Always Order Dessert

Sour Cherry Financier

2009-07-13T22:36:00.004-04:00

Don't you wish you could just reach in and grab one of these? I stayed up late ogling them the first time I made them. And when I brought them into work the next day, my coworkers actually made "ooh" and "ahh" noises as they crowded around the dish, taking turns plucking a little cake or two up by the stems.

I love cherries and almonds together. There is something about the combination of scents that makes me all swoony and sends my head spinning. And the taste, well...would you hate me if I called it ambrosial?

The strange thing is that it took me a while to recognize exactly what it was that was sending me into such a tizzy. Fortunately, I had the pleasure of encountering the sniffing box. Or rather, "sniffing boxes," since I'm pretty sure that's not what they are actually called. I learned about this special box back when I lived in Florence and had to take a beginning sommelier class as part of my culinary program.

To be completely honest, that class was a bit of a joke. It was scheduled on Thursday mornings at 9 AM, which in theory might seem fantastic, but in reality is a terrible time for a wine class because it absolutely guarantees two things: The first is that your first glass of wine for the day will be poured and consumed around 9:15 AM. The second is that you will be useless for the complete rest of the day. By the second month, I was already loathing that morning wine class, which was made all the more unfortunate by the fact that Wednesday nights were THE going out night in Florence. And there is nothing worse than having to spend three hours sniffing and sipping wine when you've been out all the previous night sniffing and sipping tequila.

But I digress, because the real point here was the sniffing box, which was filled with little jars of unlabeled smells meant to help us "cultivate our scent palate" and "develop our nose". They actually used these absurd phrases. Each little jar, about the size of a baby carrot, was filled with a single smell. There was vanilla, banana, black cherry, grass, oak, even a little jar called "rain." Gross smells too, but we won't talk about those. The funny thing is that even though most of us think we know what things smell like, in actuality we don't. At least not until we're presented with a special box full of isolated scents. Even something as simple as a banana, for example, doesn't smell like just a banana. It smells like the peel and the earth, and sometimes even hints of your grocery store produce section. And this is the case for just about everything. At least, according to the "sniffing box."

My nose, un-cultivated as it may have been, gravitated towards one little jar in particular. It was bitter almond, though I didn't know until I'd asked, and when I sniffed it, I instantly felt that swoony feeling come over me. It was the first time I'd actually recognized the scent that I'd always loved in hand lotions and Italian Rainbow cakes and the amaretto liquor my dad sometimes ordered after dinner. I remember mentioning something this revelation to our teacher, a magenta-haired former-flight attendant (if you can believe that), but her blank smile and nod of her head assured me that she neither cared nor got it

Fortunately, I did, and I think I've spent the proceeding six years baking that glorious scent. If you also get it, I suggest you make these little cakes. Ground toasted almonds are blended with soft white sugar, egg whites, and butter that's been browned to a pecan-like toastiness. A delicate sour cherry is tucked into the center and the whole thing bakes until slightly golden. They're good warm, but--like so many things--actually taste better the next morning after they've had a bit of time to get to know each other, I suppose. And the scent, well that's understood.

I have to confess that there is a bit of a trick to making these. The first time I made them I used a paring knife to delicately remove the pit without pulling out the stem. It took a bit of patience and stained the tips of my fingers a lovely shade of lipstick pink, but is really the best way to go. I proved this the next time when I attempted to repeat the process with a cherry pitter, gingerly angling it so as to push the pit through without pulling out the stem. It's not really possible that way; the pitter is much too violent and 3 out of 5 times, the stem will be thrust through along with the stone. (Of course, if you have a better way that does not involve maraschino cherries, please tell me in the comments...)

You can use any kind of cherry you'd like for these, but I think sour cherries work best because the tartness plays down the marzipan-like sweetness of the almond cake. If your short on cherries, perfectly in-season raspberries will also work quite nicely.

Now, about that recipe...

Sour Cherry Financier

1 stick unsalted butter
1 cup powdered or caster sugar
1/2 cup almond meal
5 tablespoons all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 large egg whites, room temperature
1 teaspoon pure almond extract
24 sour cherries, pitted from the bottom so the stem remains attached(process described above)

1. Preheat your oven to 375ºF. Grease a 24ct mini muffin pan with butter. Set aside

2. Spread the almond meal in a single layer on a baking sheet and toast in the oven until slightly golden. Let cool.

3. Melt the butter in a small saucepan on medium-low heat, stirring occasionally until the solids separate and turn lightly toasted. The butter will take on a fragrant, nutty aroma, and a golden, honey color.

4. Use a fine strainer lined with cheesecloth or (in a pinch) paper towel, to strain out the solids. Reserve the clear golden butter, and let cool to room temperature.

5. In the base of your electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, mix the sugar, flour, salt, and almond meal until well combined. Add the egg whites, 1/3 at a time, until fully incorporated. Add the almond extract and the browned butter and beat until smooth and kind of gluey but silky.

6. Use a tablespoon to measure out a tablespoon of batter per muffin tin. Gently place one pitted cherry in the center with the stem poking straight up.

7. Bake at 375ºF for 12-15 minutes each, or until slightly crisp and golden brown on the edges. Cool in the pan for ten minutes before gently pulling them out (don't hold them by the stems while they're still hot) and letting them cool on a wire rack.

Carrot Pulp Cake with Maple-Orange Cream Cheese Frosting

2009-07-11T00:40:00.002-04:00

Earlier this year I tried to make a soup out of green apple peels left over from a flurry of apple cake making. I had the best of intentions and, for a brief while, envisioned inventing something splendid. The results (I'm sad to say) were actually quite disastrous. I might even go as far as calling them disgusting. We tossed the whole (stinky) pot in the toilet and pretended like the whole thing never happened.

I still have dreams of using my apple peels for something other than filling the trash, but until that day comes, I can at least comfort myself with my ability to use carrot pulp.

I bought a juicer a few weeks ago. It was all part of this 101 Goals in 1001 Days challenge that I've put myself up to. Basically, I just made a long list of thing both big and small that I would like to accomplish within the next almost-3 years. I've actually already knocked out a few of them already, one of these being to purchase a juicer and develop a habit of making my own fresh juices. I'd always been a bit hesitant to do so because of horror stories about how difficult juicers are to clean and the hefty price, but I somehow lucked upon a fantastic little compact model that cleans easily and which only cost a shade over 70 dollars--the same amount I'd previously spent each week on daily 10-dollar green juices from the organic market.

The thing is that, just like with those apple peels, I was finding myself overcome with guilt at the amount of delicious and nutritious pulp that I was tossing out each day. So I started figuring out things to do with it. One of the most obvious (and delicious!!!) tips was to turn the pulp leftover from carrot juice into carrot pulp cake. I gave it a shot (using my favorite stand-by recipe that I've been making since I was about 14)and came up with a pretty fantastic and perfectly textured version. The trick to using pulp from which all the juice has been extracted, is to replace the missing water content. I used unsweetened applesauce to supplement, but I suspect that crushed pineapple, yogurt, or even a mashed banana could work as well.

One thing to note is that the frosting for this is actually a bit runny. I like it that way because when it finally does set (after a night in the fridge), the result is just luxuriously creamy without being all that heavy or too sweet. To help yourself, make the frosting first and then let sit in the fridge while you mix, bake, and cool the cake. Or you can add another cup or two of powdered sugar to help thicken it; just note that this will also make it much sweeter.

Oh, and if you're wondering. This cake can also be made using plain old shredded carrots instead of juicer pulp. Just eliminate the apple sauce and you'll be good to go. If you like nuts in your cake (I don't) these can also be added to the batter, or used to decorate the sides of the cake.

Carrot Pulp Cake with Maple-Orange Cream Cheese Frosting

Ingredients

For the cake:
2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon ground cinnamon (Vietnamese, if you have it)
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 tablespoon finely grated fresh ginger
1 cup granulated white sugar
1 cup light brown sugar
1 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil (use a nice fruity kind)
4 large eggs
4 cup carrot pulp from juicer
1 cup unsweetened applesauce

For the frosting:
16 ounces (2 packs) cream cheese
1/2 stick softened butter
1 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons real maple syrup
1 tablespoon fresh orange juice
zest of 1 whole orange, finely grated
3 cups powdered sugar

Make the frosting first:

1. Using the electric mixer, beat cream cheese and butter in a large bowl until combined. Add the heavy cream and whip until soft and fluffy. Beat in the maple syrup, orange juice and zest. Blend well then press a piece of plastic wrap over the frosting and place in the fridge to cool while you make the cake.

For cake:
1.Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter two 9-inch-diameter cake pans. Line bottom of pans with waxed or parchment paper. Butter and flour sides of pan and tap out extra.

2. Sift together the flour, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg in a medium bowl.

3. In the base of your electric mixture with the whisk attachment, whisk the sugar and oil until combined. Beat the eggs in one at a time.

4. Switch to the paddle attachment, and and add the flour mixture until all combined.

5. Add the carrot pulp and ginger and continue mixing. Divide the batter between prepared pans and bake for 40 minutes or until a tester inserted in center comes out clean. Flip the cakes out onto a wire rack and let cool completely.

When the cakes have cooled:

Place 1 cake layer on platter. Spread with 3/4 cup icing. Top with second layer. Spread remaining icing over entire cake. Let chill before serving so that the frosting has time to set (about 1-2 hours)

Quenepas

2009-07-08T22:26:00.005-04:00

Quenepas:Mamon "Macro", by Luis M. Meléndez.

I think I was nine the year I went to Puerto Rico with my dad for his friend's son's Christening. My mom and brother stayed home for reasons I can't remember, so for two weeks it was just the two of us, exploring the island and eating. Like me, my father likes to snack and feast, and thinks about his next meal midway through the current one. He gladly handed dollar bills out the car window to panhandlers on the highway selling plantain chips and bags of cucas, hard round cookies about the size of my palm that tasted of ginger and shortening with a hint of exhaust. They're the kind of cookies you gnaw on instead of chew, and I could gnaw through a bag for the better part of an afternoon while driving across the island.

We were heading east towards El Yunque, the lush tropical rainforest where my dad's hippie friend would be Christening his son in a river, because on this island even the hippies are Catholics. I wore an orange bathing suit that had reached its final summer, the fabric having grown thin and pilly from chlorine and rough concrete pool walls. The plastic fastener on the back had also grown loose and popped open repeatedly, but I didn't care because I was nine and had been brought to a real river in a real jungle to swim and play with cousins I only barely knew. We climbed huge boulders slick with vegetation, and jumped into the fresh water. Accustomed to pools, at first I squirmed at the thought of fish swimming between my toes in the murky depths, but soon shrugged it off after the third, fourth, fifth jump. The adults weren't really watching us, though they weren't far. Someone discovered a vine that dropped thick and strong from overhead and we grabbed it and swung and dropped in.

In the middle of the afternoon, we broke for the ceremony, and stood by watching as the baby's head was gently washed with three handfuls of fresh water from the river. One for the Father. One for the Son. One for the Holy Spirit. We broke into applause and were released once again. I lay on a boulder with a book, lapping up sun like a lizard and allowing myself to be interrupted only for the occasional treats my father offered--codfish fritters, flaky turnovers filled with cheese, and a bowl filled with quenepas.

Quenepas were always served with a warning. The tough outer shell bursts easily between your teeth with just the slightest pressure revealing a slick, fleshy pulp clinging to a pit. The texture feels almost inappropriate, but the fruit tastes of sweet lime and roses. Eating it is dangerous, since the smooth ball can easily slip down a throat, but we'd been eating them since forever and brushed off the warnings as we sucked on the juicy pulp. After a while, the tannins in the shell left the tips of our tongues feeling like they, too, had been sucked on.

Quenepas are everywhere in Puerto Rico, but in New York they're rare. So I tucked a bag of them among sandy shorts and t-shirts just before flying back. They didn't scan things quite as carefully then, and the seeded branch made it through two airports undisturbed. Back in school I told the class about the river, laying out smooth stones that I'd pulled out the water and passing out one smooth lime green fruit to each of my friends. The teacher, a substitute with a puff of yellow hair and a southern accent, pronounced the names strangely, with a soft y and long a's, and said the word "baptism" like she'd never of such a thing. For a moment I questioned whether it was I who'd made the mistake; a wrong translation, maybe, or some kind of cultural difference. But the kids understood, and I knew that it was just her.

Years later I left my office in the afternoon mug of August to find myself standing in front of a box of them. Tiny green limes with just a hint of bruise all clustered on branches. The vender stared at me oddly as I hungrily shoveled large handfuls into the bag he'd given me. I brought six pounds back to my desk, dropping the pile excitedly before the coworkers who stared at me just as oddly. Stories of river and orange bathing suits tumbled out of my mouth as I showed them the way the delicate shell burst between my teeth.

"Be careful," I warned, when they finally lifted one up to their mouths. "They're dangerous."

We're having a picnic...and you're invited!

2009-07-05T13:30:00.009-04:00

This morning I woke up excited about a plan I'd conjured up while sleeping. For a long time I've been wanting to host a meetup event for all the fantastic food bloggers, writers, and chefs I've met online via this blog and Twitter. I envisioned a kind of fabulous Woody Allen-style dinner party with delicious food and even more delectable conversation, but given the size constraints of my (and just about every) New York City apartment, it wasn't really feasible...until now!!! Last night, somewhere in the midst of dreamland, the answer came to me: a potluck picnic in that shared backyard known as Central Park!

I picked a spot not far from the entrance at 103rd street and Central Park West that is usually pretty calm and so pretty it looks like it was ripped out of that Seurat painting. Last year around this time we hosted a picnic there for some of my friends and it was a fantastic success, so I knew it could work. It's just a little bit down and to the right from the 103rd Street entrance, by the lovely weeping willow-line pond known as "The Pool." We'll spread out blankets, bring a dish or two to share (homemade or from a tasty local eatery), a selection of beverages (byo, please) and have a lovely day of edible splendor in the grass. Click here to read more about the spot: http://www.centralparknyc.org/site/PageServer?pagename=virtualpark_northend_thepool

Now, how does that sound for a plan?

If you're interested in joining us (even if you're just a maybe for now), you can do so right on my sidebar by clicking on that nifty little widget, email me at nanditablogs (at) gmail.com, or head over to the invitation page to RSVP.

Oh! And if you have a blog or are on Twitter, I'd love it if you would help me spread the word about the picnic. All food-lovers are welcome, and the more the merrier! And you don't have to actually be from NY--as long as you can make it to the park that day, we'd love to have you!

Here are the details:

What: A potluck picnic in NYC's Central Park
When: July 25, 2009 1pm - 5pm (or later!)
Where: The Pool in Central Park, 103rd Street & Central Park West
Who: Food bloggers, Food writers, chefs, eaters, readers, all are welcome!
Why: To eat, meet, share, and relax
RSVP by emailing me at nanditablogs (at) gmail.com or clicking here

And the winner is...

2009-07-05T12:40:00.006-04:00

Thank you to all who entered the book giveaway. I got some great book recommendations and I'm excited to announce the winner of the four books. The lucky reader (as chosen by a randomly selected number) is:

Comment #9, or Hannah of The Daily Etsian!!!

A big congratulations to Hannah! Once I get your mailing address I'll be sure to pop your books in the mail. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks again to everyone who entered. Be sure to check back often for more giveaways. You can also follow me on Twitter at @nandita to stay informed about other fun contests.

Rhubarb Cherry Rosewater Crumble

2009-07-03T12:55:00.002-04:00

We brought home a billion stalks of rhubarb the other day. It was really more like eight, but if you've ever carried a bag of long, thick, heavy stalks of rhubarb then I know you know what I mean. I bought the rhubarb with the intention of making a pie, but that didn't quite work out. The truth is that I'm not really committed when it comes to pie. I can make crust, but it bores me and I don't really even like it, to tell you the truth. That's why when the day came to make it, all I wanted to do was lay about with a book and a tall glass of coconut water while the fan blew cool and breezy on me. And as much as I tried to nudge and talk myself into it, I just wouldn't budge.

So I made a lazy pie instead. Or a crumble, if you prefer to be more exact.

Crumble is something between a crisp and a cobbler. It's basically just a dish full of pie filling, with a sweet, crumbly, slightly cakey layer of crust on top. When you pull it from the oven it oozes and bubbles and is all but guaranteed to burn the tips of your fingers when you set it down to cool. Your tongue too if, like me, you're unable to resist tasting a big spoonful of that still-too-hot-to-eat sweet.

This crumble gets its tingly mouthful of flavor from a combination of tart rhubarb, sweet cherries, and just a dash of rosewater. The marriage of flavors is perfect and the not-too-runny and not-too-thick texture puts those gooey canned fillings to shame.

If you've never tasted rhubarb before, I can actually relate. The truth is that I've really only tasted rhubarb twice in my life. The first was about eight years ago when I was an intern/office assistant at a Capital Hill nonprofit in DC. It was an office of the conservative sort, which meant it was mostly men in bow ties and navy sports jackets who drank and flirted and made impassioned impromptu speeches about Ronald Reagan and states' rights and bourbon. It's also where I met the lovely, lovely Moe who was the only other girl in the office and technically my "boss" at the time, though really we were more like war buddies who relied on each other in the midst of all that conservative testosterone.

The rhubarb came in one day in the early summer when Moe and a few of the peripheral women in the office (Wives, mainly. And some roommates.) got together for a day of pie baking during which they tested various crust recipes and fillings.

The results were brought into the office for us to try, and though I'm sure they were all lovely, the one I remember most was strawberry rhubarb. Something about that sweet and tart combination that made me feel like I'd been zapped back in time to one of those garden socials I'd read about in those silly young adult novels. That day, I kind of filed that lovely taste away with the intention of making something, but it wasn't until now that I finally followed through.

This recipe is really easy to follow. Just toss together and bake, really. If you don't have cherries, feel free to substitute strawberries or raspberries or whatever you happen to have hanging around. You can replace the rosewater with lemon juice or orange blossom water or even just a bit of vanilla if you like.

Rhubarb, Cherry, and Rosewater Crumble

Filling:
4-5 big stalks of rhubarb, cut into even pieces about 1" each
2 cups of sweet cherries, pitted and halved
1 tablespoon rosewater
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
Pinch of salt

Topping:
1 1/3 cups all-purpose unbleached flour
1/2 cup almond meal or other ground nut meal, toasted
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup light brown sugar
Zest of one lemon
1 stick of melted butter

1. Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients for the topping (flour, ground almonds, baking powder, sugar, zest, and salt). Pour in the melted butter and use your fingers to combine until crumbly. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, prepare your filling by tossing together the rhubarb, cherries, rosewater, lemon juice, salt, and cornstarch. Make sure everything is evenly distributed.

3. Spread the fruit out evenly in a 9" square baking pan or casserole dish, including any juices that the fruit may have released. Top with the the crumble topping, making sure to distribute it as evenly as possible.

4. Place your baking pan on a baking sheet (this tends to bubble while cooking so this will save you some sticky oven clean-up) and bake for 1 hour or until the topping is golden and the filling has bubbled through in parts.

Let cool slightly before eating. To store, wrap with plastic wrap and keep in the fridge.

Blueberry Muffins

2009-07-02T10:00:00.001-04:00

As much as I love homemade everything, I occasionally get cravings for those not-so-homemade treats of my youth. This week it was Dunkin' Donuts blueberry muffins. I used to LOVE those things growing up. Occasionally on the way to school, my mom would pull into the DD parking lot and my little brother and I would race in with only five minutes to get a little something for breakfast. I would invariably get the blueberry muffin because I was a little bit in love with the crunchy sugar crystals on top of the muffin.

It's probably been about 8 years since I stepped inside a Dunkin' Donuts. When I went off to college in DC, I had to forget about them since they're nowhere near as plentiful in the District (especially not Foggy Bottom and Dupont Circle) as they are in NJ. One of my best college friends, Looney, was from Boston and had also grown up on the wonders of Dunkin' Donuts and agreed with me that everything they made was better than that Starbucks place...

Fast-forward to last week. I wasn't feeling too hot and suddenly all I wanted to eat was blueberry muffins. I hunted in vain for a copycat recipe, and failing that, adapted a Martha Stewart recipe I found. It wasn't quite right; a bit softer than I remember and I didn't have the thick sugar crystals for the top (I keep meaning to buy those!), but they satisfied the craving.

I made a dozen, hoping to have enough for the week, but within 2 days they were all gone. The culprit? My boyfriend, who gobbled down two as soon as they came out of the oven, and when I offered to pack him one to take to the office said "Oh yeah...I'll take these three big ones." Needless to say, come photographing time, I was only left with this little guy...

Blueberry Muffins
Makes 12

Ingredients
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for pan
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups fresh blueberries
1 cup white granulated sugar
3 large eggs
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
zest of 1/2 lemon
1/2 cup whole milk
2 tablespoons sugar in the raw or decorating sugar crystals (optional)

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Generously butter and flour a standard 12-cup muffin pan. In a medium bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Working over the bowl, toss blueberries in a fine sieve with about 1 1/2 teaspoons flour mixture to lightly coat (this will keep the berries afloat in your muffin, instead of letting them settle down to the bottom); set aside the flour mixture and the blueberries.

2. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream your softened butter and 1 cup sugar on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, beating until combined. Mix in vanilla and lemon zest.

3. With the mixer on low speed, add reserved flour mixture, beating until just combined. Add milk, beating until just combined. Do not overmix. Using a rubber spatula, fold in the blueberries. Divide batter evenly among the prepared muffin cups. If desired, sprinkle sugar crystals on top of muffin batter.

4. Bake, rotating pan halfway though, until muffins are golden brown and a cake tester inserted in the center of one muffin comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack to cool 10 minutes. Turn muffins on their sides in their cups, and let cool. Serve warm or at room temperature

To store: Wrap muffins individually in parchment paper and keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days. If you want to save muffins longer than that, wrap individually in plastic wrap and freeze. To defrost, remove one muffin and leave on the counter overnight, microwave for 20 seconds, or split and toast in a toaster oven or toaster.

Win Four Delicious Food Books!

2009-06-27T12:40:00.005-04:00

I've spent the past few weeks cleaning out my apartment and trying to do away with as much clutter as possible. I've donated bags and bags of clothing, and sold off a ton of stuff at a stoop sale. I even joined a fantastic site called Paperpbackswap.com that lets you trade books with strangers from all over the country. I guess that's not really helping since I'm getting books back, but at least I'm not spending any more money!

To further help these efforts, I've decided to do a little book giveaway. On my other blog I'm giving away four fantastic novels and memoirs, but here I figured I'd do something a little bit more edible. I've collected four yummy food-related books that I know you guys will love. The books are:

Broccoli, and Other Tales of Food and Love, by Lara Vapnyar (Fiction. A clever collection of sad and funny short stories about Russian immigrants who seek solace in food. Great recipes with each story and the directions are probably the most entertaining part!)

Climbing the Mango Trees, A Memoir of a Childhood in India, by Madhur Jaffrey (Memoir. A luscious tale by the brilliant cookbook writer and actress that will send you running to the kitchen. With delicious traditional recipes.)

Toast, by Nigel Slater (Memoir. Nigel Slater’s truly extraordinary story of a childhood remembered through food. In each chapter, as he takes readers on a tour of the contents of his family’s pantry—rice pudding, tinned ham, cream soda, mince pies, lemon drops, bourbon biscuits—we are transported....)

The Adventures of Food, Edited by Richard Sterling (Essay Anthology. Wonderful collection of essays from great food writers about adventures encountered while traveling around the world.)

To enter to win them, all you have to do is one (or all 3!) of the following:

1.) Leave a comment telling me either what book you're reading now or what you like to do when it's time to organize your shelves. That will get you one entry.

2.) Follow me on twitter (@nandita) and tweet a link about this contest then come back here to say you did it (with a link so I can see it). If you're already following me, just tweet about the contest and then leave another comment telling me you did. That will get you a second entry.

3.) Post about this contest on your blog, website, or Facebook page (and then let me know you did). That will get you a third entry.

The winner will be chosen randomly using a random number generator. You must include your email or twitter name with your entry so that I can contact you. If I can't find a way to contact the winner, then a second entry will be chosen. Contest is open to everyone who is not related to me. It's OK if you live outside the US--we'll find a way to get the books to you if you win. Maximum 3 entries per person. All entries must be in by July 4th, 11:59 PM EST.

Good Luck!!

Creamy Asparagus Soup w/ Bacon & Asparagus Tip Garnish

2009-06-16T17:08:00.001-04:00

When we got back from Aruba a few weeks ago, there wasn't much in our fridge. Just before leaving I'd dutifully cooked my way through the majority of what we had then tossed out anything I suspected would spoil before we got back. Had it not been for the work farmer's market they hold in our cafeteria every Wednesday, our first dinner back would have likely been scrambled eggs. But fortunately, I was able to snag a beautiful (and huge!) bunch of local purple asparagus to turn into delicious soup.

Soup might seem like an odd choice for a summer meal, but this Creamy Asparagus Soup is actually quite perfect. It comes together easily and requires minimal time in front of the stove. Even better, it travels well and reheats even better, so you can make a batch early in the week for quick lunches or meals, or bring the leftovers into work. (Also, when you think about it, it really hasn't been much of a summer, has it?)

I started this soup with bacon. OK, ok, I confess. I start just about *every* soup with bacon. Just a few strips snipped into small pieces with scissors or a knife and browned at the bottom of my Dutch oven. I scooped out the crispy pieces and set them aside and added minced onion, garlic, and shallots to the bacon fat to saute for a few minutes. (Feel free chop coarsely instead of mincing. This soup will soon be pureed, and the beauty of a pureed soup is that you can be really lazy and haphazard with your chopping. No one cares. It will cook just the same and you'll blend it all up anyway.) Then in went the asparagus pieces (with tips reserved for garnish). I topped it off with some chicken stock and let it cook for a bit just until the asparagus was softened. I pureed everything with my immersion blender (I love that thing so much, I just might make it my maid of honor when the time comes!). A generous glug of cream to round things out and some salt and pepper to season. And that's it! Serve in these ridiculously adorable bowls with handles and top with generous sprinkles of bacon and asparagus tips.

Mmmm...don't you love summer soup?

Creamy Asparagus Soup

Ingredients:
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 Strips bacon
2 pounds asparagus
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large shallot, chopped
6 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1/2 to 3/4 cup heavy cream
Kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper

Directions:
1. Heat the olive oil in a medium sized dutch oven. Add the bacon pieces and let cook over medium heat until crisp. Remove the bacon pieces and reserve, leaving the bacon fat and oil in the pot.

2. Add the chopped onions and shallots. Saute for about 5 - 10 minutes or until the onions and shallots turn slightly caramelized.

3. While the onions are cooking, prepare your asparagus. Trim and discard the fibrous portion of the asparagus (about 1 inch at the base). Cut the asparagus tips and set them aside. Cut the asparagus stalks into 1-inch segments and reserve.

4. Add the asparagus stalks to the onions and saute for one minute.

5. Pour in the vegetable or chicken broth and let simmer for about 15 minutes.

6. While the asparagus simmers, small saucepan with a few cups of water to boil and quickly blanch the asparagus tips by dropping into the boiling water and letting cook for 2 minutes. Drain and immediately rinse with cold water and set aside. (This can also be done in the microwave)

7. Use an immersion (or regular) blender to puree the soup until creamy. Add the cream to your taste and season with salt and pepper.

8. To serve, ladle the soup into bowls and garnish with generous sprinkles of the reserved asparagus tips and the crisped bacon bits.

Mini Crab Cakes with Cilantro-Lime Aioli

2009-05-13T11:41:00.008-04:00

These little crab cakes were the first to disappear at the dinner party I hosted Saturday evening. Based on a Bon Appetit recipe I spotted in the April 2009 issue, the crab cakes are assembled by layering bread crumb mixture and a savory crab filling in mini muffin tins. They are baked instead of fried, and can be prepared ahead of time—a godsend when it’s 30 minutes until the guests arrive and you’ve yet to hop in the shower.

Since I found the original results a bit plain as an appetizer, I put together a cilantro-lime aioli to drizzle over the tops before serving. I made my aioli from scratch in the food processor with egg yolks and vegetable oil, but in a pinch you can blend a cup of prepared mayo with a bunch of cilantro, a generous squeeze of lime, and two garlic cloves. Blitz them in your blender or processor for a minute then serve. The result is similar and the color will grab everyone’s attention. Leftovers make a natural addition to your weekday sandwiches.

Mini Crab Cakes with Cilantro-Lime Aioli
Adapted from Bon Appetit, April 2009
If lump crab stretches your budget too much, feel free to replace with claw meat. It’s usually half the price and the flavor and texture will be similar in a recipe like this. Avoid the temptation to use imitation crab (or “krab”) as it’s loaded with preservatives, artificial color, and sugar.

Ingredients
8 oz Neufchâtel or cream cheese, room temperature
3/4 cup grated Pecorino cheese
1 large egg
1/4 cup plain Greek-style yogurt such as Fage or Oikos
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
4 teaspoons plus 2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives, divided
1/4 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
6 oz fresh lump crabmeat, picked over and coarsely shredded
1 cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs) or plain, unseasoned breadcrumbs
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted, plus more for pans
Fresh chives, cut into 1” pieces
Cilantro-lime aioli (recipe below)

2 mini muffin pans

Directions
In the bowl of your electric mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the cream cheese until smooth. Add 1/4 cup of the Pecorino and the egg; beat until incorporated. Beat in the yogurt, zest, 4 teaspoons chopped chives, salt, and spices. Fold in the crabmeat. This can be made up to 1 day ahead (just keep chill and covered in the rerigerator)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Generously butter 2 mini muffin pans. Toss the breadcrumbs with 1/2 cup of Pecorino and 2 tablspoons of chopped chives. Drizzle 1/4 cup melted butter and mix until evenly moistened.

Press 1 rounded teaspoon of panko into the bottom of your prepared muffin tins. Top with 1 tablespoon of crab filling. Sprinkle with more panko until it is full covered. Continue until you have used all the bread crumbs and all the fillings

Bake the crab cakes until golden on top and slightly puffed, about 30 minutes. Cool in pans for 5 minutes, then use a skewer or knife to gently loosen the cakes and remove from the pan. Arrange on baking sheets and let stand at room temperature. Rewarm in 350 degree oven for 6 minutes before serving.

Arrange on serving tray and drizzle each crab cake with 1 teaspoon of aioli dressing. Top with two crisscrossed chives

Cilantro-Lime Aioli
This aioli is a brilliant addition to seafood, but can also be used in sandwiches or over grilled chicken

Ingredients
1 large egg yolk, room temperature
Juice of half a lime
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard (not course grained)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 garlic cloves
1 bunch cilantro, washed, trimmed of the stem bottoms, and patted dry
Kosher salt

Directions
Add the egg yolk to the bowl of your food processor with the blade attachment. Whisk in lime juice and mustard.

In a separate bowl, combine the oils and then add the oil mixture in a slow steady trickle through the opening in your processor while the blade is whisking constantly. Continue until all the oil is incorporated and the mixture has emulsified (thickened to a creamy consistency).

Add the garlic cloves and cilantro in small bunches, allowing it all to be processed and incorporated. Season with kosher salt to taste.

Chill, covered, until ready to use.

"Let them eat (onion) brioche"

2009-05-07T00:00:00.003-04:00

I never realized that whole Marie Antoinette thing was really about brioche. Everyone knows that she never really uttered that phrase, but did you know that it was mistranslated to begin with? It wasn't cake that the poor were dismissively told to eat, but brioche. Rich, buttery, golden brioche. When you think about it, it seems even meaner, doesn't it?

Brioche, after all, is the rich man's bread. Enriched with eggs, butter, and sugar; ingredients out of reach for most peasants. Ingredients that still make me wince as I add them to my cart today! The different variations of it are even defined as "poor, middle class, and rich" based on the quantities of butter included in the dough. It's really no wonder the girl lost her head...

My version really is a "rich" brioche that will all but make *you* lose your head! With the maximum butter content, plus a heaping serving of caramelized onions. I made this bread when I was sick and home from work and bored out of my head. Though I could not smell and could barely taste, I wanted to make something. We had frozen burgers in the fridge, mushrooms for sauteeing, stinky Stilton, but no bread.

So I made bread.

This recipe started out lovely and perfect on the blog, Bread Baby. I made few changes--really I just upped the amount of butter, used heavy cream instead of milk, and red onions since they were all I had. I split the risen dough into 8 4oz rolls instead of one big loaf and sprinkled sesame seeds on half of them.

It took barely any time or energy to prepare the dough (trust me, I had little of either). I popped them in the oven to bake just a few minutes after Eugene got home from the gym. By the time he got out of the shower, the aroma of caramelized onions and freshly baked bread had filled the apartment. It may have actually been the first thing my stuffy nose was able to detect that week.

The rolls were perfect with the burgers! The caramelized onion in the bread and the buttery richness really added a fantastic layer to them. The next morning, the kitchen still had that incredible aroma of the freshly baked rolls, and the temptation was too much to resist. We toasted the leftovers and filled them with smoked salmon, raw onions and cream cheese for a perfect little breakfast sandwich. Divided into even smaller portions (perhaps 2.5 oz), I expect these would also make great little dinner rolls.

Onion Brioche Hamburger Buns
Adapted from Bread Baby

**This recipe makes about 16 full-size hamburger buns**

4 1/2 tsp instant yeast
1/2 cup lukewarm water (105 - 115 degrees)
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 1/4 cup butter at room temp
4 eggs (beaten)
3 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp salt
7 cups flour (plus more if necessary)
1 minced red onion
Semolina or cornmeal (for dusting)
1 egg yolk, beaten (for egg wash)
Sesame seeds (optional)

Pour the cream into a small saucepan and heat slightly until it just bubbles, then turn off heat. Add the butter and let it melt with the cream as it cools.

In a medium skillet, melt 1 tbsp of butter and saute the minced onion until it is soft and smells rich and lightly caramelized. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.

Add the yeast, lukewarm water, and sugar into the base of your mixer and whisk briefly until it dissolves. Let sit for a couple minutes until the mixture starts to bubble a bit.

Add the warm cream, eggs, and flour to the mix and combine with the dough hook just for a minute.

Add the salt.

Now continue to knead with the dough hook for about 10 minutes, adding more flour if necessary until the dough is silky and only slightly tacky (but not incredibly sticky). It should clear the sides, but still stick to the bottom a bit like a dough tornado.

Add the cooled and sautéed onions and knead into the dough well so they are evenly distributed.

Remove the dough and form into a large bowl. Place into a large bowl and cover loosely with plastic wrap and a clean towel. Set in a warm, draft-free spot to rise for approximately 1 hour or until doubled.

Poke the dough gently to release any air. Reshape into a ball and let rise for another 45 minutes to an hour.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Sprinkle two large baking sheets with a bit of semolina or cornmeal

After the second rise, divide the dough into equal 4 oz pieces (about 2/3 the size of what you want your final burger bun to look like). Use your hands to shape into little smooth balls by pulling all the dough down and pinching on the bottom. Place these on the semolina-dusted baking sheet, seam side down and press slightly to flatten a bit. Keep the rolls about 2” apart if you want them to bake separately or only about 1” apart if you would like the sides to touch while baking for that “pull apart” look that store buns usually have. Continue with all the remaining dough.

Take the final egg yolk and beat it gently with 3 tablespoons of lukewarm water. Use a pastry brush to gently brush the egg wash over the buns (this will give them that bit of gleam once baked). (Save the reserve egg wash for a second brush after the final rise)

Cover lightly with plastic and let rise for about 35 minutes. Brush lightly again with the egg. If desired, sprinkle sesame seeds over the brushed buns. I like to alternate the sesame seeds so that half of them have them and half don’t. This way people can choose what kind they prefer. You can also get creative here and sprinkle them with other things like dried garlic, poppy or pumpkin seeds, etc.

Bake for 25-30 minutes or until golden and the bottom has a hollow sound to the touch.

Cardamom-Semolina & Lavender-Lemon Shortbread Cookies

2009-05-03T23:42:00.011-04:00

A few months ago, one of my coworkers handed me a page marked in the new Food Network Magazine. I admit that I was a bit skeptical at first since I always assumed a lot of those recipes were a bit more Sandra Lee than Alton Brown (if you know what I mean...). It turns out, I was wrong! After reading the recipe for Cardamon-Semolina Shortbread Cookies, I realized that it seemed like something I would enjoy trying.

That night, after dinner and my shows were over, I wandered into the kitchen with the recipe and started mixing. The dough came together easily enough. It's a quickie slice-and-bake style that you pop in the fridge and can even keep in the freezer indefinitely. Never satisfied with leaving well enough alone, I decided to double the recipe and try out a second version with dried lavender and a lemon glaze on top.

Both cookies came out beautifully. The lavender ones were particularly pretty to look at with the glaze and little specks of purplish-lavender shining through. They tasted even better than they looked: buttery and with floral and spicy undertones. The semolina really transformed the texture of the cookies into something a bit more substantial than the usual crumbly shortbread. The irony of the whole thing is that I don't really even like shortbread, but I really enjoyed these. My coworkers gobbled up the batch I brought them, and Eugene and my dad took care of the rest.

Like I mentioned, the dough is the kind that you can prepare ahead of time and then just slice and bake as necessary. I still have a log of the cardamom-semolina in the fridge, just waiting for someone to drop by for tea.

Cardamom-Semolina Shortbread Cookies
Recipe adapted from Food Network Magazine

Ingredients

3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup semolina flour
2 1/4 teaspoons ground cardamom
4 sticks unsalted butter, softened
1 3/4 cups sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large egg yolks
1 teaspoon orange-flower water

Directions

Sift together both flours and 2 teaspoons cardamom in a large bowl; set aside.

Using a mixer, beat the butter, 1 1/4 cups sugar and the salt in a large bowl until light and fluffy. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, then add the egg yolks; mix well. Add the dry ingredients and mix until just incorporated. Mix in the orange-flower water.

Divide the dough in half; place each half on a sheet of wax paper. Using the wax paper, roll each piece of dough into a 12-by-1 1/2-inch log. Wrap tightly and chill until firm, at least 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Mix the remaining 1/2 cup sugar and 1/4 teaspoon cardamom in a bowl. Slice one log of dough into 1/4-inch-thick rounds (keep the remaining log refrigerated). Dip the tops of dough rounds in the cardamom sugar and arrange on ungreased baking sheets; bake until golden brown, 12 to 15 minutes. Place the cookies on a wire rack to cool. Repeat with the remaining log of dough.

Lavender-Lemon Semolina Shortbread Cookies
Replace cardamom with equal amount of crushed dried lavender. Add 1 teaspoon of fresh lemon zest. Proceed with recipe as stated above. Top with lemon glaze (recipe follows).

Lemon Glaze

Ingredients

1.5 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 lemon, zested

Directions

Combine the powdered sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest in a small bowl and stir until smooth making sure there are no lumps. Use a spoon to drizzle about 1/2-teaspoon onto each cooled cookie.

Let harden for about two hours (uncovered at room temperature), then store in an air-tight container for up to one week.

Pomegranate Braised Baby-Back Ribs

2009-04-29T00:03:00.012-04:00

It's no secret that food writers are regularly contacted by PR reps interested in offering us free products in the hopes that we'll write about them on our blogs. While of these pitches can be pretty lame, occasionally something will come through the wire that actually sounds pretty good. I particularly like when I get offers to try out products that I can actually use in my own recipes, as was the case recently when a company offered to send me a box of POM Wonderful pomegranate juice.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should admit that I am not a juice drinker. Regardless of the reported health and antioxidant benefits of certain juices, I'd much rather chew my calories than drink them. But when the odd bottle of something ends up in my refrigerator, I'm usually quick to find savory uses for it. This is how I've learned that pure fruit juices (not "juice cocktails") make incredible braising or poaching liquids. Orange juice is perfect with poultry and seafood. Cranberry juice is brilliant on brisket. And pomegranate juice makes a to-die-for base for a slab of sticky, sweet, savory baby-back ribs. Actually, pomegranate juice is wonderful on a lot of things. I've used it to braise pork shoulder, tenderloin, and brisket. It's a great non-alcoholic way to deglaze a pan after searing a steak for a quick, tangy pan sauce. It's also lovely reduced with some honey or sugar and drizzled over various desserts. Apparently, you can also drink it.

These pomegranate-braised baby-back ribs are my favorite, though. They're easy to make since they cook in the oven for a few hours while you can be off doing other things. No need to worry about cleaning the grill or burning the glaze! They are also a great party dish since everything can be prepared a day ahead and then just reheated in the braising liquid over medium heat for about 20 minutes before serving. Or make them on Sunday afternoon to serve later on in the week. I honestly think they taste even better this way!

As a tip, I suggest doubling or tripling the dry rub recipe and keeping it in a plastic baggie or jar. It's also great on steak, shrimp, or even mixed into ground beef for burgers. The ribs cook slow and low in the oven until they're practically falling off the bone. Then the pot is brought back up on the stove and reduced until it's a nice thick glaze. If you find yourself with leftover sauce after the ribs are served, quickly steam up a batch of frozen or fresh green beans, and toss them in the warm sauce. Add a little chili oil and you've got yourself a nice sweet & spicy side dish.

Oh, and while I used the POM Wonderful juice that I was sent (the kind that comes in those adorable little round bottles), this recipe would work just as well with other tangy and strong-flavored juices such as 100% blueberry or cranberry juice. (No cocktails!)

Pomegranate Braised Baby-Back Ribs
(serves 4)

1 large slab baby-back ribs (about 10 ribs)

Ingredients for the dry rub:

1 cup dark brown sugar
3 tablespoons coarse sea or kosher salt
1 tablespoon smoked paprika (hot or sweet, depending on your taste)
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon onion powder
1 teaspoon Old Bay Seasoning
1 teaspoon dry thyme
1 teaspoon dry crushed bay leaves

Ingredients for the braising liquid:

2 cups 100% pomegranate juice (with no added sugars, such as POM Wonderful)
1/2 cup whiskey
2 tablespoons jam of a sweet, non-berry fruit (such as apricot, guava, peach)
1 teaspoon Worcestershire or steak sauce (such as A1)
1 tablespoon tomato paste
5 cloves garlic, peeled and crushed

Directions

Cut the slab of ribs in half. Combine all the dry ingredients for the rub and sift well. Rub a generous handful of the mix (you'll have quite a bit left over) onto each side of the slabs. Place the ribs in the base of a dutch oven or heavy duty baking pan, cover, and place in the fridge to marinate for at least 1/2 hour (or overnight). Note that it's OK if they overlap a little as they'll shrink down during cooking.

When you are ready to cook the ribs.

Preheat your oven to 250 degrees.

Pull the ribs out of the refrigerator and let them reach room temperature.(Do not rinse off rub.) Meanwhile, combine all the ingredients of the braising liquid in a medium saucepan over medium heat until just warm and the jam has dissolved into the liquid. Pour this over the ribs in the dutch oven, making sure to evenly distribute. Cover with the top (or foil if using a pan).

Braise in 250 degree oven for 3 hours.

Remove from the oven and place the dutch oven over medium heat on the stovetop. Without removing the ribs, heat the sauce and let it simmer until it reduces to a thick glaze (about 10 minutes).

Serve the ribs with the sauce drizzled over (about 2-3 ribs per person) and a side of wilted greens or mashed potatoes. Any leftovers can be placed back in the sauce and refrigerated, then reheated over medium heat right on the stove.

How to Eat Soufflé

2009-04-08T00:04:00.002-04:00

I used to make something I called Sugar Soufflé. I didn't really make it so much as I collected handfuls of sparkly mica-flecked rocks from under the back porch, placed them all into a pile, and imagined that they were a delicious airy concoction that tasted of vanilla, marshmallows, and melted butterscotch ice cream. I served this odd, tasteless dish to my brother and the neighbor girl who was forced to play with my 6-year-old weirdness. Though the reality of Sugar Soufflé was disappointing and, well, rock-like, the fantasy was acutely delicious. I can still just about picture how good it tasted in my head, and I suspect I've spent the proceeding two decades searching for a flavor that would match that which I'd imagined so long ago.

My first soufflé certainly ignored many of the basic principles of souffle-making. Outside of the imagination, rocks are typically too heavy to keep aloft among the delicate peaks of a stiffly beaten meringue. Puree, however, works perfectly. A few months ago, I read a great little post by one of my favorite food bloggers, Zen Chef, who wrote about how he--in a pinch--transformed a half-melted carton of Ciao Bella passion fruit sorbet into a restaurant caliber dessert. As an undying fan of passion fruit, I always have a carton of that particular sorbet in the freezer (or icy and melty on a table near me) and decided that perhaps it was time to put this recipe into action.

Half-way through an episode of Lost, I bopped up from the couch and went into the kitchen where I started mixing and beating and sugaring my way to my very first passion fruit sorbet. It looked perfect. Light and with an airy rise a full inch above the rim of the ramekin, this souffle was impressive. But there was just one problem; it didn't taste like much. Maybe it was the eggs or the sorbet, but the passion fruit flavor was lost among the egginess and all I tasted was something that tasted like a sweet, airy omelet. It wasn't *bad* per se, but it wasn't at all what I expected.

My boyfriend and I each finished one souffle, and the leftovers were wrapped and placed in the fridge. "Maybe I'll eat it for breakfast," I told him.

But then I forgot about it.

Two days later and the (now totally collapsed) souffle was still sitting in the fridge. Craving something sweet, I finally pulled it out and scooped it into a plate. Topped with a dollop of unsweetened whipped cream and a handful of berries, I sat down on the couch to eat what I expected would be a passable treat. OH. MY. GOD. was I wrong! It was...incredible! I can't even describe how transformed this cold, fallen souffle tasted. It was as if the passion fruit had suddenly woken up and bathed itself in a silky caramel-tinged custard. With the mild whipped cream and the tartness of the berries, this was pure delight. I offered Eugene a bite who agreed that this dessert had come a long way since the sugary omelet of a few days past.

I ate it slowly, not wanting the goodness to end, and not until I near the end did it finally hit me. Sugar Souffle!! This was precisely the flavor I'd been imagining all along.

The recipe for the original souffle came from here, but if you really want to taste what my childlike imagination conjured all those years ago, I suggest you let them cool, cover with plastic wrap, and keep in the fridge overnight. The next day, top with some berries and a big plop of whipped cream. I think you'll like...

My Favorite Blueberry Buttermilk Pancakes (and a lesson in almost-perfect pancake making)

2009-02-18T22:45:00.018-05:00

It's not blueberry season, but sometimes cold mornings beg for berries--and what better vehicle for those less-than-perfect winter jewels than a stack of buttermilk pancakes? The heat of the griddle pulls the hibernating natural sugars out and the tangy contrast of buttermilk is just enough to get them dressed and out the door (right into your belly!).

The ironic thing about pancakes (of all kinds) is that while they're most often associated with lazy weekend mornings and relaxed breakfast-table lingering, making them can often be anything but.

Just like with (oven)cake-making, all the factors really do need to be just-so when you're fixing up a batch. The griddle needs to be hot, but not too hot. It should also be greased, but not too greased. The batter must not be overmixed. And let's not even get started on the flipping. Also, depending on how large the crowd you're feeding is, someone is sure to end up with a few cold pancakes.

Even non-beginners have trouble. I was actually flipping pancakes the first time I snapped at my boyfriend. It certainly wasn’t his fault. The fault was that of the skillet, which was too thin and too hot and which was (at that very moment) relentlessly charring three of my delicate pancakes into something rather ugly. I wasn’t angry at my boyfriend. I was angry at the skillet and at myself for not being able to produce perfectly something so simple, so *elementary*, as a pancake.

But he didn’t know this and so, when he tried to slip his arm around me and kiss my neck, I bristled. I tensed right up. I seized, like a drop of water on that cursed fiery skillet, and (ugh, I can’t believe I’m about to tell you this…) I pulled away snapping at him to “just let me do this.”

That's what making pancakes can do. It can make you hot and crazed and very frustrated. They can make you snap at people that you love and leave you wishing you'd just made scrambled eggs and bacon. But it gets easier each time. Like pianos and the paso doble, pancakes require practice.

If I haven't completely talked you out of making these blueberry pancakes (not my plan, I swear!) perhaps some of the following pancake making tips will help. And I'd love to hear any tips that you might have of your own--mine might be good, but they're certainly far from perfect!

About that buttermilk. Use it, even if it means you have to wait a little longer while you send someone out to the store to pick up a carton. You can absolutely recreate this recipe quite nicely with homemade soured milk (1 tablespoon of lemon juice or mild vinegar per cup of regular milk, let sit at room temperature for 10 minutes), the texture will be all wrong.

Buttermilk, as those who use it know and those who don't should, is thick. It pours slowly, like melted ice cream. It's more viscous than heavy cream and that denseness is just as important as the acidity. If you do make this using homemade sour milk, I would recommend cutting the liquid down by about 1/2 cup or the batter will be too thin and will spread out on your pan making for a much thinner pancake.

Adding the blueberries (or bananas, sliced strawberries, chocolate chips, etc.). Don't mix these into the batter. Wait until it's on the griddle and starts bubbling, then drop a small handful one by one into the half-cooked pancake, pressing slightly into the batter with the tip of your finger. They'll set nicely and won't stick to the pan, making for a nice smooth flip.

What pan? How hot? If you have an electric griddle, you're golden. Preheat it to 375 then lower to about 360 when you get the pancakes going. If you don't have an electric griddle, your next best bet is cast iron. I have a 10" round cast iron griddle made by Lodge that cost about 10 dollars on Amazon. This works beautifully, although in hindsight I wish I'd bought a square or rectangular one as the circle limits the amount of pancakes I can make (and successfully flip) at once to about 2, 3 if I'm very careful. Nonstick skillets work too, but you want one with a heavy bottom as flimsier skillets have a tendency to overheat.

Heat your pan over medium heat while you prepare your batter; test it by dropping a splatter of water on it and watching to see if it beads up and dances on the surface of the pan before evaporating. If so, you're ready. If the water just sits on the pan, it's too cold. If it sizzles and evaporates immediately without beading, it's too hot.

Mixing. Combine the ingredients with a light hand, just until the all the dry spots disappear. Try and think of it as a mix between folding (like you would with mousse or angel food cake) and regular mixing (like with cookies). There will be lumps in the final batter. This is good. You want lumps. Don't mix away the lumps or you'll end up with flat, tough pancakes.

Feeding a crowd? Keep cooked pancakes warm while you finish the batch by spreading them in a single layer on a paper towel or parchment-lined cookie sheet in a 200 degree oven. Make sure to keep the pancakes in a single layer so they don't stick or become soggy, and don't raise the oven heat higher than that as it will essentially bake the pancakes, making them dry and rubbery (I say this from experience). For a smaller batch, a plate placed over a large saucepan of gently simmering water will also work (think hotel breakfast buffet chafing dish style).

More butter? Tossing a whole pat of butter on the griddle might be easy, but it will make your pan burn and smoke in between pancakes or leave them all looking and tasting just a teensy bit fried. To better control the amount of fat you use (for cooking, not dieting purposes), use a brush dipped in melted butter or vegetable oil to brush lightly over the entire griddle. Alternately, peel off an inch of paper from a new (cold) stick of butter and hold by the wrapped end while you glide it directly and quickly over the pan much in the same way you would lip balm on your lips. In between pancakes, keep this away from the stove to keep the whole stick from melting. I actually use this technique for buttering all my pans (even those I'm baking with) and reserve one stick just for this use.

Flip fantastic. Start with a metal spatula; plastic is too thick and the edges will melt when they come in contact with the heat. Wait for the right moment. The batter should have little pockets of air bubbles rising to the surface and the edges should appear slightly cooked. Slide the spatula under the pancake and gently rotate it around the sides to loosen the edges. Then lift and flip it in one smooth motion. Use the spatula to immediately tuck in any bits of batter or filling that escape from the sides (this is how you get those nice smooth edges). Don't press down on the pancake with your spatula, just let it cook. If the pancake tears in the first flip leaving raw batter on the top, give it a second flip and let cook for 20-30 seconds to seal that up.

Troubleshooting.

Not quite ready.You serve the pancakes, cut into them, and find that the filling is a bit more...er...raw than it should be. No worries. Pop the plate into the microwave for 15-30 seconds; that should be enough to finish cooking the inside. Another drizzle of syrup and you're in business!

Made too many pancakes? Place cold pancakes in individual freezer proof baggies and toss into the freezer. On your way to work or school in the morning, grab one and throw in the toaster or microwave for a tasty portable breakfast or snack.

Pancakes came out flat and tough? Don't toss them! Let cool and then spread with cream cheese, jam, or even slices of cheese and ham for an unconventional sandwich!

Out of maple syrup? Simmer 1/2 cup water with 1/2 sugar and some flavorings of your choice (berries, lemon or orange peel, vanilla bean, anise) for 5 -10 minutes until reduced. Let cool, strain, then drizzle over your breakfast for a quick homemade syrup. Or try melting (non-recalled) peanut butter, jam, or a dollop of lemon curd. An apple diced and tossed with sugar, butter, and a dash of cinnamon makes a yummy and easy caramel sauce.

My Favorite Blueberry Buttermilk Pancake Recipe (so far...)
Hints of orange and almond combine with the blueberries and tangy buttermilk for a really wonderful treat. Lemon and vanilla can also be substituted for another tasty variation. This recipe makes about 8-10 pancakes (enough for two) but can be easily doubled if you're serving more.

1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour (can also sub 1/2 cup of this for whole wheat flour)
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 pinch salt
2 tablespoons white granulated sugar
1 large egg, beaten
1 teaspoon pure almond extract (or vanilla)
1 teaspoon fresh orange or lemon zest
1.5 cups buttermilk or 1 cup homemade sour milk
3 tablespoons butter (try browned butter for extra flavor!), melted and cooled
1/2 pint fresh blueberries or other fruit

Preheat your griddle to 375 or heat cast iron griddle or skillet over medium heat. Preheat your oven to 200 degrees. Prepare a large cookie sheet by lining with paper towels or parchment paper and set on the top rack of your oven.

Sift together dry ingredients: flour, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and salt.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg, buttermilk, melted butter, extract, and citrus zest. Add the wet ingredients into the dry, and combine gently until all the dry spots are gone, but some lumps remain. Be careful not to overmix.

Brush your griddle with butter and pour the batter a 1/4 cup at a time, making sure to keep the pancakes about 2.5 inches apart. When the batter starts to bubble, drop a few of the fresh blueberries onto the pancake, pressing them in slightly with your finger. Let the pancakes continue to cook until the edges appear set and dry, then flip using your spatula to tuck in any extra batter that escapes.

Let cook for an additional minute or two before removing to a paper towel or parchment-lined cookie sheet in a preheated 200 degree oven.

Repeat with the rest of the batter until all the pancakes are done, making sure to keep the pancakes in a single layer.

Cinnamon Apple Butter (No Sugar Added)

2009-01-19T21:58:00.012-05:00

One of the main reasons why I wanted my boyfriend to get me a slow cooker was so that I could easily make homemade fruit butters. These sweet spreads made of cooked-down and pureed fruits are incredible on their own or spread on different kinds of bread. They're also lovely to bake with and can be mixed into oatmeal or yogurt for a sweet and spicy touch.

Fruit butters can be purchased commercially, but I've had a lot of trouble finding brands made without added sugars or sweeteners. It seems silly to me to add sugar to fruit that is already naturally very sweet. After searching on the Internet for a while I was unable to find any good apple butter recipes that didn't call for the addition of brown sugar or molasses.

I finally decided to just give it a shot myself, using only fresh apples, spices, and unsweetened apple juice. The results were fantastic and the slow cooker made the whole job practically effortless. I simply tossed all the ingredients into the CrockPot before going to bed, set it on low for 15 hours and when I got home from work the next day it was perfect. A quick pass through the blender and it was ready to serve.

This recipe makes enough to fill a large 24oz jar, which is just where I've been keeping it. If you'd like to preserve this for longer keeping, you can follow the same recipe and store using heated and sterilized jars. I admit that I haven't quite gotten around to doing it that way, which is why I like the nice usable amount that this produces.

Cinnamon Apple Butter (No Sugar Added)
This recipe is made without any added sugars to highlight the natural sweetness of the apples and juice. You can use any apples you'd like, but try to pick a sweeter variety such as Macintosh or Jonathan; Granny Smith apples don't work quite as well in this recipe due to their acidity. You can also play around with the juice for slightly different flavors. Try using grape, pomegranate, or pear juice (avoid citrus juices).

Ingredients
8 Macintosh Apples, cored & sliced but not peeled
3 cups apple cider or apple juice (preferably no sugar added)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

To make:
In the base of your slow mixer, add the apples followed by the spices, lemon juice, and apple juice. The cider should just cover the apples, but they shouldn't be swimming in it. If you need a little more, add it. Set the slow cooker to "low" for 12-15 hours. (I find it's best to get it going at night just before you go to bed; when you wake up it'll be just about done.)

Once the apples have softened, darkened, and much of the liquid has reduced, use a standard or immersion blender (or a food mill) to process until smooth.

If the apple butter is still a bit wet after the end of cooking time (due to the size of apples or the range of your slow cooker) transfer the apple butter to a large pot and cook over medium heat for 10-15 minutes until the liquid has reduced and the apple butter has thickened (take care because the mixture will splatter).

Let the apple butter cool completely before pouring into a glass jar or air-tight container. This will keep in the refrigerator for 3-4 weeks.

Split-Pea Soup w/ a Smoky Garlic Yogurt Swirl

2009-01-16T06:00:00.000-05:00

Those of you who follow my Twitter feed have probably read about the detox I've been following for the past week or so. I plan on going into a bit more detail about it in the coming week (complete with the full menu plan in case you'd like to try it out yourself), but for now I thought I'd share one of my favorite recipes from the plan: Split-Pea soup with a delicious garlic and smoked paprika yogurt dressing.

Unlike my usual bacon-infused soups, this one is made detox-friendly with vegetable broth as a base. In terms of numbers, it's much lighter than the traditional soups made with ham hocks, but that's where the differences end. The secret to this richly flavored dish is the yogurt swirl; a blend of smoked paprika, garlic, and Greek yogurt, it gives the soup the perfect amount of spice and depth. The smokiness of the paprika is reminiscent of that you'd get from bacon or a smoked ham hock, but with just a little extra spice. From a nutritional standpoint (if you're into that sort of thing) this soup is packed with protein, thiamine, folate, manganese, and a whopping 50% of your daily dietary fiber requirement. It's also a great source for those good complex carbs and carries a low glycemic load, meaning that it won't cause your body to go into post-lunch carb-crash. And given the crazy freeze that's been covering most of the US lately, I can imagine that a good soup recipe will go over well.

The yogurt dressing is also a nutrition powerhouse. The yogurt is a great source of calcium and live active cultures (the benefits of which Jamie Lee Curtis actively touts). Garlic is a powerful antioxidant that goes to work on all those free radicals, plus it's been thought to help lower cholesterol and boost the immune system against colds. Even the paprika does more than just hang out being delicious--some studies show that it can help normalize blood pressure, improve circulation, and increase the production of saliva and stomach acids to aid digestion. It's also unusually high in Vitamin C! This recipe will make a few cups of this dressing--certainly more than you'll want for the soup, but be sure to save it and experiment with it in other ways. I've found that it's great over salad, served with plain broiled salmon, or even spread on thin rye crisps. My favorite, however, is serving it alongside a big plate of oven-crisped sweet potato slices. I swear, it blows chips and dip way out of the water!

I used boxed vegetable broth for this soup and would certainly encourage you to do the same. It's a low-sodium variety that I've found both on Fresh Direct and Whole Foods. Of course, you can use your own homemade broth, or even bouillon cubes. Just make sure they're low-sodium. One of the key parts of the detox was cutting salt, and though I was reticent at first, I really didn't miss it that much once I did. The soup and dressing are rich with flavor thanks to the herbs and aromatics, and I've learned that a squeeze or two of lemon can help to "wake up" flavors in food much the same way that salt does.

Vegetarian Split-Pea Soup

Ingredients

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil or grapeseed oil
1 medium onion, chopped
3 garlic cloves, sliced
2 cups dried split green peas (picked over for stones and rinsed)
1 teaspoon ground coriander (you can also use crushed whole seeds)
1 teaspoon marjoram
3 sprigs of fresh thyme
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
5 cups vegetable broth

To make:

Heat the olive oil in a dutch oven over medium heat. Add the garlic and onions and cook for two minutes until soft and just slightly caramelized.

Add the peas, coriander, and marjoram, and stir to combine and coat evenly.

Add the vegetable broth, salt, and sprigs of thyme.

Bring up to a boil and then reduce the heat to medium-low, cover, and let simmer for approximately 30 minutes or until the peas are soft and fully-cooked.

Use a spoon to remove the twigs left from the thyme. Then using an immersion blender, slowly process the soup until it is completely smooth. (You can also ladle the soup in portions into a blender or food processor if you don't have an immersion blender, but be careful as the steam can push the blender cover off.)

Serve with a swirl of the Smoky Garlic Yogurt dressing (recipe below). (To obtain the swirl effect like in the photos, spoon 2-3 tablespoons of the dressing into a pastry bag or a Ziploc baggie, snip the tip, and starting from the center, swirl a design onto the soup.)

Smoky Garlic Yogurt Dressing

Ingredients:
2 cups plain strained Greek yogurt (such as Fage)
4 large garlic gloves (peeled and crushed slightly)
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon smoked spanish paprika (Pimenton)

To make:

Combine all incredients in a food processor or blender and process until smooth. Can be stored in a covered container in the refrigerator for up to three days.

Flourless Chocolate-Orange Almond Torte

2009-01-15T06:00:00.006-05:00

I was home alone tonight. Eugene went out with a few friends and though I was invited, I opted for the quiet evening at home. These solo nights are rare, and I looked forward to having a few hours to read and write and watch multiple episodes of Law & Order. I'd previously bought some salmon for tonight and decided to go ahead and make it anyway. Glazed with an easy miso dressing, broiled, and served on a bed of watercress, it made for a decadent solo dinner. But while incredibly tasty, I found myself with a creeping, but very distinctive craving: chocolate.

I went back and forth over my options. There was a bar of 70% chocolate in the fridge waiting to be attacked. Or I could go the virtuous route with a mug of hot, unsweetened chocolate-flavored almond milk. But I know myself, and I knew that neither of those choices would satisfy.

What I really wanted was something moist, with deep chocolate flavor. My mouth watered as seemingly every commercial on NBC showed peanut butter cups and those silky Dove squares. The crave was getting stronger and I knew that if I didn't act on it soon, I might end up doing something really naughty, like whipping up another German Chocolate Cake.

Luckily, I remembered the flourless chocolate hazelnut torte I first made last year. It's a low-carb treat that uses ground nuts instead of flour and Splenda instead of sugar, but which tastes deceptively sinful. A smaller version made in one of my mini springform pans, using ground almonds and a hint of orange zest seemed more and more like the only viable option.

Into the kitchen I went, haphazardly dumping everything into a bowl and mixing by hand. I didn't even bother to beat the eggs separately. I poured the batter into the tiny baking dish, and about 25 minutes or so later I had THE perfect little cake. It puffed up nicely, (almost like a souffle!) and the inside was simultaneously moist and light, with just a hint of molten filling at the very center. And the magical thing is that somewhere between the mixing and the baking, the orange and almonds combined to give the cake a practically ambrosial flavor.

This is the perfect cake when you're home alone, and it's easy enough that you won't feel guilty about making it just for yourself. If you have someone to share it with, well then, all the better! Add a dab of whipped cream and a handful of berries, and this just might make a perfect Valentine's Day dessert. I only finished about a third of the cake, but even if you do manage to get down to the crumbs, it's small enough that I won't allow you to feel guilty about (just look how tiny it looks next to my 8"--it's practically a muffin!).

Flourless Chocolate-Orange Almond Torte
Serves 2 (or 1, if you don't feel like sharing)

Ingredients
2/3 cup ground almond meal (you can also use hazelnut or pecans)
3 tablespoons good unsweetened cocoa powder
1/3 cup sugar or equivalent substitute (such as granulated Splenda)
1 teaspoon orange zest, finely grated
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon Kosher salt
2 medium eggs
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 tablspoons water
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract (optional)
1/4 teaspoon almond extract (optional)

To make:

1.Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and grease a 4" mini springform pan or ramekin

2. Combine the dry ingredients and the zest in a bowl, followed by the eggs, oil, water, and extracts. Stir until well combined.

3. Pour into your greased pan and place in the oven. The baking time will vary depending on your oven and the humidity in the environment. Start checking it about 25 minutes into baking. It will be ready when the batter is set and the cake puffs up and cracks slightly. (Avoid inserting a tester)

Once it's ready, remove from the oven and let cool slightly. Remove the sides of the springform pan or serve right in the ramekin. Dust with confectioner's sugar or top with whipped cream to serve.

Orange-Hazelnut Baklava

2009-01-14T06:00:00.001-05:00

Sahara market doesn’t look like much from the outside, but once you’re in the doors you’ll swear it’s doubled in size. Barrels of spices, nuts, and marinated olives crowd an entrance that gives way to shelf after shelf of unfamiliar (but so exciting!) grocery items. The aroma is distinct and intoxicating—a mix of freshly baked bread, grilled meats, and spices. Generous containers filled with milk cheese and yogurts sit in the refrigerator cases at front, up where the owners operate a modest Halal take-out.

While we were growing up, my father occasionally stopped at the nearby Arab market to pick up food for lunch or dinner or some meal in between. He was a fan of the falafel platters, both for taste and nostalgia. With each bite he’d recount the similar falafels he practically lived on as a young actor living in Greenwich Village. The story added just the perfect amount of romance to the already incredible platters; savory, lemon-sized falafel balls drizzled in tahini and served alongside generous portions of hummus, tabbouleh, and cucumber salad.

The best thing about dinner from the Arab market was that the meal didn’t end with the entrée. Just at the moment when I scraped up the last spoonfuls of creamy hummus and the hint of sadness that the deliciousness would soon be over started to set in, my father would reach into the store bag and pull out a second, smaller container. Inside, sitting in a small pool of honey syrup, were two perfect triangles of baklava.

My mother rarely ate sweets. My brother was disgusted by the whole meal, preferring the plastic-wrapped treats found on the regular grocery store shelves. But my father and I relished every single bite of that baklava. He ate his one small bite at a time, all the while gingerly holding it about a foot away to keep the drops of honey off his chin and shirt. I, on the other hand, ate mine with my fingers, peeling off each thin layer of phyllo and consuming it before moving on to the next. I started with the light and crispy top layers dusted with green-hued crushed pistachio, and worked my way down. The slices grew sweeter and stickier, until I finally reached the thick layer of crunchy ground walnuts near the bottom. The last few sheets of phyllo are still my favorite, having absorbed the most syrup. I sucked on them, then used my fingers to wipe up and final bits of syrup that may have dripped onto the plate.

A few weeks ago, on one of those lucky free days off work, I came across a package of frozen phyllo leftover from some long ago cocktail party. Though I’d originally meant to turn it into some kind of fancy canapé, I never quite got around to it and figured that I might as well experiment. I had time, afterall, and there was no one around to catch me if I messed it up. And that’s how I decided to make my own baklava.

I promise that though it might seem terrifyingly complicated, making baklava really is rather straightforward. My baklava isn’t exactly traditional—I based my recipe on the one printed on the side of the box, but used hazelnuts and almonds instead of the classic walnuts and pistachio. Since I love orange, I added a bit of zest to the nut mixture and used more zest and orange juice to make a heavily citrus-scented syrup that paired beautifully with the hazelnut.

I loved my baklava and so did my father, who excitedly drove into the city to pick up the portion of the batch I’d saved for him. I learned quite a bit while making it, too, and will include these notes here. I think that the next time I make it I might try and play around with the flavors—perhaps adding dried pineapple and coconut for a tropical flavored treat or mixing in some chocolate with the hazelnut. Once you have the technique down, you’ll see how easy it is to play with.

A few tips:

Make sure you set up all your ingredients and everything first. The phyllo is easy to work with, but is delicate and dries up quickly. You’ll need to work fast for the best results so make sure you’re organized and all set to assemble before you start
The point when you add the syrup to the baklava will determine your results. To keep your pastry crisp and not soggy, make sure the syrup and pastry is at opposite temperatures when you combine them. Meaning that either the pastry should be crackling hot (with a fully cooled syrup) or the syrup should be hot off the stove (with fully cooled pastry). As long as both aren’t at the same temperature, you’ll be fine.
If you can find it, freshly made phyllo (available at Mediterranean and Arab markets) is the best, but frozen phyllo works too. For best results, take it out of the freezer and let defrost in your fridge for a day or two before you use. This way it will be completely defrosted and pliable.
Don’t stress about small tears or slight overlaps. These are inevitable when working with such thin delicate sheets. Just straighten as best you can, brush with butter, and keep going. Your pastry will have so many sheets of phyllo on it that a few tears or bumps will be indiscernible in the finished pastry.

Orange-Hazelnut Baklava
Makes 16 servings

Ingredients

For the pastry:
1 pound frozen phyllo pastry sheets, defrosted
1 pound unsalted butter
2 cups ground hazelnuts
1 cup ground almonds
3 tablespoons light brown sugar
4 pieces Zwieback toast, crumbled (you can replace with ¼ cup plain bread crumbs)
1 tablespoon cinnamon, preferably Vietnamese
1 teaspoon orange zest, finely grated
½ teaspoon ground cloves
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon kosher salt

For the syrup:
3 cups water
2 ½ cups sugar
½ cup honey
5 large strips of orange zest
2 large strips of lemon zest
1 vanilla bean, split
2 whole cloves
1 star anise

To make:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. You will need a 9” square pan.

First clarify your butter. Cut the 1 pound of butter into small pieces and melt in a medium saucepan over medium-low heat. Simmer until it forms a white froth and is completely melted. Skim off the foam and discard. Reserve the clarified butter.

In a large bowl, combine the hazelnuts, almonds, toast or breadcrumbs, sugar, orange zest, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, and salt. Mix well until all the spices are evenly distributed.

Unroll your phyllo and use a knife to cut the rectangle of pastry sheets down about 6 inches so that it is a just slightly larger square than your baking pan (adjust according to your phyllo and pan).

Re-roll and put away the extra small part you just cut off as you won’t be using it for this.

Lay the phyllo out and cover with a damp towel while working to keep from drying out. Place nine sheets of phyllo on the bottom of your pan, brushing each one with the clarified butter before laying the next sheet.

Sprinkle the top sheet with the nuts mixture, then top with two buttered sheets of phyllo. Continue alternating nut mixture and two sheets of phyllo, being sure to butter each sheet, until you finish the nut mixture.

Place the remaining sheets of phyllo on top, buttering each one including the final layer.

With a sharp knife, cut the Baklava in half across, then turn and cut in half again. Cut each quarter in half diagonally both ways until you have 16 equal sized triangles. Use the clarified butter to brush over the cuts to seal them.

Bake in the 350 degree oven for 30 minutes then lower the heat to 300 and continue baking for 45 minutes to one hour, or until the pastry has puffed up slightly and taken on a slight golden hue. It will also pull away from the sides.

While the pastry is baking, combine the water, sugar, honey, citrus peel, and spices in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Let simmer for about 15-20 minutes to infuse the syrup and let it reduce a bit. It should take on a slightly golden color.

Let cool completely before pouring over the hot Baklava. (Or let the Baklava cool completely before pouring on the hot syrup.) The syrup pastry will crackle a bit when you pour on the syrup. Add just a small portion at a time so that it has a chance to sink in. Please note that you probably won’t need all the syrup (I had about a cup left).

Let the syrup-covered Baklava cool at room temperature for a minimum of four hours before serving. Can be stored covered with parchment or wax paper and plastic wrap at room temperature for 2-3 days. Can also be stored in the fridge but it will likely get a bit soggy.

Homebaked Pita Bread

2009-01-13T06:00:00.000-05:00

I spent my college years interning in the PR departments of a number of different non-profits and publishing companies. My sophomore year I got a job in the media relations office of one of the major teacher’s unions. I absolutely loved that job. My work was interesting and our bosses were fantastic—clever, charismatic, and a lot of fun. In the middle of the summer, the union held their annual meeting and we (the interns) were flown out to New Orleans where we each got our own executive suite and a generous per diem. The work was minimal and we spent most of that week going out for drinks with our bosses and having lavish dinners at some incredible New Orleans restaurants.

It was, needless to say, the ultimate internship. But I would be lying if I said that it was not without some annoyances--or one annoyance, to be more exact. She was one of the PR reps and she was good at one thing—driving everyone around her crazy, from our bosses to the mailroom guys. We interns especially hated her because she was constantly passing her work off on us and then taking the credit. Fortunately she was also prone to getting sick, and could usually be counted on to miss at least one or two days of work a week due to such brilliant excuses as “my closet pole collapsed today so I have to stay home and put away my clothing” or “my wrist is sore.”

We all used to share stories about her during lunch and when she wasn’t around (which was often). One afternoon, our boss revealed the nickname that she and a lot of the other veterans had for her. They called her Pita, because she was such a Pain In The A**. We giggled at this and quickly adopted it among our own conversations.

It’s been quite a few years since then, but I’ve never forgotten Pita and I always think of her when I hear the word. It’s a fact of life that all offices seem to have one or two Pitas on staff. They can be impossible to deal with, but can certainly be entertaining to commiserate over (especially during lunch!). Why not whip up a batch of these delicious pita breads to share with your nice coworkers. They’re wonderful plain, filled with salad or meat, or toasted and dipped in hummus. Unlike dealing with the office Pita, baking these is a breeze.

Pita Bread
Makes 8 pita bread rounds

Ingredients
2 ½ cups bread flour
1 ½ teaspoons active dry yeast
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil
1 cup warm water

To make:
Place your baking stone or tile on the lowest rack of the oven and preheat as high as it will allow (around 500 degrees)

1. Whisk the yeast, sugar, and water together and let sit for 5 minutes until the yeast starts to froth.

2. Sift the flour and salt together and pour into the base of your electric mixer with the dough hook attached.

3. Pour in the olive oil and water/yeast mixture and knead using the dough hook. It will come together. Continue kneading for 5 more minutes until the dough is smooth or elastic. You might have to add a bit more water or flour to get the right consistency. Once it is ready, turn out onto a flour surface and form into a ball. Place in a greased bowl (use olive oil), turn once to coat and cover with a clean towel. Let rise for one hour or until doubled in bulk.

4. Punch the dough down and divide in to 8 equal pieces. Shape each piece into a ball and use a floured rolling pin to roll out to about 1/4-1/2 inch thick. Place on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and cover with oiled plastic wrap. Let rise again for 20 minutes.

5. When ready to bake, gently lift each round and lay on your baking stone. You can do about 2-3 at a time. Shut the oven door and let bake for 3-6 minutes or until puffed up with just a hint of color. Use a spatula or tongs to remove from the oven and repeat with the rest of your dough. Wrap in a warm, clean dishtowel until serving to keep warm.

Classic Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta

2009-01-12T07:00:00.002-05:00

On paper, panna cotta really doesn’t seem like much. The name of this classic Italian dessert translates to mean “cooked cream,” which essentially is all it is. Cream simmered with a variety of spices and aromatics, and then set with a touch of gelatin. Think of it as Jell-O’s sophisticated older cousin, eminently satisfying despite the fact that it requires no more kitchen time than the stuff from the packets.

A quick batch of panna cotta made on Sunday evening can provide you with a week’s worth of creamy desserts, served alongside a handful of freshly washed berries or perhaps even eaten straight from the ramekin while watching television. And when planning a dinner party, this one is always a winner; Simple, best when made ahead, and always impressive on the plate (and palate).

This recipe is easy to modify, and I definitely encourage you to try. Add nutmeg and a cinnamon stick to the cream and serve with diced and quickly sautéed apples, or add a tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder for to satisfy your chocolate fix. Coconut shreds, toasted nuts, cardamom pods, star anise, and various white and black teas can all be used to infuse the cream with flavor. My favorite, however, is still the original vanilla, which when made with a whole vanilla bean is strongly reminiscent of slightly melted vanilla ice cream. And for those of you following low carb eating plans, simply swap out the sugar for the equivalent Splenda, Agave, Stevia, or whatever your favorite sweetener is.

One thing to note about panna cotta is that the firmness is really determined by the amount of gelatin you use. I love a panna cotta that is creamy and just barely set, but if you'd like something a bit firmer, an extra teaspoon of gelatin will do the trick. If you make my version the day of, I suggest serving it right in the ramekin. A day or two later it will hold better when unmolded. Just dip the bottom of your ramekin or mold in a bit of warm water, run a wet knife quickly around the sides, and flip.

Classic Vanilla Bean Panna Cotta
Serves 6

Ingredients
3 cups cream (preferably not ultra-pasteurized, I love Ronnybrook cream!)
2 teaspoons unflavored gelatin (measure out the gelatin in the packets as amounts vary)
1 whole vanilla bean, split
1/2 cup sugar or equivalent sweetener for low-carb version

To make:
1. Pour 1 cup cream in a medium saucepan and sprinkle gelatin over it. Let sit for about five minutes or until the gelatin starts to absorb.

2. Turn the heat to low and stir until it dissolves completely. Scrape the vanilla bean seeds into the cream and add the two halves of the pod along with the rest of the cream and sugar(if you’re using Splenda or other sweetener, wait until after infusing the cream to add). Simmer over medium heat until the cream starts to foam slightly. Turn off the heat, cover, and allow to steep for 15-30 minutes.

3. Remove the vanilla bean. Add the Splenda if you are making the low-carb version.

4. Pour into 6 small ramekins (wine or martini glasses also work well for dinner parties).

5. Press a small sheet of plastic wrap over each ramekin to prevent a skin forming and place in fridge to let set (about 4 hours).

6. To serve, dip bottom of ramekin in hot water for 5-10 seconds, cover with your serving dish, then flip to invert onto the plate. Garnish with berries, cinnamon, whipped cream, or any desired toppings.

Arancini di Riso

2009-01-11T18:04:00.003-05:00

Arancini seems like it would be the perfect name for a dessert. In Italian, the word means “little oranges,” and to look at them, these perfectly round and crisp little balls really do seem to resemble a basket filled with tangerines. But don’t be fooled because these fritters are meant to be enjoyed before the meal, not after.

A crisp exterior of seasoned breadcrumbs breaks open to reveal warm and creamy risotto around a center of melted mozzarella. It’s the Italian version of a croquette, designed to make use of leftovers in a way so delicious some might argue they’re even better than the original

Serve these hot, a few minutes out of the frying pan, or let cool to room temperature. With a glass of wine and a bowl of marinara or pureed oven roasted tomatoes for dipping, these make a perfect lunch or light dinner. Smaller Arancini also work as a lovely party appetizer. When I lived in Florence, my culinary school would usually put us students to work making dozens of these to serve at catered functions where they were always a big hit. No one needs to know they’re being served leftovers!

You can certainly make risotto just for the purpose of making Arancini, but note that the rice really needs to be cold and just a bit congealed before you can start rolling. If you’re planning on making these, make a pot of risotto the night before or early in the morning, and let cool in the fridge for at least 5 hours or overnight before starting. I actually make a point of making extra risotto just so that I will have enough for a big batch of these the day after. Risotto with peas is traditional, but I made these using a leftover Risotto Milanese from the night before. If you don’t have mozzarella, you can substitute any semi-soft cheese for the center; Fontina, gouda, or even a soft white cheddar would all make for good variations. I’ve even used squares cut from those Baby Bell rounds that come in the little red netting!

The Arancini should be eaten the day they are made, but extras can be wrapped well and frozen for several weeks. To serve, preheat your oven to 375 degrees and place the frozen rice balls on a baking sheet. Bake for about 15-20 minutes until heated through and crisp on the outside.

Arancini di Riso
makes about 15-20 risotto balls, depending on size

Ingredients
Canola or vegetable oil for frying
3 cups leftover and cooled risotto, any variation (this is a great basic recipe)
2 large eggs, beaten well
2 cups breadcrumbs (plain or Italian seasoned. Panko breadcrumbs are not recommended for this recipe.)
¼ cup grated parmesan cheese
3 ounces of mozzarella or other semi-soft cheese cut into ½-inch cubes
salt & pepper for seasoning

To make:
1. Fill a heavy medium sized saucepan with oil until it reaches about 3 inches deep. Heat oil over medium heat until a deep fat thermometer reads a temperature of 350 degrees.

2. Combine the breadcrumbs and parmesan and then pour into a shallow bowl. Set next to a shallow bowl containing the beaten eggs. If your breadcrumbs aren’t seasoned, add a bit of salt and cracked pepper to the breadcrumb mixture.

3. Use a spoon to scoop up about 3 tablespoons of cold risotto and use your hands to form a ball (it might help to moisten them first before rolling). Insert one cube of cheese into the ball, pushing into the center, then roll again to make sure the rice has surrounded it on all sides. Set on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and repeat until you have used up all the leftover risotto and cheese.

4. Once all the balls have been rolled out, working one at a time, dip the ball in the beaten egg and turn to coat entirely. Lift and allow any excess egg to drip off, then roll in the breadcrumb mixture until completely combined. Again, shake off any excess and place back on the parchment lined baking sheet. Repeat with the rest of the risotto balls.

5. Working in batches to keep the oil from cooling, gently add the rice balls to the hot oil and fry until golden brown on all sides. You may need to turn after two minutes. (This should take 4 minutes). Use a slotted spoon to remove the golden arancini to a plate lined with paper towels to drain. And season with a bit of salt (salting right after frying keeps food crisp.)

Serve hot or room temperature with a bowl of warm marinara or other favorite pasta sauce for dipping.

German Chocolate Cake

2009-01-10T20:57:00.012-05:00

I wish cafeterias would stop selling German Chocolate Cake. Years of two-dollar slices squooshed between the sides of disposable plastic food containers have done much to weaken the reputation of this really rather lovely treat.

Real German Chocolate Cake is not the cloying coconut frosting sandwiched by crumbly insipid layers so commonly found in deli refrigerator cases and hospital waiting rooms. It’s not meant to sit next to dishes of congealed tapioca and fruit salad at the lunchtime food-by-the-pound places.

Real German Chocolate Cake can be something elegant. When done well, it is practically regal: moist forkfuls of rich and complex chocolate cake layered with a simultaneously light and creamy coconut filling all covered in a blanket of whipped ganache. It’s supposed to leave you feeling satisfied, perhaps a little bit dizzy. Good German Chocolate Cake will make you swoon, not leave you wishing you’d gone with the pudding.

This recipe is adapted from the dessert genius, David Lebovitz, with a just a few small changes from his original recipe, all of which I’ve detailed for you here:

The filling, which traditionally contains nuts, was made with only coconut because my boyfriend doesn’t like nuts in cake. I also doubled the amount because it’s my favorite part and I love a nice thick layer of it (also I love being able to clean the bowl afterwards…mmm!).
I never keep buttermilk around since I use it so rarely, so I used a tablespoon of vinegar added to a cup of milk and left on the counter for ten minutes. It works perfectly (really you’re just looking for a bit of acid to react with the baking soda.)
For the frosting I used half bittersweet and half unsweetened chocolate because I wanted a really dark frosting to contrast with the sweetness of the coconut filling. I also left out the corn syrup listed in the original recipe. Instead, I cooled the ganache and whipped it in my mixer until it was double the volume and light in color. While not the prettiest of frostings, it was absolutely heavenly and I confess to eating quite a bit of it straight from the mixer bowl. (Actually, I think it was awesome enough to eat on its own as an OMG so good and easy chocolate mouse.)
I added a generous ring of shredded unsweetened coconut around the top

Oh! And one more thing. This cake will be awesome tonight, but if you wait until tomorrow, it will be even more amazing. The filling will have absorbed just a tiny bit into the cake and the whole thing will taste even richer. It will also keep remarkably well left out on the counter for up to 5 days (we didn’t even bother covering it, although you probably should).

I made this cake for my boyfriend's and my New Year's Eve dinner; a very sweet way to close out 2008. Since it's just the two of us here, we each helped ourselves to a slice (or two!) everyday for the first couple days of the new year and would have gladly kept going had I not had to sense to wrap up the half that was left and send it home with my dad when he stopped by one night. He brought it into work where his coworkers reportedly fell all over themselves devouring it in a matter of minutes.

German Chocolate Cake
Adapted from David Lebovitz/ Makes one huge 9-inch layer cake—enough for several days (or servings) of deliciousness!

For the cake:
2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped
2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
6 tablespoons water
2 sticks of unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 ¼ cup + ¼ cup sugar
4 large eggs, separated
2 cups all-purpose unbleached flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup buttermilk, at room temperature (can be replaced with 1 cup whole milk mixed with 1 tbsp vinegar)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

For the filling:
2 cups heavy cream
1.5 cups sugar
6 large egg yolks
6 ounces butter, cut into small pieces
1 teaspoon salt

1 cup chopped pecans (optional—can replace with 1 cup coconut if you don’t want nuts in your cake)
1 1/3 cups unsweetened coconut, toasted

For the syrup:
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
2 tablespoons dark rum, vodka, or coffee or coconut liqueur

For the chocolate icing:
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped

4 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
1 ½ ounces unsalted butter
1 cup heavy cream

To make the cake:

Butter two 9-inch cake pans and line bottoms with parchment paper. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Melt chocolate w/ the water in the microwave (30 seconds at a time). Stir until smooth and let cool.

In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat butter and 1 ¼ cup of the sugar until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Beat in melted chocolate, then the egg yolks, allowing each one to incorporate.

Sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

Mix in half of the dry ingredients, then the buttermilk and the vanilla extract, then the rest of the dry ingredients.

In a separate metal or glass bowl, beat the egg whites until they hold soft, droopy peaks. Beat in the ¼ cup of sugar until stiff.

Fold about one-third of the egg whites into the cake batter to lighten it, then fold in the remaining egg whites just until there's no trace of egg white visible.

Divide the batter into the 2 prepared cake pans, smooth the tops, and bake for about 45 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.

Cool cake layers completely.

While the cakes are baking and cooling, make the filling, syrup, and icing.

To make the filling:

Mix the cream, sugar, and egg yolks in a medium saucepan. Put the butter, salt, toasted coconut, and pecan (if using) pieces in a large bowl.

Heat the cream mixture and cook, stirring constantly (scraping the bottom as you stir) until the mixture begins to thicken and coats the spoon

Pour the hot custard immediately into the coconut mixture and stir until the butter is melted. Cool completely to room temperature. (It will thicken.)

To make the syrup:

In a small saucepan, heat the sugar and water until the sugar has melted. Remove from heat and stir in the rum or alcohol of your choice.

To make the icing:

Place the 8 ounces of chopped chocolate in a bowl with the corn syrup and 1 ½ ounces of butter. Heat the cream until it just begins to boil. Remove from heat and pour over the chocolate. Let stand one minute, then stir until smooth. Let sit until room temperature.

To assemble the cake:
Remove the cake layers from the pans and cut both cake layers in half horizontally, using a serrated bread knife. Set the first cake layer on a cake plate. Brush with the syrup. Spread ¼ of the coconut filling over the cake layer, making sure to reach to the edges. Set another cake layer on top. Repeat until you’ve used all the layers and all the filling (include a layer of filling on top). Ice the sides with the chocolate frosting and sprinkle coconut over and around the top edges.

My Culinary Confessions

2009-01-09T17:22:00.006-05:00

While wandering around the Internet, I came across an old post on David Lebovitz's blog in which he spills all his culinary confessions. I think it was a meme for a bit a few years ago so I apologize for being late to the party, but I thought it might be fun to share a few of my own kitchen secrets. I'd also love to hear yours so please feel free to add to the list in the comments section.

Culinary Confessions

I always eat the first (ugly) pancake while standing at the stove making the rest of the batch.

I rarely sift my dry ingredients (even though I always tell you to sift!)

I scoop my flour directly out of the bag even though I know I'm supposed to spoon it into the measuring cup.

My refrigerator door is overflowing with jars of jams, things I've pickled, and condiments.

I go through 12-18 large eggs a week.

I sometimes buy scrambled eggs at work in addition to the ones at home.

I chop onions daily, but they still make me cry like a baby each time.

I preserved some Meyer Lemons last year and haven't used them yet because I'm a little bit scared that I did it wrong.

I bring expensive Greek yogurt to work a few times a week and let it get sour and watery on my desk before I get around to eating it.

I like my steak and fish cooked well done, but burgers I’ll eat medium.

I use too much salt. In culinary school I always lost points on my dishes for over-salting. But I actually like it that way.

I drink close to a gallon of water a day; probably to wash out all the salt.

I don’t like chicken noodle soup, sashimi, edamame, minestrone, most curries, Thai food, pumpkin pie, cheesecake, filet mignon, white chocolate on its own, bottled fruit juice, tomatoes in salad (except Caprese), roast beef, or anything tartare.

I don't like when chicken tastes too "chicken-y."

I don’t always brush all the dirt off my mushrooms when I’m using them in stews and sautes. I tell myself it adds a bit of flavor.

I don’t always wash my berries before eating them, unless I’m serving them to someone else.

I get irritated when waiters start clearing plates while someone is still eating.

I prefer raw cookie dough to baked chocolate chip cookies.

I use the phrase “I can make that” at least once a day in reference to something edible seen on television, a magazine, a menu, or a store.

And then I usually do make it.

I crave Big Macs and McDonald’s French Fries, but it’s been two years since I’ve had either.

I love mayonnaise. Especially with, on, and in eggs.

I also really love candy. Pretty much all kinds, fancy or expensive, except for licorice things. At the store I always wander into the candy aisle and stare at the options for several minutes, but I rarely buy anything.

Except Cadbury Cream Eggs. I always buy those.

And then I sit and Google ways to make them from scratch at home.

I hate licorice.

But I like Sambuca.

And Amaretto makes me dizzy-happy.

My risotto is perfect, but my regular rice is ALWAYS mushy.

Fortunately I don’t really like rice.

Except in paella or pudding.

I only like duck in pate form.

After hearing my coworkers complain about the evils and alleged aftertaste of Splenda one-too-many times, I baked a decadent flourless chocolate torte using only Splenda and smiled inwardly when they raved and polished it off completely unaware that it wasn’t made with sugar.

I go to the grocery store every couple days, in addition to a big Fresh Direct delivery. I also stop at the Asian market, the farmer’s market, and Williams Sonoma for additional “staples.”

I prefer grocery shopping to all other kinds of shopping, and when I’m sad or feeling a bit down, I find walking into a grocery store is the quickest way to make myself feel better.

I love veal, fois gras, and pork without guilt.

I can’t eat buttercream frosting. It’s delicious, but when I think about how much butter is in it, I start to gag a little.

This despite the fact that I. Love. Butter.

I do like canned frosting (or the memory of it as it’s been years since I’ve had any).

Anytime I eat out I can’t help but think about how I’d recreate the recipe at home, certain that my version would be better.

I think that pine nuts, when eaten on their own, have a flavor very similar to smoky bacon or prosciutto.

I much prefer imported oil-packed tuna, but my heart hurts a little bit when I have to pay ~10 dollars for a single jar.

I peak in the oven several times while baking. It’s yet to cause a disaster.

As much as I love to cook, there are some nights when all I want is an order of Chinese lo mein noodles from the takeout place next door. (And eaten straight from the carton!)

Happy New Year, All

2008-12-31T23:58:00.001-05:00

That's me on one of my most favorite days this past year. (A rare moment away from the kitchen). Looking forward to lots more like that (with or without the wig).

xoxo