, sweet brunch libation worthy of my last 1/2 c of absinthe. Not to mention, it's pluot season! Time to spin some enduring liquid prose?

So it was.

Cheers!

Pirouette

serves 6

3 plums or pluots

4 oz Pernod (absinthe)

1 bottle Prosecco

Slice plums/pluots, reserve 6 thin slices for garnish. Freeze garnish while preparing remainder of beverage.

Puree plums in a blender. Just before serving, add absinthe and 1 c Prosecco to plum puree. Stir gently.

Strain roughly 1/4c of puree mixture into each of 6 flutes. Top each with Prosecco and garnish with frozen plum slice. Spin a little pirouette as you sip!

Serendipity

2011-10-20T22:34:00.000-07:00

Serendipity n. [ser-uhn-dip-i-tee] an aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident.

I won't claim an aptitude here, but sometimes inspiration comes at the darnedest times. I, for one, would not have anticipated much culinary inspiration occurring yesterday while standing at the preK bake sale table (shout out for La Venta!). Typical offerings lay before me, cada por un dolar: tubes of squeezable yogurt, cookies, slices of blueberry bread, granola bars, and the like. This time a health-conscious mom (undoubtedly dealing with a seasonal, perhaps unmanageable, influx of kale like myself) had made baggies of kale chips to sell.

It wasn't exactly the baggies of kale chips that were serendipitous. It was the mistake several children at the school made. Moments after purchasing and tearing excitedly into their bag of olive oiled and salted greens, they returned them to me with upturned noses, requesting a refund. They thought the kale chips were NORI wafers. Perhaps toasted nori chips are not a widespread phenomenon, but here they're a healthy, popular snack- a vitamin-charged seaweed chip enjoyed by adults & kids of all cultures. I thought that the kale/nori confusion was interesting (sea -versus- land greens!) and apparently the dichotomy just sat there in my subconscious...

Fast forward 24 hours.

I had tofu in my fridge. I've been working on some new takes on tofu, none ready to be aired quite yet. And the vague plan for a tofu dinner somehow collided with the kale-vs-seaweed confusion during my dinner musings this afternoon to yield a glorious, serendipitous "sushi" dinner. One I'm more than a little proud of because, as far as I know, I've invented something entirely without outside influence or inspiration. I have yet to do my research on this idea however, so please do enlighten me as to where you may have enjoyed something of this sort already!

note: this is not a sushi knife, but it was my sharpest blade!

For lack of a more descriptive name, I'll call them... fall harvest "sushi" rolls. Tofu with soy marinade and vinegar-seasoned sushi rice are true to Japanese cuisine and (I think) allow me to claim the sushi roll category. But the other flavors are all fall- apple, beet, kale, and leeks. And it works. We will be eating variations on this again! (Confession- the inclusion of beets yielded whines from the short ones here, but otherwise clean plates.)

The prep does take some effort, but each step is straight-forward and rapid-fire. This recipe should be quite easily customizable- add/subtract veggies as you wish, even local seafood in season (Dungeness crab, anyone?). Aim for a variety of textures and flavors for the best results. And if you're a more talented sushi-roller than I, well, your rolls will be more precise and beautiful!

Harvest "Sushi" Rolls

serves 4 to 6

6 oz firm tofu

2 Tbsp soy sauce

1 tsp Dijon mustard

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 1/2 c sushi rice

2 c water (or per bag instructions)

1/3 c apple cider vinegar

1/4 c sugar

2 tsp salt

8 large kale leaves (I had dino kale, others should work)

pot of salted water

2 leeks, white and light green portions thinly sliced

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 tsp salt

1 Granny Smith apple

2 small roasted beets

Wrap tofu in a towel and press out excess moisture for at least 20min. Slice tofu. Whisk soy sauce and mustard together and toss tofu in this marinade. Pour 1 Tbsp of olive oil into a skillet over medium-high heat. Fry tofu until golden brown, then remove from heat, reserving pan.

Boil/steam rice according to package instructions. Meanwhile prep other ingredients.

For sushi rice flavoring, bring vinegar, sugar, and salt to a boil in a small saucepan, stirring to dissolve. Once rice is completely cooked and has been off the heat for 5min, stir in the vinegar with a rice paddle to incorporate, then cover.

Bring a pot of generously salted water to a boil. Meanwhile, remove the majority of (the thickest portions of) kale stems and rinse leaves. Boil leaves for 3-4min until tender and bright green. Gently remove kale from hot water and press in a towel to remove excess moisture.

Using same skillet above, add another 2 Tbsp of olive oil over medium heat. Add thinly sliced leeks and 1 tsp salt. Fry until dark golden brown and crisp. Remove from heat and set aside.

Thinly slice roasted beet and raw apple into slightly bigger than matchstick strips, setting each ingredient aside separately.

Prepare a rolling work area with each ingredient ready, a clean work surface, a cutting board, a sharp knife, a small bowl of water (to dip fingers in), a towel and a sushi-rolling mat.

Place 1 kale leaf across rolling mat, intact/top end to the right. Overlap and/or fold split thinner ends of kale toward the center. Scoop 2-3 Tbsp of seasoned rice onto right border and center of the kale leaf and press flat with wet fingers. Lay tofu, apple & beet strips, and a sprinkling of fried leeks on top of the rice. Gently, but snugly roll the leaf and contents to the left, squeezing with the rolling mat to compress the sushi roll. Use the knife to slice 1" pieces of the roll, wetting and wiping the knife clean as needed.

Repeat process with remaining ingredients, cleaning knife frequently. Serve at room temperature.

If desired, a dipping sauce can be made by reducing 1/3 c apple cider vinegar with 1 Tbsp sugar and 1 tsp salt to approximately 1/4 c total volume. Serve in small dipping dishes alongside the sushi rolls.

Catcus Rose Cocktail

2011-10-14T17:00:00.000-07:00

I have a love/hate relationship with prickly pear cactus fruit.

They're simply gorgeous when ripe- the magenta flesh's color practically bleeds through the green skin, and cute fuzzy, tan polka dots are scattered around, just begging you to pick it up, try it.

As a girl of (approximately) six years, I was so lured by the siren song of the prickly pear in a Texas grocery store, that I scooped one up. And as my mother purposefully traced her way through the produce section, I meandered along behind, tossing the little treasure gently from hand to hand. Back and forth, round and round went the little opuntia fruit. When onward toward the bread aisle we went (yes, I can picture this), I gently laid the opuntia in it's rightful bin. And began to wonder why my palms didn't feel right. They felt... injured. And, upon close examination, I discovered billions of (yes) prickles in my palm flesh. And I burst into tears.

They don't call 'em prickly pears for nothing.

I hadn't touched an opuntia for nearly thirty years until a dear friend, ex-Texan, and fellow amateur mixologist introduced me to a cocktail she'd been perfecting. I gingerly handed her the fruit and watched with amazement. And found myself enamored yet again. Thanks, dearest REP, and happy birthday!

So here I am, singing the siren song-

*Buy a prickly pear!*

*Try this out!*

*Oh, the color is simply stunning!*

(and it won't hurt you one bit, my dear)

Cactus Flower Cocktail

serves 4

2 ripe prickly pear cactus fruits (nopales or opuntia), with flowers attached, if possible

8 oz 100% agave tequila blanca
1 oz agave nectar
4 oz fresh lime juice

2 lime rounds

Peel prickly pear fruits. Reserve flowers, if possible, for garnish. If not, lime rounds will have to suffice.

Cut one fruit into 1/4" cubes. Slice 4 thin rounds off of the 2nd fruit, then cut the remainder in 1/4" dice.

Place diced fruit into a cocktail shaker. Muddle gently to release juices. Pour tequila, agave, and lime juice over the muddled fruit. Add ice. Agitate until cocktail shaker ices over or your arms give out.

Place thin rounds of opuntia (and cactus flower) into one of each of 4 chilled martini glasses. Strain cocktail into each glass. Serve immediately.

Salud!

Ha! HAH HA! Aha.

2011-10-12T18:52:00.000-07:00

The odd title of this post is an illusion to a song that has become a family favorite. You have to listen until the end to appreciate the Ha's and laugh along with us. It's worth it, taking the time to listen to this Mountain Goats' alpha series classic- bitter, dark, and filled with wry humor. Not that we're, uh... fixated. Hah!

Anyway, this song's epilogue is exactly what went through my triumphant mind as I served this dish to my children who, just as they classically react to MG songs, a) couldn't get enough and b) had absolutely no clue what was truly going on.

2 words: beet greens

I waited until all were satisfied (with third helpings, mind you) before I broke it to them.

HA! Ha hah! Aha! HAHAHAHA! Ha.

Yes, I have triumphed. Beet green pasta ROCKS.

I feel all the more satisfaction in that I'm using a portion of the beet that might otherwise become compost. How utterly Italian of me- utilize every portion of a plant or animal that nothing might go to waste. Speaking of, my favorite Italian chef (bon giorno, RHP) noted all of the tomato skins sitting in a soggy, forlorn pile as I made a batch of my tomato basil marinara and suggested slowly dehydrating them in a warm oven (250degF for about 70min). I pulsed the tomato skins with softened butter and salt to make tomato butter. And THAT is what adorned our beet green fetuccini tonight. A reclaimed dinner of champions (read: efficient, parsimonious chefs).

So here's what you do with all those otherwise forsaken beet greens... use or borrow a pasta maker and serve with pride!

Beet Green Fetuccini

serves 4 - 1 lb pasta

8 oz beet greens, de-stemmed

2 eggs

zest of 1/2 a lemon

juice of 1/4 lemon

2 tsp olive oil

1/4 tsp salt

1 c white flour

1 c wheat flour

Bring a large pot of salted water to boil. Cook beet greens until bright green and tender - approximately 2 minutes. Remove greens from water e tongs to a towel and press out the majority of the moisture. Turn heat off, but keep nutrient-rich water for boiling the pasta.

Place greens, eggs, lemon zest and juice, and olive oil in a food processor with chopping blade. Process until pureed well. Change blade to dough/mix attachment. Add salt and flours and pulse until dough becomes a cohesive mass and begins to pull away from the sides. Add up to 3/4 c more flour until dough is no longer wet, though it may be slightly sticky still.

Allow dough to rest for 20min, covered.

Use dough flattener to serially thin sheets of pasta, flouring generously if needed. Use fettucini cutter (or a knife) to make fettucini. This dough is very tender and I found that my Kitchen Aid's 5 setting yielded perfect thinness.

Bring salted water back to a boil, adding a splash of olive oil if desired. Cook pasta to al dente (4-5min). Strain, spray with cool water, shake off excess, then return to pot. Add butter, olive oil, cheese, and/or sauce as desired. Toss gently with tongs and serve hot.

See, I'm perfectly aware of where our love stands but the plain fact is...

Well. Isn't that just a beautiful green above? (Listen to the song for real facts.)

Miniature Fall Goodness

2011-10-10T20:53:00.000-07:00

Autumn has fallen upon us.

Which, for those of us along the mid-West coast and Northwest coast, means days of glorious sunshine and hints of warmth, mixed erratically with rainfall. Today was entirely the latter here in San Francisco. So cranking up the oven for a batch of mini-muffins (some hungry preK students will be wanting a snack tomorrow morning, after all!) seemed like a nice blend between cozy and productive for my evening.

We had been to wine country recently and those too young to legally taste had done a bit (well, actually an embarrassingly greedy amount) of apple picking from the trees and grounds adjacent to the tasting area. Weeks later, we're still working our way through some beautiful little Golden Delicious and either Fuji or Gala apples. I'm not an apple varietal expert, but feel free to enlighten me if you are!

This recipe is homespun - my own mix between multigrain muffins from Moosewood and 101 cookbook's unfussy apple cake... and a few ideas (or is it ideals?) of my own.

These little bites of fall are satisfyingly hearty through and through- coarse cornmeal gives a nice crunch. Almond milk and whole wheat flour bring some nuttiness to the mix. Generous bits of apple make the texture interesting, like surprising polkadots of applesauce. I think what sparks the flavor into life, the taste equivalent of technicolor of fall leaves, is fresh-ground cinnamon. Pull out a spice grinder or mortar and pestle... or even your blender. The extra step and noise of pulverizing cinnamon stick will be worth it! I cut the sugar content of the batter and sprinkled a bit of coarse demerara sugar on top to make them all the more tantalizing.

One word of warning- these stick maddeningly well to paper muffin tin liners, so just grease your tins and do without!

Hearty Cinnamon Apple Mini-Muffins

makes 3 1/2 dozen mini muffins

(or 2 dozen regular-sized ones)

1 1/2 c small-diced fall apples

1/4 c brown sugar

1/4 c coarse-grind cornmeal

1 c white flour

3/4 c whole wheat pastry flour

1/4 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

1 tsp of freshly ground cinnamon

1 large egg (or 2 bantam-sized eggs, in our case!)

1/4 melted butter

1 Tbsp apple cider vinegar

1 scant cup almond (or other) milk

Preheat oven to 400degF.

Mix together the dry ingredients in a medium bowl. Toss the apple bits with the dry ingredients. (This prevents them from sinking to the bottom of each muffin.)

Lightly beat the egg. Mix egg with liquid ingredients in a small bowl, including melted butter.

Fold liquid mixture into dry ingredients until just blended. Scoop into muffin tins (nearly full). Sprinkle each with coarse sugar. Bake for 12-15 min until golden brown and a toothpick inserted into a center comes out clean.

Enjoy with a cup of coffee, mug of cider, spot of tea, or even a little dixie cup of apple juice. Depending on just how young or cozy you need to feel on this fall day!

Would a Beet of Any Color... ?

2011-10-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

My children don't hold beets in particularly high regard. One might think that the beet offers many desirable characteristics from a child's standpoint: the unique, deep magenta color; the sweetness; the STAIN potential...

But alas. Not in my home.

And our gene pool (both my husband and I particularly enjoy beets) didn't seem to lend a hand in the matter.

So I wondered, what would these offspring of mine think of golden beets?

And you may be wondering why I would even bother trying.

Well, almost 2 years ago I started this cooking blog experiment, inspired largely by friends' incessant requests for my recipes and by our new membership with Farm Fresh to You. The influx of fruits and veggies I'd perhaps eaten, but often never cooked was great inspiration and challenge for me. Persimmons? Dino kale? Padron peppers? Rainbow chard? Our palates have grown, along with my creativity and the family's collective intake of dense nutrients.

I continue to support farmers in our area through bi-weekly deliveries from this CSA (community sponsored agriculture) program and by shopping at our city's biggest farmer's market. We enjoy eating seasonally and locally for our own health and for the health of our planet (demanding less fossil fuel for shipping produce from Central & South America, encouraging heritage strains of produce, and supporting farmers who respect their land and their workers). Think about finding a CSA in your area! The oranges, beets, and green beans above were from my Capay Valley CSA farmer friends!

But back to the golden beets... and those cherubic beings with beet derision.

I'm not into lying or hiding veggies in brownies (an injustice to both the dessert and the vegetable, in my opinion). However, I'm not necessarily forthcoming when discussing ingredients with suspicious consumers. I might find alternative titles for say, risotto ("creamy pasta-like dish," anyone?), or any other concoction they hold in great disregard. But this time, I was straight-up honest as I unwrapped layers of foil and parchment to check on the golden beet roasting progress.

"What are those?"

"Beets."

"No, they're NOT." (says our all-knowing 6 year old) "They're not red."

"Well, they're golden beets."

(with great disappointment and a hint of disdain) "Ohhh."

"I'm putting them in a salad with green beans, oranges, basil, and some other yummy things."

(pause)

"But they're beets."

I can't say that the kiddos enjoyed the golden beet component of this salad, but since they like the other ingredients, the meal proceeded with minimal disgruntlement and respectable beet intake. The adult population was a bit more enthusiastic about the colors and flavors. And I must underscore that my fingertips are not still distinctly magenta-stained hours after dinner. (And that's a good thing.)

The colors really are stunning, don't you think?

Here's to local, seasonal fare!

Golden Beet Salad

serves 6 as a side

3 medium golden beets

3 Tbsp olive oil

1/2 lb green beans

3 oranges

1 shallot, minced

salt & pepper to taste

1 small head of radicchio

4 oz chevre

8 basil leaves, thinly sliced

2 Tbsp toasted pine nuts

Trim root tips and stems off of beets. Reserve beet greens for another use. Place trimmed beets on foil lined with parchment. Drizzle with 1 Tbsp of olive oil and seal parchment, then foil shut. Roast at 425degF for 40min (or until tender when pricked with a knife tip). Remove from oven. Cool. Open packet and drizzle beet juices and oil into a small, empty jar. Slip or peel skins from beets, then chop into 1/2" cubes. Toast pine nuts in oven as it cools.

While beets roast, blanch green beans in boiling, salted water until crisp-tender. Quickly drain and run under cold water.

Over a bowl, section or slice 2 1/2 oranges and remove peel and pith. Set orange sections aside. Add fresh juices into the jar with beet oil. Squeeze remaining 1/2 orange's juice into the jar as well. Add salt and pepper to taste, beet oil and juices, minced shallot, as well as remaining 2 Tbsp of olive oil to the jar. Whisk or shake orange dressing vigorously in lidded jar to combine.

Slice radicchio thinly. Combine with cooled green beans, chopped beets, and orange sections. Sprinkle with basil, crumbled chevre, and pine nuts. Drizzle with orange dressing. Toss and serve.

Saturday Scoops - Chai Ice Cream

2011-10-01T10:00:00.000-07:00

For this month's Saturday Scoops, I will share (actually repost) a recipe that am particularly fond of: Chai Ice Cream.

I revel in sweetness married to spice. In that culinary vein, I have long enjoyed honest-to-goodness chai beverages (and, to be completely honest and even risk mockery, I'll admit that I kinda like the boxed chai tea concentrates). Sorry to disillusion you a little there.

At any rate, this creamy, spicy, sweet concept isn't a stretch. And it's an excellent way to end an Indian meal. I particularly like chai ice cream drizzled with salted caramel. But, really, salted caramel by the spoonful is a completely legit dessert, too. You can enjoy it without shame. It just gets awkward passing the jar around amongst the dinner guests. So here's a fabulous delivery unit for the sauce!

served here with coconut macaroons and salted caramel sauce

Chai Ice Cream
makes 1 quart

10 whole cloves
10 whole allspice
2 cinnamon sticks
10 whole white peppercorns
3 cardamom pods, opened
1/4 c full-bodied black tea leaves

1 c of milk
2 c heavy cream, divided
3/4 c sugar
pinch of salt
6 egg yolks

Heat 1 c milk, 1 c cream and the chai spices - star anise, cloves, allspice, cinnamon sticks, white peppercorns, and cardamom pods, and a pinch of salt until barely simmering (not boiling). Lower the heat to warm, cover, and let stand for 1 hour+.

Reheat the mixture until barely simmering again, then remove from heat. Add the black tea leaves, stir, and let seep for 15 minutes.

Use a fine mesh strainer to strain out the tea and spices, pouring the infused milk cream mixture into a separate bowl. Return the milk cream mixture back to the heavy bottomed saucepan. Add the sugar to the milk cream mixture and heat, stirring, until the sugar is fully dissolved.
While the tea is infusing in step 2, prepare the remaining 1 cup of cream over an ice bath. Pour the cream into a medium size metal bowl, set in ice water (with lots of ice) over a larger bowl. Set a mesh strainer on top of the bowls. Set aside.

Whisk the egg yolks in a medium sized bowl. Slowly pour the heated milk cream mixture into the egg yolks, whisking constantly so that the egg yolks are tempered by the warm mixture, but not cooked by it. Scrape the warmed egg yolks back into the saucepan.

Return the saucepan to the stove, stirring the mixture constantly over medium heat with a wooden spoon. Scrape the bottom as you stir for about 10min until the mixture thickens and coats the spoon such that a finger, drawn across, leaves a distinct line.

Immediately remove from heat, and pour custard through the sieve over the ice bath to stop the cooking. Stir hot, strained custard into the cold cream to stop the cooking.

Chill thoroughly, at least several hours, then process in an ice cream maker according to instructions.

Ratatouille

2011-09-25T14:00:00.000-07:00

Some of my recipes are quick, week-night recipes. Sometimes I make dishes with 5 ingredients or less. And some of my cooking is particularly accessible to pickier palates.

This is NOT one of those recipes.

But neither is it a ridiculous day-long event. I would argue that it is much easier than it appears. And it IS a beautiful presentation (and yes, that's what I'm trying to get my children to say when they can't think of anything else positive to say about a meal). It's French home-cooking meets a bit of fancy haute cuisine. If you're not sold yet, I've got the clincher here: it has chevre inside. There. I knew you'd be interested!

I saw this recipe on epicurious.com and couldn't resist tackling it (with some simplification). Between my recent late-summer CSA delivery and my herb garden, I had everything on hand. And, well, because we love the movie Ratatouille. I did commit the grave error of letting my offspring watch the relevant scene from this Disney movie while I finished plating our dinner. They were somewhat disappointed that there was no clear semblance to the cartooned glory. Well, live and learn.

I served this with polenta. I took the same cookie cutter to the cooled and congealed polenta to create an additional layer for the leftoer Napoleons. The result was quite fantastic. Just another idea for you...

Ratatouille Napoleons

serves 4 as entree, 6 as appetizer

3 Tbsp olive oil
1 small red onion, small diced
2 garlic cloves, pressed
1 c diced eggplant
1 c diced zucchini
1 c diced yellow squash
1/2 c diced sweet bell pepper
1/2 c diced green bell pepper
scant 1/2 cup tomato puree or sauce (I use this)
3 Tbsp minced fresh basil
1 Tbsp minced fresh rosemary
1/2 Tbsp minced fresh thyme
1/2 Tbsp minced fresh oregano

12 oz chevre
8 oz mixed baby greens (mesclun or arugula)
1/4 c vinaigrette

Cut eggplant, zucchini, yellow squash, and bell peppers into 1/4-inch dice. In a large heavy skillet cook onion and garlic in olive oil over moderate heat until softened and fragrant. Add the remaining diced veggies and cook until crisp-tender, roughly 5 minutes. Stir in tomato purée, garlic, herbs, and salt and pepper to taste and cool ratatouille completely.

Preheat oven to 375°F and line a baking tray with parchment paper.

On a work surface put a metal pastry ring or round cookie cutter (at least 1 1/2" high) on parchment. Fill cutter with ratatouille, pressing evenly and tightly into bottom. Slice goat cheese log into 8 equal rounds and flatten one onto a ratatouille round. Top with more ratatouille in ring.

Carefully press on filling while lifting ring, leaving a layered tower of ratattouille. Make more rounds in same manner. Bake rounds in middle of oven for 10 minutes, or until heated through.

While rounds are baking, in a large bowl toss baby greens with a light vinaigrette and divide among 8 plates.

With a spatula transfer a round to center of each salad or along side the salad. Drizzle each salad with about 1 teaspoon vinaigrette and garnish with pine nuts.

Basiled Whisky Sour

2011-09-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

I like fresh-squeezed juice. Of course.
And I like basil. A lot.

And there's just something sweet and reminiscent about a whisky or amaretto sour. And not because of the cherry. (Well, just a little bit because of the cherry.)

I have a surplus of lemon basil syrup. Which is a GREAT way to use up extra basil and keep the flavor of summer lingering in your beverage glasses, by the way. And you can make this (find the syrup recipe here, too) or this, with this flavored syrup... and basiled lemonade as well.

I had a hankering for some type of sour beverage. Perfectly sour, mind you, not syrupy sweet.

And there was this very good whisky sitting around. (Shhh! Don't tell that I used a bit for a cocktail!)

All of this collided to make a very, very nice, summery and fresh whisky sour with a hint of basil.

Try it!

If you like things a little on the sweeter side, add closer to 1/3 c syrup. I think you'll agree that this is quite nice. Even without the cherry. Though I won't judge if you throw one in for good measure.

Basiled Whisky Sour

serves 2

3 oz whisky

1/4 c lemon juice

1/4 c lime juice

1/3 c lemon basil syrup

lemon slice and basil (and a cherry) for garnish

Combine whisky with freshly squeezed juices and syrup. Pour over generous quantities of ice. Garnish with lemon slice, basil sprig, and (if you must) a cherry.

Drink responsibly.

Late Summer (seasonal affective disorder) Soup

2011-09-14T17:30:00.000-07:00

We're still enjoying this squash salad greatly. I've probably made it for you and all of your friends (or at least waxed eloquent about it to you) by now. But in order to use up all of the summer squash our CSA bestows upon us, I have to, on occasion, resort to hiding squash in things. Other than the compost bin. (snicker)

I had some chickpeas and garlic on hand and (of course) some squash. And it occurred to me that hummus is a boldly flavored, generally well-liked dish. With flavor and color that just might be able to conceal yellow squash. Hmmm.

And it was a foggy and cold afternoon. (I know, I know. You quit complaining about your 100-degree+ summer days wherever you are and then I'll quit whining about having to wear a sweater, eat soup, and light fires in our fireplace in AUGUST.)

Seasonal affective disorder hits at an odd time of year here in San Francisco.

Anyway.

As I was saying, it was cold enough for a nice hot soup for dinner. So, on a whim, I invented hummus soup with those chickpeas. And I hid some diced summer squash in it. The steamy bowls of soup hit the spot, warmed our bellies nicely, and didn't attract attention to the stowaway veggie inside. Should you (in your normally-weather patterned neck of the woods) have some end of summer squash available on a newly chilled fall evening, I commend this recipe to you.

Our soup was sopped up with some fabulous crusty bread that a friend brought to us from Napa. A friend who is now so obsessed (thanks to her week-long permaculture course in Napa) with gardening that I predict she'll be clandestinely dropping bags of squash on our doorstep in no time. We may have to move. Just kidding, LP!

Hummus Soup

served with salad & bread, feeds 4

2 Tbsp olive oil

3 cloves garlic, minced or pressed

1/2 yellow onion, diced

1/2 to 1 whole jalapeno chile (to taste), minced

1 yellow squash, minced

1 can chickpeas, drained

3 c vegetable broth

1 Tbsp tahini

1/4 chopped cilantro leaves & stems

zest of lemon

juice of 1/2 of same lemon

salt & pepper to taste

Heat olive oil in medium pot over medium-hi heat. Add garlic and onion. Saute until soft. Add jalapeno and saute until onion is golden.

Add squash and chickpeas and cook until squash is softened and looks remarkably onion-like.

Add vegetable broth and bring to a simmer. Stir in tahini. Once soup thickens slightly, add cilantro and zest. Immediately before serving add lemon juice and salt & pepper to taste.

Serve with pita (or other bread) and a green salad for a filling, vegetarian meal.

Worth the Wait

2011-09-13T21:38:00.000-07:00

The Arepas Lady of NYC came to the SF Street Food Fest last month. I saw her working hard with 2 assistants, smacking and flipping her batter onto a hot, portable (and not quite big enough) griddle over and over. I waited over an hour in 2 lines to get one of her corn cakes. I waited with two young children in tow. The promise of oozing, corn perfection, some people watching, and a few rub-on Hello Kitty tattoos strung the little ones along pretty well. (Tell the truth. You'd do it for the Hello Kitty tattoo, too.)

And I must tell you, it was well worth the wait. Arepa nirvana.

In fact, I do believe it was the best thing I ate all day. And that's high praise, 'cause the food at that festival was all fantastic- some of SF's best. Though no other line was quite so long. Apparently her reputation preceded her.

I had only recently become acquainted with arepas. This cute little cafe in the Mission (with great microbrews, no less!) had caught my eye, but it was a dear friend who perused their online menu and had me join her there for lunch. (Thanks, KFW!) We were pretty floored. Much ooh-ing and aah-ing and promises of "we will learn to make these" later, we left, stuffed.

The time had come. I found the cooked-corn flour, masarepa, and planned the cooking date. I did some arepas research. Starting with the Sainted Arepa Lady's own recipe (follow link above to the recipe, if you want), which I tweaked quite a bit after looking at a few others' takes on the corn cakes. It seems that some latinas use milk, some don't; some cook their arepas, slice a pocket into them and add fillings as desired; others top their arepas with no stuffing or pocket-making involved. No matter your take on arepas, these things are absolutely amazing. And a very do-able weeknight dinner.

Corn Kernel Arepas

serves 6

scant 2 c milk

1 1/2 c fresh corn kernels, cut off 3 ears corn

2 Tbsp butter (plus more for griddle)

2 c masarepa flour*

1/2 tsp salt, or to taste

1/2 c shredded mozzarella cheese

1 c crumbled queso fresco

*Masarepa flour is not the same as masa (corn flour/dough for tamales). You'll need this precooked, then dried & ground cornmeal. Many tiendas latinas carry masarepa.

Bring corn kernels, milk, and butter to a simmer in a sauce pan. Remove from heat.

Slowly pour still-hot milk and corn into the masarepa, stirring until the dough is cool enough to handle. Use hands to knead dough, adding mozzarella and salt. Work dough until smooth and thoroughly mixed. Add a sprinkling of additional masarepa if dough is particularly sticky. Allow to rest for a few moments.

Shape arepas by scooping out 1/4 c amounts and rolling or patting into balls. Flatten each with palms, rounding edges into 4" diameter discs.

Melt a small pat of butter on griddle or in skillet. Cook in batches until golden brown- approximately 4 min for each side.

Serve topped with queso fresco.

We enjoy arepas served with frijoles, pickled veggies or vinegar-based slaw, and avocado slices.

Gras

2011-09-12T12:00:00.000-07:00

Foie gras.

Until quite recently, it's something I had ambivalent feelings about, but no personal experience.

Then it was brought into my kitchen. I suppose I had always intended to try it once, possibly to cook it myself. Just a little bit of it, and just once. For the experience. But when I stared down upon the plated, perfectly fried slices of liver, the gravity of the goose struck me. With approximately the same profundity as the fat hitting my arteries.

Foie gras is the epitome of luxury, richness, and gastronomic glory. And perhaps soon it will be gone. June of 2012 is the deadline for California's planned phase-out of production and sale of this organ meat. In fact, all but 5 European countries, some of the Middle East, and a few of our own 50 states have banned production of foie gras to prevent cruelty to animals. The French defend it as an indelible, protected mark of their cuisine, a delicacy never to be relinquished.

So, are these geese and ducks painfully, unnaturally force fed simply to create buttery livers? It seems so. Otherwise healthy fowl who can feed themselves independently have a pipe or tube of some sort regularly inserted into their throats to infuse an emulsion of fat and corn. Would these same birds naturally gorge themselves? Likely not, at least not to the degree required to produce true foie gras. Are these birds well cared for? I suppose so, as any expensive commodity is cared for, but their nutrition and habitat are artificially, likely cruelly, distorted.

Omnivores, in an ideal world, would care about the meat they ate, not just for the self-referential quality of what they consume, but for the ethic of how the animal was raised, even how the associated farm or ranch is run. My outlook on life is that we humans are in a unique role- a place of power over other living things to either consume recklessly and carelessly, or to live sustainably, generously, and thoughtfully. To even, perhaps, leave things better than we found them.

One wide swing of the diet pendulum flees carnivorous excess in favor of a vegan life- one that in no way consumes or exploits animals for their meat or their products. But somewhere between foie gras-eating epicureans and austere vegans there live a spectrum of eaters of more-or-less meat. I do not offer a prescription of what, when, and how is the right way to eat. But I do suggest thoughtfully considering these things. For health, for posterity, for a world which we would be absurdly egotistical to think exists just for our own pleasure.

My own experience attempting to raise free-range chickens for eggs- confronting 2 unexpected roosters (one became coq au vin and one was returned to its family of origin), loss to raccoons, threat of disease, and various other aspects of care for a group of relatively defenseless and dependent creatures has opened my eyes to more of the ethics (and expense) of eating off-the-land than I'd anticipated. Buying one eighth of a local steer and one third of a local lamb, getting to know the rancher and butcher involved, and becoming more intimately connected to our food source has only deepened these times of consideration of what respect, care, and sustainability look like for an omnivore.

I would love to hear the influences that have led each of you to your chosen diet!

And as for foie gras?

I think it is produced at a cost my soul could not bear again.

Peachey

2011-09-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

I love peaches.

They take me back to my childhood. To a peach tree in our backyard in Gulf Coast Texas, and to visits to deep-South family in Alabama and Georgia with equally freshly picked peaches at the ready. Back to peach smoothies, peach cobbler, peach juice dripping down my chin as I bit into that perfectly ripe orb of fuzzy fruit.

Yes, I do love peaches.

As peach season winds down, I bring you a peach purist dessert. Only biting into a fresh tree-ripe peach would be simpler. This is a celebration of peaches, swathed in a gorgeous pink syrup. I like to leave the skin on in order to add to the blush of pink in the syrup.

Wine-poaching peaches, then topping with a bit of whipped cream and amaretti cookie crumbles is brilliant in its simplicity. Simply summer. And perfectly sweet.

My apologies for lack of process pictures this time, but it truly is as easy as it sounds.

Poached Peaches

serves 6

3 large firm (not-quite-ripe) peaches

1 c white or rose wine

1 Tbsp sugar

1/2 c whipping cream

1 tsp vanilla

1 tsp powdered sugar

18 amaretti cookies (recipe to come)

Halve peaches. Remove pit with knife edge or melon baller.

Place peach halves, cut side down, into a wide skillet. Sear on high heat for 1 minute. Pour wine over peaches. Sprinkle sugar onto peaches evenly. Swirl gently to combine. Bring wine to a simmer, then cover with a lid. Poach peaches until just tender when pricked with a fork.

Remove peach halves gently to serving platter with a slotted spoon. Reduce wine and juices until slightly thickened. Pour over peaches.

Whip cream with vanilla and powdered sugar until stiff.

Dollop cream onto peach halves, then crumble 1 amaretti cookie on top. Serve additional amaretti cookies alongside.

A Good Causa

2011-09-05T12:00:00.000-07:00

I love making Peruvian food. It takes me back to my travels there, reminds me of dear friends whose lives have some Incan threads running in their life tapestry, too; and of friends and partners in service who still live in Lima, tirelessly working and loving their neighbor.

Have I mentioned before what a wonderous complexity Peruvian cuisine is?

Few countries can claim such a diversity of influences. The food I have eaten in Lima (and beyond) was far more compelling than I'd anticipated and I believe the collision of food traditions makes it so- Peru offers fusion cuisine at its finest!

Here is the history, as summarized from my beautiful tome: The Art of Peruvian Cuisine. The Incas laid a foundation of Quechuan cuisine with potatoes (over 1,000 varietals of the tuber!), quinoa, and aji pepers. When the Spanish came to South America in the 15th century, they brought dairy, new meats, wheat, sugar cane, limes, and olives. With the Spaniards also came African slaves who added aromatic spices and the concept of grilled beef heart- anticuchos! In the 19th century, Peru won its independence from Spain and became enamored with the French immigrants and their Revolution and cuisine- namely the mousse desserts. During the next century, Cantonese servants came from China to build the railroads of Peru and work the plantations. Their soy sauce, ginger, and imported vegetable seeds were shared with Peruvians in small eateries, eventually resulting in fusion stir fry dishes like lomo saltado. Perhaps the most refining touch on the Peruvian palate occurred at the turn of the 20th century as Japanese immigration to Peru began. Miso, an interest in seafood, and the subtle sophistication of Japanese food preparation have each left an indelible mark on Peruvian cuisine.

yukon golds

Meanwhile, back home in San Francisco in 2011, we'd been promising a friend (who was raised as an expat in the Hinterlands of Peru) a legitimate Peruvian meal at our place. It had become a lingering promise, a hope unfulfilled, dangling, waiting...

Inking a dinner date for this Peruvian feast at last was a great joy, for all of these reasons above. And more. My tastebuds were tingling in excitement. In addition to pisco sours, ceviche, aji a gallina, and alfajores, I wanted to make this terrine-like dish (a very French execution of Quechua ingredients!) called causa. It's a classic summertime Limenian dish - a sophisticated, layered potato salad with surprising flavors of citrus and aji amarillo. I love the colors, textures, and flavors. It's a bit of a labor of love, but you won't regret it. And when you make it at home, unlike hordes of unassuming tourists who consume mayonnaise in a third world country and regret it approximately 3 hours later, you'll be in flavor heaven AND looking forward to leftovers.

FBN and DN, I hope it was worth the protracted wait. Here's to a more timely, less distracted dinner party in the near future!

Causa Limeña

serves 10 as a salad course

2 lb yukon gold (or other yellow) potatoes

1/3 c vegetable oil

8 oz sea bass or cod fillets

1 red onion, thinly sliced

1/4 c vinegar

1 Tbsp aji amarillo paste*

juice of 2 limes

juice of 1 orange

salt

1 avocado

3/4 c mayonnaise

2 c cooked fresh corn kernels

2 c lettuce leaves

Boil potatoes in salted water until tender (approx 20min).

While potatoes cook, tackle 3 tasks: first, marinate onion in vinegar and 1 tsp salt. Second, juice one lime and the orange into a medium bowl. Third, poach fish in water to cover, adding a pinch of salt, lime rind, juice of 1/2 of second lime, and orange rinds to the pot.

Once fish is cooked through, remove from stock and cool, then flake.

Once potatoes are cooked, strain and cool until just safe to touch. Peel and press through a potato ricer into the bowl of citrus juice. Add oil, aji amarillo paste, and 1 tsp salt. Stir well to incorporate into a smooth mixture.

Slice avocado thinly. Squeeze remaining lime juice onto the avocado slices.

Prepare a loaf pan by lightly oiling, then lining with plastic wrap, wax paper, or parchment. Spoon a scant fourth of the potato mixture into the bottom of the pan, smoothing with a spoon into a thin, flat layer. Spread on a very thin layer of mayonnaise.

Strain half of the marinated onion slices and layer into the pan. Add flaked fish evenly on top. Spoon on a second quarter of the potato mixture, smoothing well. Again, spread on a thin layer of mayonnaise.

Add avocado slices on top, then cover with third quarter of potato mixture. Spread on a thin layer of mayonnaise.

Evenly distribute corn kernels over top. Cover with remaining potato mixture, smoothing to cover well. Cover with a sheet of plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour or more.

To serve, place a bed of lettuce leaves on a platter, then uncover and invert chilled causa loaf onto the serving platter. Strain remaining onion slices and garnish top of causa. Serve in slices on a summer day. Viva La Peru!

*aji amarillo paste

It is a wonderful thing if you have access to either aji amarillo peppers or this paste. If, like me, you lack access to a Peruvian market, here's an approximation.

1/2 lb orange habanero peppers

1/2 orange bell pepper

1/4 c sugar

2 Tbsp vinegar

1 Tbsp vegetable oil

Wash, stem, seed and devein, and chop the peppers. Place in cool water and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 30min until peppers have softened. Strain peppers and place into a blender or food processor. Add remaining ingredients. Blend into a smooth paste. This may be frozen or refrigerated or served alongside causa or other Peruvian dishes as a condiment.

Puffed Daddy

2011-08-29T07:30:00.000-07:00

Minor variations on this recipe are served up with regular irregularly in this house.

Usually it's the papa that does the peeling, coring, slicing, and baking of our puffed apple pancake. But sometimes, just sometimes, it's me.

Substitutions! Experimentation!

(evil laugh)

Dutch baby, oven pancake, German pancake... there are many names and variations for this breakfast which is hearty and rich and carbohydrate-laden, like good Deutch food should be. But far from stodgy, this breakfast can't hide it's dramatic side.

There is something so thrilling about having a simple, unleavened combination of wet ingredients puff up to such impressive proportions in the secret darkness of the oven, show off the heights of glory for a few brief moments accompanied by appropriate "oohs and ahhs," then deflate somewhat into a custardy, buttery breakfast extravaganza. It's all rather theatrical and wonderous. And (we tell ourselves), with all the fruit and eggs and dairy, it's packed with the right stuff to start your day.

this is perhaps 30seconds out of the oven, already deflating

I'd say this is easy enough for a 1/2hr-prep breakfast at home, but impressive enough to serve to guests at a brunch. Personally, I like the apples very thinly sliced (yes, MrR, very thinly) so that they almost collapse into apple butter during the baking process. Alternatively, thicker slices, particularly of a tarter apple are quite nice for contrast.

Prost!

Apple Puffed Oven Pancake

serves 6

6 Tbsp butter
3 tart apples (Granny Smith or other), peeled, cored, thinly sliced cross-wise
3 Tbsp cinnamon sugar (1/2 tsp cinnamon mixed with a scant 3 Tbsp sugar)

1 1/2 c whole milk
6 large eggs
2 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 tsp salt
1 c all purpose flour

powdered sugar (optional)

Preheat oven to 425degF while assembling other ingredients.

Place butter into a 9x13" casserole or an oven-safe dish of similar dimensions. Allow to melt as oven is preheating.

Once butter is fully melted, lay apple rings in dish in an even layer, overlapping as needed. Return dish to oven for 8-10min or until the apples have softened and butter is bubbling and beginning to brown. Sprinkle baked apples with cinnamon sugar mixture.

While apples are baking mix together remaining ingredients, beating until you have a smooth mixture. Pour gently over cinnamon-sugared apples. Return dish to oven for 20-22min until the pancake is puffed up by several inches in several areas and golden brown to brown.

Remove for ready, watching, & waiting guests- it deflates quickly and you don't want to miss the drama. Slice and serve warm. Sprinkling with powdered sugar is traditional, but optional.

Special Request

2011-08-27T11:30:00.000-07:00

My children are both decidedly omnivorous. We discuss this with surprising frequency. More on that in a moment.

They both like eggs, many vegetables, salads, all fruits, carbs of every ilk, and dairy. And they love bacon. I had no idea that chicken would win out over all of the above in the must-have-for-birthday-dinner category. Chicken nuggets, specifically.

When I suggested a pretzel coating for the bite-sized portions of poultry, both of my summer-birthed little ones agreed whole-heartedly. It was this recipe that had come to mind- a classic American dish with pretzels, mustard, and chicken all tossed together and baked until just right. It's ideal for picky omnivorous eaters. My sister used to fall in this category back in her college years, which is when I discovered mustard pretzel chicken and first began to make it.

In the (many) intervening years, my sister's palate has matured. And (unrelated) I have been making a concerted effort to eat meat less frequently and more selectively. To be aware of where the meat we do choose to eat originates. To consume less so that the earth's bounty might spread further. This chicken dinner is not one of more stellar examples of that intentionality. In other words, I did not harvest this chicken myself, nor do I know the farmer who raised it or farm's geographic location, and yes, it is highly inefficiently produced meat. Honoring each birthday child's desires, and juggling the party preparations, I purchased styrofoam and plastic bound bird flesh. And we were grateful for the meal and the bounty.

Mental note: I need to order my own copies of this book and this one, too, and dwell on the hallowedness and preciousness of food more frequently. For so many have so little. And many, (including me, my family, and my country) grab and take and grow obese of body and soul. So, in varied aspects of our lives, my household and I repeat the mantra: "Let us be grateful, not greedy." Thank you MCS and FBN.

We also make space for feasting. And celebrating life!

Happy birthday, little omnivores.

Pretzel-Encrusted Mustard Chicken

serves 6

1/3 lb thick, hard pretzels, preferably mustard flavored (we like Snyders of Hanover)

1/4 c oil (vegetable, olive, grapeseed)

1/2 c whole grain mustard

1/4 c Dijon mustard

2 Tbsp water

3 Tbsp apple cider vinegar

2 1/2 lb boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into nuggets or strips

Preheat oven to 400degF.

Coarsely grind pretzels in a food processor to achieve a mixture of crumbs to 1/2" chunks. Place pretzel breading (you should have 3-4 c) in a shallow bowl.

Wipe out the food processor bowl and add the wet ingredients. Pulse until smooth and season with salt and pepper to taste.

Pour half of dressing into a shallow bowl. Coat each chicken piece with the dressing, then with the pretzel breading, pressing to adhere. Place chicken pieces onto an oven-safe cooling rack set over a rimmed baking sheet. Bake in the upper portion of the oven for 20min or until cooked through.

While chicken is cooking, warm remaining dressing and place in a small serving bowl for drizzling or dipping.

By George!

2011-08-20T14:00:00.000-07:00

Yes, yes! I've done it!

For some reason, sourdough pizza crust nirvana has eluded me. Irritated me. Disappointed me. Left a lot to be desired.

I am not usually the pizza maker in the family.

My trusty sous chef typically gathers the flock and gets the dough, toppings, and whole-shebang rolling on Friday afternoons as I'm wrapping up work and heading home on 2 wheels. Usually I just toss a salad and/or pour some vino for us and flop onto a sofa for Friday Family Pizza & Movie Night. And he doesn't touch my sourdough starter. Not out of any territorialness on my part, it's just not his modus operandi.

But when my sous chef is away (and this time he was truly abroad in New Zealand *sigh*), this gal gets to play. And play I did. It was time to give the sourdough crust yet another go. I did it with some fear and trepidation. But I think, by George, I've done it!

You don't have to have a 500+degF wood-fired oven or a pizza peel (though I'll quickly befriend you and ask to borrow either if you do!). But a pizza stone and some parchment paper are a big help here. I use an Emile Henry 36cm pizza stone. Make sure to crank the oven up high, too- at least 475degF!

This site was my inspiration for sourdough thin crust, having already tried many others' suggestions with much less pleasing results. You do have to listen to your dough and respond accordingly, but it's not a particularly lengthy process. In fact, I'd say this is a great starting point for all you thin crust pizza connoisseurs.

We use this for sauce. Because it's good.

Pizza-pizza. Enjoy!

Sourdough Pizza Crust

makes enough for one 14-16" thin crust pizza

1 c flour

1/3 c whole wheat flour

1 1/3 c sourdough starter

+/- 2 Tbsp water

1 Tbsp olive oil

1/2 tsp salt

Combine starter with flours, 1 Tbsp water, olive oil, and salt in a mixer with dough hook OR knead it by hand to achieve a smooth dough. Add 1-2 more Tbsp water or 1-2 more Tbsp flour until dough is slightly sticky, but "lively" as my Grandmother would say.

Leave dough in a bowl, covered well, in refrigerator overnight (at least 5hrs). Remove dough and let it rest at room temperature while preparing pizza toppings and preheating oven to 475degF. Place pizza stone into oven.

Stretch dough over tops of knuckles into a 16" circle. Lay dough circle onto parchment paper. Roll edges of dough into a crust and fit to baking stone size. Dock all but the crust with a fork (or pizza docking tool!).

Remove hot stone from oven. Lay parchment with dough onto hot stone. Bake for 3-4 min. Remove from oven.

Spread sauce, cheese, toppings, and more cheese onto crust. Return to oven for an additional 10min (or until crust is crisp & golden and sauce is bubbling and cheese melted). Remove stone. Slide parchment off of stone and allow pizza to cool very slightly before cutting into wedges to serve. Sprinkle with extra parmesan and/or crushed red pepper if desired.

Sangria

2011-08-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

For some reason, a very many summer dishes, at least the ones foremost in my repertoire, are Italian. Caprese (tomato basil & mozzerella) salad, eggplant parmesan, grilled pizza, and even my new favorite squash salad. But I've never been to Italy. This must be corrected. One day.

I have done a bit of traveling in Barcelona, and in the summer. Enough to become completely enamorad with Gaudí as well as Catalan-meets-Spanish cuisine- botifarra, picada, bunyols, and bubbly cava. I found there are surprising similarities to Italian food and drink (or perhaps not so surprising given the shared terrain, Mediterranean Sea, and cultures!). I will always fondly remember a beach-side meal in Costa Brava with paella and sangria, salty-sweet sea breezes around me echoing the flavors in my mouth. While prawn eyes stared me down from the paella pan...

I enjoy the fruity complexity of sangria. It's bold with citrus and spice, tannis tamed by brandy and triple sec, just sweet enough, but with plenty of body. It takes my mouth back to Spain, to good (yet inexpensive) table wine, a leisurely pace of life, and toasty warm summer afternoons.

It won't surprise you that I like to incorporate seasonal fruit into my sangria (variable per the segment of summer in which I'm stirring up a batch): peaches with rose' bring spring into early summer, strawberries and pluots are a mid-summer's night's dream, and grapes and cherries shout out one last late summer hurrah. A bit of slicing, juicing, and pouring before a 12 hour wait will serve you and your guests well.

A taste of Barcelona, for you, cariño. Salud!

Summer Sangría
1 pitcher

1 lemon (sliced thinly into rounds)
2 oranges (cut into 1/2, then sliced)
2 c sliced/pitted mixed summer fruit (berries, stonefruit)

1/4 c brandy

1/4 c triple sec

1/2 c fresh-squeezed orange juice

1 bottle red wine (preferably full-bodied - rioja, malbec, zinfandel, etc)
1/4 c fresh-squeezed lemon juice

2 Tbsp simple syrup
1 1/2 to 2 c sparkling water

Wash and prepare fruit. Place fruit in bottom of a pitcher and pour brandy and triple sec over. Swirl to combine. Allow to macerate in the refrigerator overnight.

Add juices, wine, and simple syrup a few hours before serving, stirring to incorporate well. Add the sparkling water just prior to serving- use more or less to taste.

Serve sangria with a ladle to allow maximum enjoyment of fruit and liquid together!

Em-em-em-empanadas!

2011-08-10T18:30:00.000-07:00

Cuban meals aren't complete, if you ask me, unless there are empanadas involved.

Wait.

Does anyone else have a hard time speaking the word empanada without transitioning to a head-banging, heart-felt rendition of My Sharona? Anyone else? Anyone? Anyone?

Em-panada! (Dum da-da dum dum. Dum da-da dum.) Em-em-em-em-panada!

Yeah. Me neither.

I'm sure none of us are indelibly marked as teens of the eighties. Nor did anyone I know ever dance like this in a Food Mart. Nope.

Honestly, it's not just the name. I rrrrreally like eating empanadas, amigos. And I've got a particular soft spot in my heart (or is it my belly?) for black bean and sweet potato empanadas. I've purchased and made a few versions and I believe this iteration is at the top of my list.

You can pack these little purses full of antioxidants and still please the kids (of all ages). It's easy to go vegetarian, dial up or down on the poblano content (or roast it first!), or even add dried fruit (bits of raisins are Latin-authentic). So customize to your heart's content, but here's a launch pad for you.

Small plates service of miniature (snack-sized) black bean & sweet potato empanadas, accompanied by a portion of this tropical salad, are an enjoyably explosive flavor combination.

3... 2... 1...

Cuba, we have lift off!

Myyyy-yi-yi WOO!

Black Bean & Sweet Potato Empanadas

serves 8

empanada breading of choice (here's mine, but purchased pizza or pie dough are alternatives)

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 poblano chile, diced
1 tablespoon cumin seeds, ground
8 oz chorizo (or soyrizo or turkey chorizo)

1/2 c chopped red onion

1 can black beans, rinsed and drained

3 c of 1/2" diced, cooked sweet potatoes
1/2 c chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 egg white, lightly beaten

Cook chile in olive oil in small skillet until softened. Add cumin and toss to coat.

In medium skillet, crumble and cook chorizo until almost fully done, but not dry. Add red onion and continue cooking until chorizo is cooked through and onion is soft. Toss in black beans until warmed and well-incorporated.

In a medium bowl, combine chile mixture, chorizo mixture, and remaining ingredients.

Preheat oven to 375degF.

Divide dough into 30 small 3" circles or 16 medium 5-6" circles. Place filling (1 1/2 or 4 Tbsp, respectively) off-center on each dough round. Moisten perimeter of dough and fold to make semi-circle. Press to adhere, pinching or pressing with fork tines or creating pleats as per your aesthetic and time constraints. Transfer gently to parchment lined baking sheets.

Baste each empanada with egg white wash. Prick or slash center of each to create steam vents, then bake for 20-22min until golden. Transfer to cooling racks. Serve hot or room temperature.

Ensalada Cubana

2011-08-07T19:00:00.000-07:00

Our recent Cuban Night included several new recipes. I am the first to admit that our guests are, more oft than not, guinea pigs. Thankfully, you/they usually don't mind. (sheepish grin)

Speaking of experimentation, summertime is a most excellent season for hybridizing fruit and green salad. Think watermelon and arugula, tomato and basil, and now... pineapple and avocado.

Perhaps you've already been down this path. If not, the creamy flesh of avocado paired with the sweet acidity of pineapple, some lettuce and cilantro as greens, slivers of red onion for color and bite, with a tangy drizzle of citrus vinaigrette makes a pretty amazing pairing for the bready, usually fried dishes of Cuba- empanadas, platanos fritos, and (yes, I suppose) cigars.

Cuban Summer Salad

serves 6

1 ripe pineapple, peeled, cored, and cut into 1/2" pieces
2 ripe avocados, cut into 1/2" bites
juice of 1 small orange
juice of 2 limes
1/4 c olive oil
1/4 c white wine vinegar
1 Tbsp sugar
1 tsp salt
pepper to taste
bed of shredded lettuce

a handful of cilantro leaves

1/4 of red onion sliced into very thin wedges

Chop pineapple and avocado. Mix next 7 ingredients together well.

Place bed of lettuce on a platter. Layer with pineapple and avocado. Drizzle with vinaigrette. Sprinkle with cilantro and onion as garnish.

Blackberry Briar Cocktail

2011-08-05T17:00:00.000-07:00

Tis the season of hiking along trails with an extra Tupperware container at the ready, hoping to stumble upon a blackberry bramble, heavy laden with deep purple fruit. A joyous, lip-stained time of blackberry cobblers & buckles, jam & preserves.

And why not blackberry cocktails?

Bunches of basil are easy enough to find at the farmers' market. It's time to make at triple batch of lemon basil syrup to have at the ready for cocktails and mocktails. The addition of basil makes blackberry cocktails fascinating. In this iteration, rum brings the buttery richness of a baked dessert, gin adds some complexity, while lemon basil syrup sweetens and broadens the flavor palate. A hint of green, a bit of bite, and the rich juiciness of summer berries.

Well worth raising a toast to summer!

(Thanks for being willing taste-testers in your sunny spot of San Francisco, DR&MR!)

Blackberry Briar Cocktail

serves 4

5 oz lemon basil syrup

4 oz gin

3 oz blackberry rum**

3 oz lemon juice

**Infuse rum with several ounces (roughly 4 oz) blackberries. Agitate and smash berries several times over 24hrs. Strain berries from rum, pressing on solids to extract juices.

Mix blackberry rum, gin, lemon basil syrup, and lemon juice. Pour several ounces of the cocktail mixture into each of 4 glasses of ice. Top each glass with with sparkling water. Garnish with a lemon slice, blackberry, and basil sprig.

Suspicious Veggie

2011-08-01T18:15:00.000-07:00

I'm quite sure I've mentioned before the heavy-laden hesitancy with which I regard summer squash. Turn your back and squash multiplies. One plant produces enough to feed a 3rd world country. Neighbors sneak bags of it onto others' doorsteps in the night... and run. It's all so cruel- the color is so bright and sunny, their shape is quirky and endearing, but the taste is always, sadly, un-redeemably bitter. Indecent amounts of butter, breading, soy sauce, and lemon juice don't necessarily help matters. Many of you have tried to convince me that it's really not that bad. But it is. (Can I get a witness?)

Though, I made a squash soup earlier this season. And I'll begrudgingly admit that I actually did enjoy it. Despite the subtle bitter undertone. Our kids will eat squash (usually without threats or bribery) when cut into wedges, breaded, and fried/baked, but it's really not our favorite. Understatement.

I can't honestly say that I have ever served or been served a summer squash dish that left me wanting more, that led me to promise our guests and my own family that I'd make it again soon. I really hadn't anticipated such a stunning squash success. The components are nothing extraordinary- just basic Italian flavors. Using very fresh, juicy squash (preferably picked right off the vine) certainly helps. Suddenly I do not dread the pounds of yellow squash that are sure to arrive in our CSA boxes again and again in the coming weeks. (big grin) I feel like I true success when I can serve an inherently suspicious vegetable and have the dish licked clean. (Yes, A&A, we shall all be proud together!)

Though we don't bemoan unbearably hot temps here in San Francisco in the summertime, this dish carries the extra-bonus of requiring no oven, stovetop, or even grill to be produced. Which I think many of you will appreciate.

Zucchini doesn't turn my lip in quite the same way as it's golden cousin and has more versatility (sweet and savory quick breads, zucchini pickles, etc). If you have as great a glut of green summer squash as I have had of yellow, you can use one color, the other, or both in this easy salad.

This recipe is very closely drawn from a recent issue of bon appetit. I adore and admire alliteration in their title, so I'll adopt it...

Shaved Summer Squash Salad
serves 4-5

1/4 c whole almonds
1 1/2 lb fresh summer squash
2 Tbsp extra-virgin olive oil
juice of 1 lemon
1 minced/pressed garlic clove
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 c baby arugula

1/2 c shavings of Parmesan cheese

Roast almonds (350degF for +/-10min) and coarsely chop.

Meanwhile, in a large serving bowl or platter, whisk together extra-virgin olive oil, fresh lemon juice, minced garlic clove, kosher salt, and ground pepper to taste.

Using a vegetable peeler, thinly slice the squash lengthwise into strips (avoid the very center, rotating squash to shave off the other layers) and transfer to a large serving bowl.

Add a few handfuls of baby arugula on top. Shave Parmesan generously (roughly 1/2 c) over the squash.

Toss the salad just before serving, seasoning with additional kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper as desired. Sprinkle with chopped, toasted almonds.

Saturday Scoops -Natilla al Ron

2011-07-30T11:26:00.000-07:00

Cuban fever is hitting me hard of late. I blame it on far too much Buena Vista Social Club music streaming on Pandora, accompanied by impromptu salsa dancing, as well as an occasional mojito.

To complete a recent cena cubana, I wanted to make a grilled plantain dessert with helado. And I wanted cuban flavors in this ice cream. So I thought, "What is more cuban than a cigar?" No, no, that wouldn't work. Contraband, embargos, human rights, and all that. BUT the tobacco and ice cream combination is a concept worth pursuing, methinks. Another time...

Hmmm.

A better idea- RUM!

Natilla al Ron is a rum custard-cream dish, classically Cuban. So I took the concept & flavors and made up an ice cream recipe that is a most enjoyable Latin accompaniment for grilled summer fruits. Or, quite honestly, enjoyed as is. Perhaps with a sprinkling of coconut or drizzle of salted caramel?

Que rico!

Helado Natilla al Ron
makes 1 (scant) quart

1 1/2 c heavy cream
1 1/2 c half & half (or whole milk)
1 vanilla bean, split
2/3 c brown sugar
2 eggs
1/4 c dark or spiced rum

Bring cream, half & half, and vanilla bean to a simmer over medium heat, stirring to avoid burning. Remove vanilla bean and scrape out seeds into the cream.

Beat brown sugar and eggs together well. Add 1/2 c of the hot cream mixture, stirring well to incorporate, followed by another cup of hot cream. Add the tempered egg mixture back into the hot cream, stirring well. Continue to cook on medium heat, stirring until back of wooden spoon is coated well such that a finger drawn across leaves a distinct line.

Remove ice cream base from heat. Place pot into an ice water bath and refrigerate until base is cold (at least 1hr).

Freeze according to ice cream maker instructions and store in freezer. Scoop to your enjoyment!

Lemoncello

2011-07-22T17:00:00.000-07:00

Hello again!

I've taken a blog-break. Summer vacation and all that jazz.

And what is summer without lemoncello?

Truthfully this is my first summer dotted with frequent sips of lemoncello. And I'm not sure I can ever go back. Lemoncello is such an excellent summertime after-dinner drink - sweet, tart, and refreshing.

You may have made it before. It's so very simple and requires but 3 ingredients. Yes, THREE ingredients + 1 month of "aging" to perfection.

A single recipe yields enough either for you to sip on for an entire summer OR for you to enjoy and share generously with friends. Plus you'll have enough lemon juice left from all of the naked lemons to make lemonade for the kids or teetoalers. Clearly we do a lot of sipping and sharing...

Ready?

Lemoncello

makes 1.5L (enough to enjoy and share)

zest of 6 large lemons

1 750mL bottle vodka (or Everclear if you like really stiff lemoncello)

600mL simple syrup

Use a microplane or zester to remove peel with scant pith from 6 lemons. Add peel to bottle of vodka. Agitate bottle daily for 2 weeks to promote lemony-infusion.

Dissolve 2 c sugar in 2 c hot water to make approximately 600mL of simple syrup. Allow to cool.

Strain zest from vodka with fine mesh or cheesecloth. Mix simple syrup with lemon vodka. Let flavors meld for another 2 weeks, shaking container occasionally.

Store your completed lemoncello in the freezer for ready access to a perfect summer sipper!

Woodsy

2011-06-26T16:00:00.000-07:00

I can't stop talking about this pâté. I am smitten, if not speechless. And I apologize if I've utterly bored you personally by mentioning it for the, oh, seventy-second time while feigning a swoon and probably insisting that you simply MUST come over and try it NOW.

Wild mushroom pah-taaaaay.

It's unforgettable.

I am a dedicated fan of edible fungi. If you, however, aren't a lover of mushrooms (not to mention any names, RVSB), you are allowed a pass, no questions asked. Because this dish is all about the glory of mushrooms. Which are truly the perfect component for herbivores' pâté, given their inherent umami flavor.

Glorious. Absolutely woodsy, lush, velvety, slightly sherried mushroomy gloriousness.

I found the recipe in a 14 yr old Gourmet magazine (moment of silence). Exotic Mushroom Pâté, they called it. I've streamlined the original, making it a bit more reasonable to accomplish. I particularly like using small loaf pans (the recipe below made 4 mini loaves) to a single large pâté, as I was able to serve the appetizer at 4 different events and share the wealth more broadly. I made the topping fresh for each serving as the contrasting textures of the topping.

If you have access to a farmers market with a mushroom foragers' booth (or legitimate mushroom farmers' stand for that matter) and/or proximity to an Asian market you should be able to find these items. Porcinis are the priciest item on the list and more likely found in an Italian or European market, but they do add great depth and nuttiness of flavor and you'll be glad you included them. And the recipe is well worth the time investment, too.

Wild Mushroom Pâté
makes 4 small loaves or 1 large loaf

For pâté:
3/4 c vegetable broth
3/4 oz dried porcini mushrooms

3 c fresh shiitake mushrooms (or 1 c dried) (divided)
3 c fresh oyster mushrooms (or 1 c dried) (divided)
1/2 stick unsalted butter
1/2 c minced spring onion, red onion, or shallots
2 garlic cloves, minced or pressed
2 Tbsp sherry
1/2 c heavy cream
2 large eggs
1/2 c whole almonds with skins, toasted (divided)
1/2 c chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley (divided)
1/4 c fresh bread crumbs
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper

For topping:
1 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Make the pâté:
Butter loaf pan(s), then line bottom(s) and sides with parchment paper. Butter paper.

Bring stock to a boil in a small saucepan. Remove pan from heat, add all dried mushrooms, and let soak in hot stock until softened, about 30 minutes.

With a slotted spoon, transfer mushrooms to a medium-mesh sieve set over a bowl. Press on them with back of a spoon to remove excess liquid, then add this to soaking liquid and reserve. Pat dry, chop, and put in a large bowl.

Strain reserved soaking liquid through a fine-mesh sieve into another small saucepan. Bring to a brisk simmer over moderate heat and simmer until reduced to about 1/4 cup, about 10 minutes. Add to mushrooms.

Put a rack in middle of oven and preheat oven to 350°F.

Heat 2 tablespoons butter in a large nonstick skillet over moderate heat until foam subsides. Add onion/shallots and garlic and cook, stirring, until softened, about 6 minutes. Add sherry and cook, stirring for 1 minute. Transfer mixture to a blender. Heat 2 more tablespoons butter in skillet over moderately high heat until foam subsides. Add any fresh mushrooms and cook until softened. Toss all mushrooms together.

Take all but 1/4 c of mushroom mixture and blend with cream, eggs and half of almonds in a blender until very smooth, about 1 minute. Stir in all but 2 Tbsp of parsley, and all of bread crumbs, lemon juice, salt, and pepper until well combined. Pour mixture into loaf pan(s) and cover with foil.

Put loaf pan(s) in a larger baking pan and add enough boiling water to reach halfway up sides of loaf pan. Bake until set, approximately 40 minutes (pâté will not be completely set in center). Remove loaf pan(s) from baking pan and let cool to room temperature on a rack. Refrigerate pâté in pan(s), covered, for at least 6 hours. (Extra mini loaves may also be wrapped wel and frozen.) Bring pâté to room temperature before adding topping.

While the pâté comes to room temperature, make the topping:
Heat butter and oil in a large skillet over moderately high heat until foam subsides. Add remaining almonds (1/4 c if making a new batch of topping) and cook, stirring, until almonds are golden. Toss in remaining mushrooms (1/4 c reconstituted mushrooms if making a second batch) and 2 Tbsp parsley, salt and pepper.

To unmold pâté, run a thin knife between paper and edges of loaf pan. Invert a large plate over loaf pan and invert pâté onto plate and remove parchment. Mound warm topping onto pâté, and spread on toasts and/or crackers.

Saturday Scoops - Browned Butter Sage Ice Cream

2011-06-25T14:50:00.000-07:00

But my sage plant is going gangbusters, with the most gorgeous clusters of velvety leaves. When our CSA farmer ran short on lemon verbena (for shame!) and substituted sage, I found myself with quite the surplus. What to do?

So it was time to get creative.

Cocktail? Appetizer? Ice cream?

YES. Ice cream.

So I did some research and decided that browned butter, a hint of lemon, and brown sugar would make savory sage sing a sweet tune. I served this drizzled with salted caramel sauce alongside sips of lemoncello (recipe forthcoming).

We were very, very pleased.

Browned Butter Sage Ice Cream

makes 1 quart

1 1/2 c heavy cream

1 1/2 c milk

4 Tbsp butter

1/2 c sage leaves

zest of 1/2 lemon (1/2 tsp)

3 eggs

2/3 c brown sugar

1/4 tsp salt

(several sage leaves for mix-in or garnish)

Slice butter into 1 Tbsp pieces and melt over medium-high heat in a large saucepan. Add sage leaves. Stir frequently, bringing butter past foaming to a medium brown (but not burnt) color. Remove from heat and stir briefly.

Add cream, milk, and lemon zest to brown butter and sage. Bring to a simmer. Turn off heat and set aside to steep. After 15min, strain leaves and zest from the cream mixture. Return cream to the same pot and bring to a simmer again.

Mix eggs, sugar, and salt together well. Slowly add 1/2 c hot cream to the egg mixture, stirring to combine. Stir in another 1/2 c of hot cream, then pour tempered egg mixture into the pot with remaining cream.

Stir mixture with a wooden spoon over medium-high heat continuously until it coats the back of a spoon well, staying on either side of a line traced by your finger.

Cool in an ice bath or in the refrigerator until cold, then process according to your ice cream maker's instructions. You may toss in an additional Tbsp of minced fresh sage in the last minute of churning to add some color and an extra punch of sage flavor.

Serve with salted caramel sauce and sugar cookies. Or with a sprinkling of finely sliced fresh sage or minced candied orange peel.

Asian Daisy

2011-06-03T17:00:00.000-07:00

This cocktail is subtle, herbal, and pairs nicely with lighter Asian fare. It's a springboard off the classic Daisy cocktail equation: any spirit + lemon juice + sugar + soda water.

Brandy is probably the most classic spirit utilized in a Daisy, but I was interested in something a bit lighter. Something with lemongrass and ginger that wasn't too sweet. The Asian Daisy is nice with cilantro playing up the herbal nature of gin, though mint or basil would be good alternatives if you just aren't a fan of coriander. Each of the primary natural flavors (lemon, lemongrass, and ginger) yield a hint of yellow that is alluring. Soda water adds a refreshing effervescence that's perfect for late springtime, as we draw near to summer.

Here's to the glorious warmth and sunshine of spring!
Ganbei! ("bottoms up," in Mandarin)

Asian Daisy
serves 4 to 5

10 oz ginger-infused gin

2 1/2 oz lemongrass simple syrup
2 1/2 oz fresh-squeezed lemon juice
small bunch of cilantro
soda water

Peel and thinly slice several tablespoons of ginger root (a 2" piece should suffice). Add to 10 oz gin. Allow to infuse over 12hrs+. Strain out ginger.

Remove the dry, woody outer layers off one stalk of lemongrass and slice into thin strips. Cook with 1/4 c water and 1/4 c sugar, stirring until sugar dissolves. Bring mixture to a boil, then remove from heat. Let infuse for 1/2hr. Strain out lemongrass.

Combine ginger gin, lemongrass syrup, and lemon juice in a glass jar and refrigerate until cold. Crush/smack 2 sprigs of cilantro to release oils, then place into each of 4 old-fashioned glasses. Generously ice. Divide gin mixture evenly between 4-5 glasses, then top each off with soda water.

Last Hurrah

2011-06-02T20:19:00.000-07:00

As spring (and thus asparagus season) begins to draw to a close in Northern California, I have to pass along one last hurrah of a recipe to you. It's the topping, really, that is most worth noting. And absolutely worth making. Again and again. It's truly fabulous and could have multiple lives, on asparagus, on other steamed or sauteed vegetables, on salads, on pasta even, perhaps.

You could play with the type of nut and spices but this is a very nice starting point. I promise. We had it as a side at brunch (alongside "Dutch baby" oven pancake and fresh fruit) and it was a huge hit. So it made a repeat performance soon thereafter for good measure!

So if you can snag a bunch or two of the last harvest of asparagus at your local farmer's market, give this a go and let me know what you think.

Spanish-Crumbed Asparagus

serves 6

2 bunches of asparagus

1 Tbsp olive oil

1 Tbsp butter

1 c coarsely chopped bread

1/2 c slivered almonds

1 tsp smoked paprika

salt and pepper to taste

2 Tbsp sherry vinegar (or champagne vinegar)

2 Tbsp lemon juice

1/3 c olive oil

1/4 c minced cilantro

salt & pepper to taste

Steam asparagus by whatever means you prefer (parchment in the oven, stove top in upright or side-lying steamer, microwave if you must). Rinse with cold water once crisp tender to keep them from cooking.

Heat olive oil and butter until foamy in a skillet. Add bread crumbs and almonds and toss to coat evenly. Cook until golden and fragrant. Sprinkle with paprika, salt, and pepper and toss to coat evenly. Remove from heat and spread on wax paper to cool and crisp further.

Shake vinegar, lemon juice, oil, cilantro, and more salt and pepper in a jar to emulsify. Drizzle over asparagus evenly. Allow to rest for at least 10min. Toss again before serving.

Just before serving, sprinkle seasoned bread and almond mixture onto marinated asparagus.

Thai Iced Tea

2011-05-27T17:00:00.000-07:00

Thai iced tea is the lunch time pick-me-up of choice at my office. And with good reason!

These beverages carry a nice jolt of caffeine, are spicy and sweet, and practically constitute a dessert. The creamy supernatant (what a glorious word) certainly pushes it toward that category. And, really. Who doesn't love consuming a year's worth of orange food coloring in one sipping? Yep. It's just what the doctor ordered to carry us all through the post-prandial dip.

I was a bit disturbed to find that making your own Thai iced tea (for 99.9% of the population) means picking up a package of powdered Thai tea leaves (with desicated orange dye and God knows what else powdered right along with them) and adding hot water. So I did some research on how to get the flavor right with spices and tea leaves, if not the color. Though I'm not opposed to dye-ing for authenticity sake. The next step was to find out what was the appropriate creamy topping- coconut milk? whipping cream? Half-n-half? None or a mix of the above?

After putzing around in the kitchen over a couple of batches, I think I've got it down pat now.

It isn't hard to simmer this up and store it in the fridge for those moments when Thai iced tea cravings arise. Which might start to happen.

Regularly.

Thai Iced Tea

serves 8

1/2 gallon water

5 star anise

5 cloves

1" piece of cinnamon stick

1 strip orange peel

1/2 vanilla bean, split lengthwise

1 c China black tea leaves

1 1/2 - 2 c sugar (to taste)

red & yellow food coloring (if desired)

1 - 2 c half & half or heavy cream

Bring water, anise, cloves, and cinnamon stick to a boil. Add tea leaves and remove from heat. Cover and let steep for 10minutes. Strain, scraping in vanilla beans. Add sugar (to taste) and stir to dissolve.

Store brewed tea in the refrigerator. Add 10 drops red food coloring and 10 drops yellow food coloring if desired to create the "authentic" deep orange/brown color.

Pour into generously iced glasses. Top each topped with several tablespoons of cream or half & half, then add a straw.

C is for Cookie...

2011-05-25T22:50:00.000-07:00

...and "vegan" starts with V!
And "cream" starts with a C, but you no can eat dat. Oohmm... NOMnomNOMnomNOM!

Who knew that vegan baking could be so fun? Truly?

Confession: It's thoughtlessly easy to make these peanut butter cookies ~~while exploiting animals~~ with eggs and dairy if you aren't vegan and don't want to bake like you are.

Reassurance: These are the best peanut butter cookies eh-ver, with perfect chewiness and just-right crumb.

2nd confession: I'm not sure that I'd ever even met a vegan when I started baking these cookies years ago. Though I think I knew what they were all about.

Reassurance: You'll like them (the cookies, not necessarily vegans) either way. Very much. With an ice cold glass of almond milk. *wink*

Most peanut butter cookies are rather one dimensional. I gravitate toward them nonetheless because when the variety cookie platter has questionably crunchy cookies (an unforgivable sin) of the oatmeal raisin or chocolate chip variety, I can nearly always trust that the peanut butter ones will still bow beautifully when bent.

One reason I fell in love with this recipe, indeed, with this restaurant's cookbook, is that these are NOT one-dimensional peanut butter cookies. I think the few tablespoons of dark, bitter double-strength coffee are what make the salty-sweetness of peanut butter and the sweet darkness of chocolate, a sophisticated combination instead of mere child's play.

Vegan (but only if you feel like it) Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies

makes 2 dozen

1 stick vegan margarine (or butter), softened

1/2 c brown sugar

1/2 c sugar

1/2 c peanut butter (creamy or crunchy)

1/2 tsp vanilla

1 packet of instant VIA coffee dissolved in 3 Tbsp water

1/2 Tbsp cornstarch dissolved in 1 Tbsp water (or 1 egg)

1 1/2 c plus 2 Tbsp flour

3/4 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

2/3 c semi-sweet or dark chocolate chips

1/4 c minced roasted, salted peanuts (if desired, in lieu of crunchy pnb)

Preheat oven to 375degF.

Cream margarine/butter with sugars. Beat in peanut butter, then vanilla and super-strength coffee. Mix in cornstarch slurry. Blend in dry ingredients until just incorporated.

Fold in chocolate chips and additional peanuts (if desired).

Scoop rounded tablespoonfuls of dough onto parchment lined baking sheets. Bake for 10min (until cracked and barely browned, still soft). Remove gently to cooling racks after 1 minute rest.

One Spicy Salad

2011-05-22T22:21:00.000-07:00

Green papaya salad was a gastronomic revelation to me one afternoon when I was feeling unusually adventurous at a Thai restaurant. Though I pride myself on adventurous eating generally, I can't say that I order waaay off the beaten path at ethnic restaurants. Ie: I'm not the one chosing goat saute or chicken gizzard pudding or monkey brain pie.

But, for some reason on that fine day, a green papaya salad topped with soft-shelled crab sounded good to me. And the wide array of flavors and textures that my palate met made a big impression. And though I love cooking up my own pad Thai, big bowls of pho, and even their fabulously charged tea beverages, I'd never thought to try my hand at making green papaya salad. That is, not until a recent dinner party which included vegetarians (2) and a gluten-free eater (1), thus stretching my Thai cooking skills. Once I had made the mental connection between the oblong light green produce of unknown identity at the Asian markets and this dish, the rest was easy enough.

Like most Asian food, this salad is a scintillating thing, as I alluded to before. It's salty, sweet, sour, meaty (in an umami, yet vegetarian sense), fresh and spicy. Yin and yang. A mandoline or food processor makes fast work of the green papaya and carrot. The sauce is easy enough, though finding tamarind paste might require a few excursions to local Asian markets if you don't have a single comprehensive one nearby. You'll find other uses for it and it keeps forever, so no worries. And you can choose to top it with soft shelled crab or grilled shrimp or (easiest of all) shredded rotisserie chicken if you want a omnivorous and still fairly authentic-tasting main course.

Thai Green Papaya Salad

serves 8

1/3 c tamarind paste, dissolved into 1/3 c hot water

5 Thai chilli peppers

8 cloves garlic, peeled

3 Tbsp soy sauce (or 2 Tbsp nam pla if not vegetarian)

1 tsp salt

3 limes, juiced

3 Tbsp agave nectar (or honey or simple syrup if need be)

5 c coarsely shredded green papaya (peeled and seeded, then shredded)

1 c green beans (or long beans), cut on the bias

2 medium carrots, finely shredded

12-15 cherry or grape tomatoes, halved or quartered

1/3 c chopped roasted, salted peanuts

Break off roughly 1/3 c of tamarind paste from the block. Place into a bowl and pour hot water on top. Use fork and/or fingers to break apart paste and dissolve to form a thick liquid. Strain out tamarind pod pieces.

Combine tamarind nectar with chillies, peeled garlic cloves, soy sauce, and salt. Using a pestle or muddler, crush the chillies and garlic until they are bruised and broken apart. Add lime juice and agave nectar. Pour dressing into a large serving bowl.

Toss shredded papaya and carrots with sliced green beans and tomatoes. Allow salad to macerate for at least 1 hour. Serve sprinkled with peanuts.

This is traditionally served with sticky rice and topped with chicken, but may also be served as a salad course.

Saturday Scoops - Easy Vanilla

2011-05-21T09:31:00.000-07:00

Plain Jane.

Unimaginative.
Nothing much to comment on.
Booooring old vanilla.

Or wait. Is it?

There are many a perfect showcase for this simple flavor. And if not in ice cream, then I don't know where!

Brown sugar and sea salt bring complexity to the already wonderful flavor of tahitian vanilla beans in this formulation that I've dreamed up. If you like vanilla at all, I think you'll agree. And vanilla, really good vanilla ice cream plays so well with others... like brownies, picky children of all ages, and salted caramel sauce, to name a few.

Perhaps the best part about this recipe is that it is so shockingly easy. OH. SO. Easy. As in no egg-cracking, no custard making, no straining, no chilling before churning, no waiting. Well... very little waiting. And when you taste the full-flavored results, I don't believe you'll despise or question the absence of slaving over a stove one bit.

Easy Brown-Sugar Vanilla Ice Cream
makes 1/2 gallon

3 c whole milk
1 1/2 c heavy cream
3/4 c brown sugar
2 tsp vanilla extract
seeds scraped from 1 vanilla bean
1/4 tsp sea salt

Warm 1 c of milk and dissolve the brown sugar in it. Combine all ingredients.

Pour into ice cream maker and churn according to instructions.

Transfer to a container, seal, and allow to cure for 2 hours or longer.

Scoop and serve, alone or lilly-gilded.

Not Too Dangerous

2011-05-13T21:37:00.000-07:00

Please excuse my recent absence which had a lot to do with busy-ness of life and a little to do with a certain 5 year old accidentally spilling a cup of water onto my old computer. And neglecting to tell me about it. But here I am, new computer under my fingertips, smiling. With a large back log of recipes to share!

What is it about vegan cakes?

At least the chocolate ones. They inspire extremism. It's somewhat frightening. Just do a quick online search...

"Vegan Chocolate Death Cake" (or, more humorously, "Chocolate Vegan Death Cake" What is a dead chocolate vegan, anyway?)

"BEST-ever Chocolate Cake that Happens to be Vegan"

"Die-Hard Choco-Vegan Cake"

"Wonder Pot Vegan Chocolate Cake"

"Sexy Tofu (??) Chocolate Vegan Cake"

"Better Than Sex Chocolate Vegan Cake"

Sex, drugs, rock & roll, death, mutilation and dismemberment are pervasive in the titles. I am concerned. Parental discretion advised and all that.

This is NOT one of those cakes.

It is vegan and it is good. Surprisingly good. Particularly for having no butter or cream. Or chocolate. (Or is that the problem?)
But you're not in danger of losing life, limb, or anything else if you endeavor to make or eat it.
And it's legal no matter what age without a prescription.

I do love how inventive this "cream cheese" icing recipe is... without stooping to use processed vegan "cream cheese." It's ingenious, really. I tweaked a recipe from this fun vegan site quite a bit to get the right consistency and flavor combo and I'm pleased with the result. Not real cream cheese icing, to be sure, but quite enjoyable nonetheless. Any vegan and 9 out of 10 omnivores would approve, I think.

Oh, the things I do for friends with dietary restrictions... (Love you, KW, and happiest birthday!)

Vegan Coconut-Carrot Cake with Vegan "Cream Cheese" Frosting
serves 10 (picture above is double recipe)

Coconut-Carrot Cake
makes 3 generous 8-9" layers

1/3 c coconut oil
1/2 c sugar
1/2 c brown sugar
1/3 c vegetable oil
1/3 c water
1/2 c almond or soy milk (preferably vanilla)
2 1/2 c flour
1/2 c wheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 Tbsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp allspice
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp ginger
3 c grated carrots (5 medium carrots)
1/2 c shredded sweetened coconut

Preheat oven to 350degF.

Grate carrots (a food processor makes quick work of them!).

Blend sugars with coconut oil in stand mixer until smooth paste forms. Incorporate oil, water, and "milk" in stand mixer until well-blended.

Mix together dry ingredients except carrots and coconut. Add dry to wet and blend until just incorporated. Fold in carrots and coconut.

Scoop batter into oiled, parchment-lined 8 or 9" cake pans. Smooth into even layer. Bake for 20min or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean.

Remove to cooling racks gently and allow to cool completely. Slice off any rounded top to prepare for even stacking before icing and assembling.

"Cream Cheese" Frosting
makes 2c

1/2 c vegetable shortening
1/4 tsp salt
2 Tbsp coconut oil
1 tsp apple cider vinegar
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp lemon juice
1/2 lb powdered sugar
3 Tbsp almond or soy milk (vanilla, preferably)

Whip shortening, salt, and coconut oil with paddle attachment in stand mixer until creamy and uniform consistency. Blend in vinegar, vanilla, and lemon juice. Add powdered sugar and beat until well-incorporated. Add non-dairy milk and beat until thick, but spreadable. Add more "milk" or powdered sugar to attain desired consistency.

Spread a thin layer of icing onto each layer of cake, sealing in crumbs. Spread thicker layer of icing on top only. Stack crumb-coated layers. Coat 3 layered cake with thicker layer of icing, smoothing or swirling as desired for aesthetics.

BTW, I'm not sure what was going on with my old +/-trusty point and shoot. A blue period perhaps? I think it has since recovered...

Greek Mojito

2011-04-22T17:00:00.000-07:00

If you are like me, there are few things as comforting as warmed pita with a Greek vegetarian platter, complete with dolmades, tzaziki sauce, baba ganoush, and hummus. Followed by roasted lamb and garlic chicken with orzo. And then the ever-so-sweet ending of baklavah. All served by a generously-sized Greek mama who never thinks you ate enough.

A bottle of Greek red or white is absolutely perfect with all of the above. So why mess with perfection?

I guess my insatiable desire to find cocktail pairings for every cuisine, any dinner party takes over and I become irrational. Must. Make. Fun. New. Cocktail.

So I do.
Or, in this case, I did: the Greek Mojito.

I have to admit that I used a end-run-around here. I couldn't necessarily see myself finding another fitting occasion for pouring Metaxa (Greek liquor) anytime soon after, so I approximated it. Supposedly, it's a fortified dessert wine that is something like brandy mixed with muscat. So that's what I did. Feel free to buy Metaxa if you so desire. Please don't judge me because I didn't.

This tweaked mojito is as refreshing as the original, and was quite enjoyable with our Greek appetizer platter.
Opa!

Greek Mojitos
serves 4

16 mint sprigs
2 1/2 Tbsp brown sugar
2 limes, quartered
5 oz lemon juice
6 oz Metaxa (or 3 oz each brandy and muscat dessert wine)
soda water

Divide mint and brown sugar evenly between 4 glasses. Add 2 lime wedges and lemon juice to each glass. Muddle mint, brown sugar, and quartered limes vigorously with lemon juice.

Top each with 1 1/2 oz Metaxa (or equivalent) and fill glass with ice. Top with soda water. Swirl and serve.

Rollin' in the Green

2011-04-17T13:20:00.000-07:00

Would you indulge me? Let me wax eloquent yet again about chevre? Are you sick of my obsession with goat cheese yet?

What exactly IS it about goat cheese? Is it the creamy tang, the earthy hints of grass and soil, or the minerality? It's like tasting a great wine- I swear you can taste the earth, the goatiness of it, the terrior. And, yes, I think that's a good thing! Oh, I could go on and on...

Yes, I love goat cheese so much I've started making my own, systematically trying out the varieties of goat milk I can find locally. I have not yet decided to raise a goat. YET. I suppose 5 chickens are enough for now!

As the first spears of asparagus come off the fields, snapped by our nimble fingers last weekend at "our farm" near Davis, we still enjoy (yes, yes, I will enjoy) regular deliveries of winter greens. Which have become spring greens. *sigh* Kale and chard, chard and kale, always more kale and chard. With all of the practice I think I've found and perfected my favorite new destiny for a bunch of kale: pesto!

Kale pesto... with chevre.

Yes! Brilliantly earthy and bright, this kale & chevre pesto boasts a rich velvety green color and is most wonderful on pasta, dolloped with a bit more chevre on top, of course. Heidi struck a chord of inspiration and I added an extra, simple step that I think has made this pesto sing. See what you think!

And if you know of a local, happy goat who might share some of her precious, fresh milk with me, well, please let me know.

Kale-Chevre Pesto
makes 2 c

4 cloves of garlic, peeled and sliced
1/2 medium red onion, diced
1 lb bunch of kale
1/3 c extra virgin olive oil
3/4 c chevre
sea salt & freshly ground black pepper
1/4 lemon, juiced (Meyer is particularly good)

Bring a pot of salted water to boil. Meanwhile, rinse kale clean of dirt and remove stems. Blanch kale in water for a few minutes until limp and brighter in color. Drain and shake/press off most of water.

Heat 3 Tbsp olive oil in a skillet and saute garlic and onion until soft and golden brown. Add the remainder of the olive oil and remove from heat to infuse for a moment.

Blend 1/2 c chevre with kale, oil, garlic, & onions in a food processor with salt & pepper to taste. Add juice of 1/4 of a lemon (roughly 2 tsp juice) . Blend until homogenous and creamy.

This sauces 2 lb of pasta in our home and can be refrigerated for several days. Use the 1/4 c of chevre unaccounted for thus far to top the pestoed-pasta. The pesto freezes better without the chevre, which can be incorporated into the remainder of the pesto after defrosting, immediately before serving.

French 75

2011-04-15T17:00:00.000-07:00

I was feeeeeling the French vibe.

As in the premonition of a 5 course meal that I just had to make for an upcoming dinner party.

So I made these for appetizers, followed by ahi tuna français alongside celery remoulade and a slice of this. And then my favorite French salad- a simple vinaigrette tossed with red leaf lettuce. Followed by a cheese course, of course. We finished with a fabulous lemon-raspberry tart, thanks to a guest's extensive labors.

But, oh, what cocktail to make? I thought about some type of aperitif featuring the green fairy, but I was running low on my home-infused batch of cold-mix absinthe. Quel triste!

Whatever we would imbibe clearly needed to be French-ish.
Hmmm.
And it needed to go well alongside gougères.

A bit of research led me to this. It seemed too obvious. French was in the name, after all!

I allowed the option a second consideration. The bright acidity of lemon and effervescence of champagne contrast the cheesy richness of gougères. How perfect that both are light and airy, bubbly paired with weightless bites of appetizer heaven? I liked the addition of gin for a bit of herbal complexity, too. Not too sweet, nicely sophisticated, and easy enough to make? Decision made!

So we sipped French 75s to start the evening. This beverage was created by a Parisian bartenderin 1915, supposedly so-named because it had the kick of a French 75mm artillery piece. Soixante Quinze (literally, 75) sounds even more impressive. I should learn how to pronounce that and serve this treasure again, and proudly.

It was a well-aimed hit, if I do say so myself. (neeeeeeooooow---gccccrhhhhh!)

French 75
serves 4

6 oz gin
2 oz lemon juice
1/2 oz simple syrup
4 sugar cubes
sparkling wine, chilled

Mix gin, fresh-squeezed lemon juice, and simple syrup. Chill in the freezer for 20min.

Meanwhile, place a sugar cube in each of 4 champagne flutes. Pour a generous 2 oz of the cold lemon-gin mixture into each glass. Top each off with champagne.

Jacques and Memories

2011-04-14T16:30:00.000-07:00

A lender cookbook which had been patiently collecting dust, awaiting exploration, was investigated at long last, almost a year ago, then returned to its owner. Who sadly, is now half-way across the country, having taken his cookbooks, pasta maker attachment for the Kitchen Aid, and wine cellar. All of which I miss greatly, but not as much as the owner.

Back to that now-far-off cookbook. It's authored by Jacques Pepin, a Frenchman, and his daughter. Not insignificantly, this relocated friend and his daughter both adore cooking, and both are quite good at it. And both speak French fluidly in ways I could never approximate. It's all so wonderfully endearing! And it makes me want to cry.

Nothing like making a dish of remembrance!

We had invited that family over for dinner many months ago, and I recall picking up the father/daughter tome, replete with beautiful photos of accessible, flavorful French and Mediterranean recipes, in order to glean fitting inspiration. It didn't take long. A couple of seafood dishes caught my eye. And I'd already decided to serve our favorite appetizer and this French-Peruvian cocktail to kick off the evening, so I decided to push the French theme front and center.

My sous chef and I (that sounds like a line from a song) have this soft spot for ahi tuna. You know, the barely-kissed-the-grill, sushi-grade, melts in your mouth cut of tuna. Generally, it's, served with a Japanese flair, sesame encrusted and the like. But Jacques-dear suggested tuna with a decidedly Mediterranean tapenade.

Hmm. I thought it could work.

Of course it did. I needn't have wondered. We thoroughly enjoyed it that evening.

And making this tuna tapenade again for a recent dinner party took me a few steps down memory lane. Probably no one noticed the tear-salted results. Most likely we all just laughed and enjoyed the meal and time together. But I know the truth. Food evokes powerful memories, some bittersweet alongside the salty.

Seared Tuna with Tapenade
serves 4

1/4 c pitted Kalamata Olives

1/4 c oil cured olives

2 Tbsp drained capers

3 anchovy fillets packed in oil (or 1 Tbsp anchovy paste)

1 large clove garlic, peeled

1 lb yellow fin tuna, center cut

1 Tbsp canola oil

1/2 tsp salt

Place all tapenade ingredients in the bowl of a small food processor, and process until finely chopped, but not pureed (yields about 1/2 c).

Cut the tuna into 4 equal sized pieces each 1 to 1 1/2" thick and 3" in diameter. Cover the top of each steak with 2 tablespoons of the tapenade mixture, pressing it firmly over the surface of each steak.

At serving time, preheat the oven to 180degF. Heat 1 Tbsp oil until hot in a large skillet. Place the steaks tapenade-side down in hot skillet and sprinkle the bottom with salt. Cover and cook over high heat for 1 1/2 min. Turn over, tapenade side up and cover and cook for another 1 1/2 min over medium to high heat.

Transfer the steaks to an ovenproof platter and warm them in the oven for at least 5 min (but less than 30) to desired doneness. Serve hot.

say What?

2011-03-28T19:00:00.000-07:00

I can't speak French. My tongue just doesn't DO that tongue.
This word in particular intimidates me, even if the recipe doesn't: gougère

"Goo-jehr," she says.
Hmmmm.

Can I please just call them "cheese puffs?" Or, how about "scrumptious"?

No matter the verbage, they're quite easy to make and absolutely melt in your mouth.

Calling the dough a pâte á choux probably intimidates the non-bakers and non-French-speakers to the same, depressing degree. But remember: the dough for churros is essentially the same! So if it makes you feel better (as it does me), trill your rr's contentedly to yourself as you whip up a batch of gougères.

Jacques Pépin's recipe for cheese puffs is the one for me. I defer on most French culinary matters to him and to the man who lent me his cookbook. (Hi, TexRP!) And that works pretty well for me.

Here's to a wonderful afternoon... before. C'est la vie, mes amis.

Gougères
makes 40-50 puffs

1 cup milk
5 Tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 tsp salt
1 pinch cayenne pepper
1 pinch nutmeg
1 c flour
3 large eggs
1/4 tsp paprika
1/2 c grated Parmesan cheese
1 c grated Gruyère

Bring the milk, butter, salt, cayenne, and nutmeg barely to a boil in a saucepan. Add the flour all at once, and mix vigorously with a wooden spoon until the mixture binds into a ball. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally, for about 1 minute to dry the mixture a bit. Transfer to the bowl of a food processor, let cool for 5 minutes, then process for about 5 seconds.

Add the eggs and paprika to the processor bowl, and process for 10 to 15 seconds, until blended into a sticky paste. Let this choux paste rest for 10 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 375°. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper. Reserve 1/4 c of the grated Parmesan cheese, then add the remainder and all of the Gruyere cheese to the choux paste. Stir just enough to incorporate.
Scrape dough into a large plastic bag. (Dough may be kept at room temperature or cooler for several hours and then baked immediately prior to serving.) Snip one corner off.

Squeeze out 1/2" mounds of dough onto parchment paper lined baking sheets. Continue making individual gougères, spacing them about 2-inches apart on the sheet.

Pres the tip of each down to form a smooth mound. Sprinkle a few grains of coarse salt and a little of the reserved Parmesan cheese on each gougère, pressing gently to adhere. Bake for about 30 minutes, until puffed and nicely browned and crisp.

Serve while piping hot, preferably with a nice aperitif.

Saturday Scoops - Chocolate Stout

2011-03-26T10:00:00.002-07:00

I've had such fun (amusing just myself?) creating beverage concoctions for "5 o'clock Friday" posts that I thought I might start a second such trend.

How about Saturday Scoops?
My new monthly cooking adventure has been born!

I love ice cream.
And gelato,
sorbetto,
sherbet.
You name it, I eat it. And make it.
Any time of year. Yes, ice cream is always in season!

And since I was bequeathed the KitchenAid Ice Cream Maker attachment, I've had great fun making my own "31 flavors." And though I like plain old vanilla, "pralines and cream" and "rocky road" along with the rest of them, it won't surprise you to know that I'm more of a MaD sCiEnTisT when it comes to flavors.

In that vein, I bring you the first Saturday Scoops installment: chocolate stout ice cream. As in, my household nano-brewer's oatmeal chocolate stout ice cream. I did my research on this one in advance, wary of too much water-based liquid content. I was not aiming for a Breyer's result. As a dear friend of ours quipped, back in the day, "Breyer's- we put the ice back in ice cream." Oh, no. That simply would not do.

So I reduced a precious, generously-given 12oz bottle of nanobrew down to an almost syrup. And the result was just as I'd hoped- rich, dark flavors (augmented by brown sugar), some bitterness (that's the hops shining through), and creamy texture. You can make your own sweetened condensed milk easily enough if you're opposed to the canned variety.

This ice cream pairs perfectly with toffee and chocolate sauce or a brownie with a drizzle of butterscotch. And if you don't happen to have your own live-in brewer, you can simply purchase a bottle of chocolate stout; or use a can of Guinness, in a pinch.

Chocolate Stout Ice Cream

12 oz chocolate stout beer
1/2 c brown sugar
3 egg yolks
3/4 c sweetened condensed milk
2 c cream
1/4 tsp salt

Simmer beer until reduced to roughly 1 cup. Meanwhile, whisk yolks and sugar together until thickened and pale yellow.

Mix salt into beer. Reduce heat to medium low and add sweetened condensed milk and cream. Slowly bring to a simmer.

Temper yolk mixture by slowly adding 1/4 c of the hot cream & beer mixture and whisking thoroughly. Transfer the tempered yolk mixture into the beer mixture very slowly, whisking constantly. Stir with a wooden spoon until the mixture thickens and coats the back of the spoon.

Place pot into an ice water bath and cool quickly. If the mixture has curdled at all, strain through a fine mesh strainer. Refrigerate ice cream base overnight until fully chilled.

Churn per your ice cream maker's instructions. Freeze in a sealed container for at least 2 hours to allow it to set and mature. Scoop and enjoy!

Spring!

2011-03-22T19:00:00.000-07:00

The first sign of spring is asparagus.

Not birds, not warmer temperatures, not buds on trees. At least not for locavores. It's these shoots of rich green, peeking up impertinently from the loamy soil, thickening and growing heady green crowns. Smelling of creamy, green earth, giving hope of the glories to come. The foretaste of months of plenty, of living on more than root vegetables and winter greens.

Our CSA farm holds spring, summer, and fall events that draw (increasing numbers of families & individuals) to walk through plots of the farm, meet the farmers and other seasonal eaters, ride a tractor, chase some chickens, and pick some fresh produce. This visit, we walked the rows of aspargus. We snapped them off with our fingers. We ate them raw as we walked. We steamed them at home. And we breathed deep the aroma and savored the taste of spring.

Hollandaise sauce brings back memories for me of our family's tradition of eggs benedict on Christmas morning, not thoughts of spring. But I've come to most thoroughly enjoy this sauce throughout the year. Particularly at brunch. I've found this solitary, unassuming kitchen gadget to be the key to mastering the tricky sauce- a blender!

Having the ingredients at room temperature (or warmer) is also key to not "breaking" the sauce, as is a slow immersion. It should take a good 30 seconds to slowly drizzle in the butter. Helpful hint: have a kitchen work towel handy, as you work. You, your counters, & cabinets may have a fine spattering of Hollandaise to show for your efforts before the aspargus gets more ceremoniously anointed with the remaining sauce!

Asparagus with No-Fail Hollandaise

1 lb asparagus spears, trimmed
3 egg yolks
2 Tbsp lemon juice
1/4 tsp salt
pinch of cayenne pepper
1/2 c butter
1/4 tsp smoked paprika

Bring all ingredients to room temperature.

Ready water in the bottom of a steamer pot. Steam asparagus for a few minutes until crisp tender or desired doneness.

Put egg yolks, lemon juice, salt and cayenne in blender jar. Heat butter in small pan or microwave until bubbly without burning or browning it. Place lid on blender and liquify (hi-speed blend) for 2 or 3 seconds.

Remove center section of cover, maintaining high speed. Pour in a continuous, but slow stream of hot butter. A thickened, pale yellow sauce should form. Thin, if needed, with additional lemon juice or hot water.

Note: If you aren't ready to serve it immediately, the hollandaise can be stored in a thermos which has been preheated with hot water. Pour water out immediately prior to filling thermos with the sauce.

Drizzle sauce onto steamed asparagus. Sprinkle with paprika.

Fit to Be...

2011-03-20T21:30:00.000-07:00

... Thai-ed.
AhHahahahaha! *Ahem*

I love Thai food. Truthfully, I love all varieties of Asian food. And I've dabbled in many genres- sushi rolling, potsticker stuffing, stir frying, tofu dipping, fresh spring rolling, dim sum bun steaming and the like. Even shaking up lychee beverages. But I can't say that I'd tried my hand at Thai before.

I particularly love the complexity of a good Thai curry. The light and bright lemongrass, the spicy peppers, seductive ginger, sweet and peppery basil, and creamy coconut milk. It was time to try it out.

I poked around at a few recipes online, traditional and non-traditional, and added my own flair and a few more veggies for color and health. Which, in nature, are often synonymous. We did stir fry some garlic shrimp on the side for the omnivorous among us, truth be told. But this is a great vegetarian curry for a winter night!

The green curry paste is traditionally made with fish sauce and shrimp paste, but soy sauce and salt give the saltiness of those without the meat products, for those averse to such things. The paste can be frozen and used as needed, as it makes enough for several large curry meals, blended with a can of coconut milk and a bit of extra ginger & garlic before simmering in sauteed veggies.

Vegetarian Thai Green Curry
serves 6

2 Tbsp peanut (or vegetable) oil
1 lb extra firm tofu, cut into wedges or cubes
1 red bell pepper, sliced

1 med onion, sliced
florets from 1 small head of broccoli or cauliflower
1 large sweet potato, peeled and chopped into 1/4" wedges
1 large carrot, cut on the diagonal
3 Tbsp green curry paste (recipe below)
1 can (14-ish oz) coconut milk (regular, not light!)
1/2 lb mushrooms, sliced
1/2 lb snow peas or green beans, stringed
3 Tbsp Thai basil leaves

Press tofu blocks in paper towels to remove excess water. Fry in 2 Tbsp oil, turning until golden brown on all sides.

Add extra oil to the same skillet and fry onion and strips of red bell pepper until just barely softened. Add broccoli, sweet potato, and carrot. Stir fry for 1-2 minutes. Add coconut and green curry sauce. Bring to a simmer and cover. Cook on low for 4 minutes until potatoes are soft. Add mushrooms, peas/beans, and basil. Cook uncovered until sauce thickens.

Serve over rice or wide rice noodles.

Thai Green Curry Paste

1 large stalk lemongrass, chopped
2 green chilies, seeded and sliced (Thai green chilies OR jalapenos)
4 Tbsp minced purple onion
5 cloves garlic
1/4 c sliced ginger root
1/2 c chopped fresh cilantro leaves & stems
1/2 c fresh basil (Thai basil, if available)
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp ground white pepper
1/2 tsp ground coriander
1 Tbsp soy sauce (or 3 Tbsp Asian fish sauce - nam pla)
1/2 tsp salt (or 1 tsp shrimp paste)
2 Tbsp lime juice
1 tsp brown sugar
4 Tbsp coconut milk

Blend all ingredients in a food processor or blender until smooth paste forms. Add more lime juice or coconut milk as needed to alter flavor & consistency. Store in a jar in the refrigerator for 1 week or in the freezer for months and use as needed. Serve at the table, on the side, to add more punch to the curry dish.

Ginger Ale

2011-03-18T17:00:00.000-07:00

Ginger is one amazing rhizome.

It has a tantalizing sweetness but is potently spicy. It relieves nausea, and potentially pain and fever, too. It calms, stimulates saliva, and reduces free radicals. Most wonderful of all ginger's benefits is it's versatility, demonstrated by its presence in cuisines all over the world: Asia, India, Pacific islands, Africa, the New World, and the Middle East.

I particularly like ginger ale. Ginger beer (or ale) is technically a fermented beverage made with yeasts. I decided to tackle a ginger soda first. We've been sipping on my concoction while sick and well this past month. It combines with an herbal gin for a very nice Gin&Ginger. The soda's spiciness is rather forward, but well balanced with the sweet, in stark contrast to the saccharine nature of commercial ginger sodas, which have only a shadow of the flavor for which they're named.

I am enamoured with the natural yellow color, too. With this simple infusion, I have yet one fewer reason to walk down the aisle of cans & bottles filled with corn-syrupped tinctures.

Hooray for ginger "ale"!

Ginger Soda
makes one quart

1 c sliced fresh, peeled ginger
2 strips lemon peel
3/4 c sugar
1/4 tsp allspice cloves
4 whole cloves
3 1/2 c water

Bring all ingredients to boil in a saucepan, stirring to dissolve sugar completely. Once mixture boils, remove from heat. Let rest for 1/2 hr to infuse flavors, then pour through a fine-mesh strainer, pressing to extract ginger juices.

Pour mixture into a soda-maker bottle, topping off with cold water to the fill line. Carbonate as per soda machine instructions. Alternatively, boil the above mixture to reduce to roughly 2 c liquid to make a syrup. Make ginger ale by mixing a 1:3 ratio of syrup to chilled club soda.

Draw a Straw

2011-03-15T21:45:00.000-07:00

I love cheese.
And I pity the lactose-intolerant, poor souls.
Thank God for Lactaid, right?

There's not much better than a good cheese platter served as appetizer or dessert. Or a nice, aged cheese sprinkled on pasta. Or cheddar cheese toast sandwiches on a cold, dreary day. Or chevre any time with pretty much anything!
Or cheese straws with a punch of cayenne.

Mmmm. Cheeeeeeese straaaaaaws.

They seemed like the right appetizer to go with our gumbo & jambayala for Mardi Gras, so I made a triple batch. They and were easy enough (truly!) to make in advance. Alternatively, you can freeze the dough in the shape of a log to make a slice-n-bake batch of cheese crackers as desired, because they are oh, so good hot out of the oven. BUT even served the next day they are glorious.

Yes, they all got eaten. Every last one.

Ah, cheese!

Cheese Straws
makes 3 dozen 10" straws

12 to 13 oz sharp cheddar, shredded
1 stick unsalted butter
1 1/4 c flour
1/4 c wheat flour
1 tsp kosher salt
1 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp cayenne (or more, if you like a spicy zing)
1-2 Tbsp milk

Shred cheese in food processor. Dump out cheese & switch to process blade. Add remaining dry ingredients and cheese to food processor and pulse until a crumbly meal consistency forms. Drizzle in milk slowly, pulsing until a barely cohesive dough forms (still crumbly).

Let dough rest for 10min. Preheat oven to 375 degF.

Gently knead half of dough, pressing it into a ball, then rolling out to a 10" wide rectangle, about 1/8" thick. Cut into thin strips (about 1/4" wide).

Transfer strips carefully onto parchment lined baking sheets, spaced 1/2'' apart. Bake for 15 min, until edges are golden and tips are golden brown. Remove parchment sheets to cooling racks to cool.

Once cool, these may be stored in an air-tight container.

Like a Hurricane

2011-03-06T23:30:00.001-08:00

Hurricanes.
Who dat say dey gonna try dem summa deez drinks?

Mardi Gras 2011 is tomorrow, Fat Tuesday, by the way.

So I'm going off schedule here and bringing you a 5 o'clock Monday this week. Just in case you need a good hurricane recipe for your party tomorrow. Or should you want to mix up one for solidarity with the citizens of The City Who Care Forgot (what an amazing irony that moniker is).

Having just sipped less than an ounce of one today while testing my recipe below, I believe I fully understand why the drink is so named. After a few moments of a swirly-headed, sloshy and blown-over feeling, and then Woah-I-need-food-NOW, I have decided to take car keys at the door during our Mardi Gras party on Tuesday. This drink tastes like punch but is beyond strong.

I don't think I'd ever had a Hurricane before that sip today. I'm not drawn to sweet & super-fruity drinks generally. But I do so like to eat & celebrate seasonally. And the Mardi Gras celebration traditions I'm most familiar with are New Orleans'. Though I was born & raised on the Gulf Coast, I've somehow never been to visit! Which is not to say I've never weathered a hurricane (I recall evacuations, trees and structures felled, roof damage, and the like during my childhood in Corpus Christi), but I certainly never experienced the likes of Katrina and her aftermath. Few in our country outside of The Crescent City have.

I have indirect connections to the city. My father and his Coast Guard family lived there for a time during in his youth, so I've heard stories of the city and seen pictures of my Granny & Pop dressed to the nines for Twelfth Night Balls. But I've never made a trip to enjoy beignets with cafe au lait, stay at the Pontchartrain Hotel, walk through the French Quarter, or enjoy their live jazz, much less to lend my hand at some rebuilding. I should. When I go, I seriously doubt it will be during Mardi Gras. And hopefully not during a hurricane!

Hurricane
serves 3 persons (or at least it should- be careful with this one!)

1 oz vodka
1 oz gin
1 oz rum
1 oz amaretto
1 oz triple sec
1/2 oz dark or spiced rum
1/4 ounce grenadine syrup
grapefruit juice
pineapple juice
maraschino cherries and orange slices for garnish
1/2 oz dark rum

Mix all types of alcohol and grenadine together. Pour over ice evenly between hurricane glasses or wine glasses. Top each with roughly 1/2 oz of grapefruit juice and 1/2 oz of pineapple juice.

Garnish with a drink umbrella loaded with a maraschino cherry and an orange slice.
Drink cautiously.

Mexican Hot Cocoa

2011-03-04T17:00:00.000-08:00

I promised this Mexican Hot Chocolate recipe during Sunday's churros post.
So here it is at last.

I'm so very sorry that you've had to endure eating your churros all week without their proper liquid compadre.

It's the first (but certainly not the last!) non-alcoholic beverage recipe for 5 o'clock Friday. Which doesn't mean you can't add a little somethin'-somethin'.

I made this to serve 8 in our crockpot, intitially on the high setting to bring the mixture to a nice hot temperature, then reduced to low for the duration of brunch. It was a no-fuss way to let folks serve themselves whenever they chose.

Of course, you can make it on the stovetop just as easily.

But you might want to make just the dry mix, so that you can make a cup on demand by adding a cup of hot milk. Just grind the spices, add the brown sugar and cocoa, and store in a lidded jar. Put roughly 2 Tbsp of the mix into a mug. Add a pinch of cinnamon and cayenne (in lieu of simmering with a cinnamon stick and chile pepper). Pour hot milk over the top and add a splash of vanilla extract. Stir with a cinnamon stick (or a spoon) to combine.

The spice mix in this is simultaneously complex and comforting. Add chocolate and milk and you're golden!

Mexican Hot Chocolate
serves 8

15 whole cardamom pods, split
12 whole cloves
4" cinnamon stick, broken in half
3/4 tsp whole coriander seeds
1 small nutmeg clove
1/4 tsp red pepper flakes (or 1" of a dried pepper)
3/4 c unsweetened cocoa powder
3/4 c (packed) dark brown sugar
1 vanilla bean, split
1 dried red chile pepper
1 star anise
8 c whole milk

Combine cardamom seeds (several small black seeds are in each pod), cloves, 2" half of cinnamon stick, nutmeg clove, and red pepper in a spice grinder. Grind until a uniform coarse powder forms, removing any large pieces. Combine with cocoa powder and brown sugar.

In a large pot, combine dry mix (above) with 1 split vanilla bean, 1 whole chile, star anise, and milk. Bring to a simmer, stirring frequently. Scrape vanilla bean seeds into the mix. Reduce heat to low and ladle into mugs.