alexandra’s kitchen

I've Moved!

2009-02-27T00:28:00.001-08:00

I have officially moved to www.alexandracooks.com. Come visit!

The Best Granola & A Little Blogging Change

2009-01-29T17:21:00.000-08:00

It has come to my attention that my blog can take quite a bit of time to load on various computers. I'm not really sure why this is happening, but I find it very frustrating and I am in the process of doing something about it. Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know that part of the reason I have been such a terrible blogger these past few weeks is because I'm trying to figure out what to do. I'll keep you posted, and I apologize for the recent lack of activity on alexandra's kitchen.

But before I leave you, I just thought I'd remind you all about one of my all-time favorite recipes. It has been over a year since I made this granola and it is just as delectable as I remember. The base recipe has been adapted from the Barefoot Contessa and the candied nut recipe comes from one of the Moosewood cookbooks. With the addition of dried cranberries and blueberries, this granola makes the best breakfast/snack/lunch/dinner ever. Seriously. It most definitely will appear on Olalie's Menu.

Candied cashews and almonds:

Granola and nuts mixed with dried cranberries and blueberries:

Nuts before roasting:

Granola just out of the oven:

Also, for those of you who live in the San Diego-Orange County area and have yet to make plans for Valentine's Day, Cafe Mimosa is offering a four-course prix fixe tasting menu on both Friday and Saturday nights (Feb. 13th and 14th). The menu sounds fantastic!

Grilled Cheese & Cafe Photos

2009-01-15T21:19:00.000-08:00

I cut the bread too thick. And I didn't use enough cheese — I thought four ounces of cheese per sandwich seemed a little excessive. But maybe that's what it takes to make the ultimate grilled cheese.

Saveur says:

"The Secret to making a perfect grilled cheese sandwich is cooking it over low heat, which brings out the subtle flavors of a cheese, and slathering the bread with butter, which crisps it in the pan. Comté, with its semifirm texture and nutty taste, is great for grilling."

Saveur's recipe for "the ultimate grilled cheese sandwich" calls for placing a cast-iron skillet over low heat and cooking the sandwich, flipping once, for 20 minutes. Twenty minutes! Who knew it took so long to make a grilled cheese sandwich? I did in fact cook my grilled cheese for 20 minutes and, thanks to a hefty slathering of butter, my sandwich crisped up nicely in my cast-iron pan. Oh, if only I had cut the bread thinner!

I think this cooking technique has the potential to produce a really great sandwich and next time around, I hope to find comté cheese, too. French comté is made from the milk of the Montbeliarde cows who graze on wild orchids, daisies and dandelions. Yum. If you can't find comté, gruyère makes a fine substitute.

Don't strain your eyes. Find the recipe here.

Since all I have to offer today is an unperfected grilled cheese sandwich, I thought I'd share some pictures with you as well. All of these are taken at the cafe where I work. If I can somehow get the chef to share his recipe for lemon madeleines, I will be sure to report back ... they are so damn good.

Prosciutto, Endive & Shaved Manchego Salad with Tarragon-Shallot Vinaigrette

2009-01-04T22:27:00.000-08:00

I am anxious to share with you my aunt Marcy's blueberry muffins, my mother's rosemary shortbread and my stepfather's glug — a high-octane, blood-warming winter punch. Those treats are going to have to wait, however. My eyes and mind need a break from the recent holiday indulgences.

And so today, I have only two things to share with you: a yummy yummy salad and a favorite vinaigrette.

Several weeks ago, a friend and I dined at Froma on Melrose, an LA cheese-, charcuterie-, and wine shop, where I ordered the Jamón Serrano salad, a combination of salty ham, bitter endive, and sweet pear, topped with Manchego cheese and drizzled with chestnut honey. What arrived at the table — essentially a platter of meat topped with a sprinkling of endive — was entirely different than what I envisioned but entirely enjoyed that evening. With my side of sliced baguette, I assembled mini open-faced sandwiches, which, along with a glass of red wine, made for a delectable dinner.

I've since made the salad several times, omitting the honey, which Froma overdid a tad and which is unnecessary anyway — the pears add a perfect amount of sweetness. A tarragon-shallot vinaigrette, I find makes the perfect dressing for this simple salad.

Happy New Year everyone!

Tarragon-Shallot Vinaigrette
Yield = ½ cup (Make a double batch — It's so nice to have on hand.)

4 teaspoons sherry vinegar
1 tablespoon finely chopped shallots
½ teaspoon Dijon mustard
¼ teaspoon sugar
¼ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil
2-3 tablespoons tarragon, finely chopped

In a small bowl, whisk together the vinegar, shallots, mustard, sugar and salt. Let mixture macerate for 20 minutes. Slowly drizzle in olive oil, whisking constantly until emulsified. Stir in tarragon. Taste, add more salt and pepper if necessary. Set aside.

Prosciutto, Pear & Endive Salad

Serves as many as you like

prosciutto

endive, sliced into thin wedges

arugula

pear, sliced thinly

Manchego cheese, shaved

bread, toasted or grilled

Arrange prosciutto on a large platter. (Alternatively, arrange a few slices on individual plates.) Toss endive, arugula and pear with the tarragon-shallot vinaigrette. Top prosciutto with salad. Top salad with slices of cheese. Serve with warm bread.

Holiday Linzers: Too Pretty To Eat

2008-12-22T20:21:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday morning, while warming up with a cup of coffee and some sweets in an adorable cafe in Boulder, my mother offered me her latest theory: "The prettier a cookie is," she said, setting down a handsome palmier, making no effort to hide her disgust, "the less edible it becomes." Though the palmier may have been an unlucky pick that morning, I think Liza might be on to something.

I had been eyeing this Dorie Greenspan recipe for linzer cookies for weeks. And after reading last Wednesday's New York Times' article, "Butter Holds The Secret To Cookies That Sing," I felt primed for an all-star baking session in my all-but-neglected kitchen. I would follow the recipe to a T, and with my recently acquired butter knowledge, I would think science not just mechanics.

I would cream my 65-degree temperature butter — "cold to the touch but warm enough to spread" — for at least three minutes with the paddle attachment of my stand mixer set on medium speed — no higher, lest the butter's temperature rise to 68 degrees — until enough air bubbles formed to create the required texture and aeration to produce a cookie to rival all cookies. My adrenaline was pumping. It was game time. I laced my apron around my waist, pounded a quart of Gatorade and set to work, not veering ever so slightly from the recipe, fighting off laziness every step of the way.

I whipped. I chilled. I rolled. I baked. I baked again. I dusted. I jammed. I sandwiched. I admired.

Expectations were high. Perhaps too high. After assembling all of the linzers, I ate one. And then another. And then another. I kept tasting, hoping with each new bite, I would be overwhelmed with satisfaction and joy, which I could then take to my computer and report to all of you. But alas, it never came.

I can't quite pinpoint my disappointment. These cookies are not too sweet, which I like, but I find them a bit too dry, which I don't. The final sandwich, I felt, needed more jam to combat the dryness, but the nature of the cookie only allows so much jam to exist between the two layers before a mess oozes out the sides. I offered one of my creations to a four-year-old boy who promptly spit it out. His six- and eight-year-old siblings ate theirs happily, with smiles even, but I think at that age, they've already learned tact.

I can say with certainty these are the prettiest cookies ever to emerge from my kitchen. Truly. I only wish I could say they were the tastiest, too.

As the above tale reveals, I am not totally satisfied with this recipe. Several years ago I made a batch of linzer cookies for Valentine's Day, which I prefer to this recipe. It has a higher butter content, which I think adds to the flavor. The cookies are not as pretty, but if taste is what you are after, I think you might have better success with this recipe.

Linzer Sablés
Adapted From Dorie Greenspan's Baking: From My Home To Yours

1½ cups finely ground almonds, hazelnuts or walnuts
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon salt
Scant ¼ teaspoon ground cloves (optional — I did not use any cloves)

1 large egg
2 teaspoons water
1 stick (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, at room temperature
½ cup sugar

½ cup raspberry jam (or any jam you like) plus 1 teaspoon of water (optional)
Confectioners' sugar, for dusting

1. Whisk together the ground nuts, flour, cinnamon, cloves (if using) and salt. Using a fork, stir the egg and water together in a small bowl.

2. Working with a stand mixer, fitted with a paddle attachment, beat the butter and sugar together at medium speed until smooth, about 3 minutes, scraping down the bowl as needed. Add the egg mixture and beat for 1 minute more.

3. Reduce the speed to low and add the dry ingredients, mixing only until incorporated. Don't overmix. If the dough comes together while some dry crumbs remain in the bottom of the bowl, stop the mixer and finish blending the ingredients with a rubber spatula or your hands.

4. Divide the dough in half. Working with one half at a time, put the dough between two large sheets of wax paper or plastic wrap.(*See note) Using your hands, flatten the dough into a disk, then grab a rolling pin and roll out the dough, turning it over frequently so that the paper doesn't cut into it, until it is about ¼-inch thick. Leave the dough in the paper and repeat with the second piece of dough. Transfer the wrapped dough to a baking sheet or cutting board (to keep it flat) and refrigerate or freeze it until it is very firm, about 2 hours in the refrigerator or about 45 minutes in the freezer.

Note: I divided the dough into two pieces, chilled it overnight, then rolled it out the next day. It was a little tricky rolling out the dough the next day because it was so cold, but I made it happen. I chilled the cut cookies on the pans for about 15 minutes before baking.

Note: The rolled-out dough can be wrapped airtight and stored in the refrigerator for up to 3 days or in the freezer for up to 2 months. Just thaw the dough enough to cut out the cookies and go on from there.

When ready to bake:

1. Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 375 ºF. Line two baking sheets with parchment or silicone mats.

2. Peel off the top sheet of wax paper from one piece of dough and, using a 2-inch round cookie cutter — a scalloped cutter is nice for these — cut out as many cookies as you can. If you want to have a peekaboo cutout, use a small fluted cutter or the end of a piping tip to cut out a circle (or heart or whatever shape you have) from the centers of half of the cookies. Transfer the rounds to the baking sheets, leaving a little space between the cookies. Set the scraps aside — you can combine them with the scraps from the second disk and roll and cut more cookies.

3. Bake the cookies one sheet at a time for 11 to 13 minutes, or until the cookies are lightly golden, dry and just firm to the touch. Transfer the cookies to a rack to cool to room temperature. Repeat with the second disk of dough, making sure to cool the baking sheets between batches. Gather the scraps of dough together, press them into a disk, roll them between sheets of wax paper or plastic wrap and refrigerate until firm, then cut and bake.

Preparing the sandwich cookies:

1. Place the jam in a small saucepan or in a microwaveable bowl and stir in the 1 teaspoon of water. Bring to a boil over low heat. When the jam is hot, pass it through a sieve to remove the seeds (optional), then let it cool slightly.

2. Place the cookies with the holes in them on a cookie sheet or cooling rack and dust with confectioner's sugar. Turn the remaining cookies flat side up and place about ½ teaspoon of the jam in the center of each cookie. Top with the confectioner's-sugar-dusted cookies.

Cinnamon-Raisin Bread

2008-12-12T07:13:00.000-08:00

Is there anything better than homemade bread? I mean seriously. I've asked this question before. The answer is always no, there is nothing better than homemade bread. The smell and taste of this buttermilk, cinnamon-raisin bread has confirmed this assertion once again.

I mixed together this batch of dough before bed one night about five minutes after reading an email from a friend raving about the recipe from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. The following morning I baked off two loaves of bread. One, I sliced and froze. The other, I sliced and ate and ate and ate and ate. And then I tucked the remaining heel in a ziplock back and stowed it in my cabinet. And then several hours later, I opened the cabinet and the bag and ate the heel for dinner. It was a quite a day.

Anyway, thank you, Darcy, for inspiring me to venture into the "enriched breads and pastries" chapter of Artisan Bread In Five. Readers, if you still haven't taken a stab at bread making, pick up this book. Bread making has never been so easy and fun. And while you're at it, order an 8-quart Cambro and lid (odd that the two aren't sold together) for easy mixing and storing. And, if you happen to be ordering flours and other baking staples for the upcoming holidays, order a bulk bag of yeast. I store mine in a cylindrical, plastic tupperware-type vessel in the fridge.

Also, I must confess, I didn't have raisins on hand when I set out to make this bread and so should have titled this post "Cinnamon Bread," but that just sounds wrong. All I'm saying is that with or without raisins, this recipe is a winner.

Also, I am very excited to report that I won an autographed copy of Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day simply by leaving a comment on the blog Baking and Books. You, too, have a chance to win a cookbook every month. Stop by Baking and Books for more details.

Cinnamon-Raisin Buttermilk Bread
Yield = Three 1½-lb. loaves (these are smallish loaves) or Two loaves (which I prefer)

2 cups lukewarm water
1 cup buttermilk
1½ T. yeast
1½ T. kosher salt
1½ T. sugar
6½ cups unbleached, all-purpose flour
butter for greasing the pan
1½ tsp. ground cinnamon (I tripled the amount of cinnamon the second time around, so make your cinnamon-sugar mix according to taste.)
1/3 cup sugar
¾ cup raisins (if you are using them)
egg wash (I egg beaten with 1 tablespoon water)

1. Mixing and storing the dough: Mix the yeast, salt and sugar with the water and buttermilk in a 5-quart mixing bowl or a lidded (not airtight) food container.

2. Mix in the flour without kneading, using a spoon, a 14-cup capacity food processor (with dough attachment) or a heavy-duty stand mixer with dough hook. If you’re not using a machine, you may have to use wet hands to incorporate the last bit of flour.

3. Cover (not airtight) and allow to rest at room temperature until the dough rises and collapses or flattens on top, approximately 2 hours.

4. The dough can be used immediately after the initial rise, though it is easier to handle when cold. Refrigerate in a lidded (not airtight) container and use over the next 7 days.

5. On baking day, lightly grease a 9x4x3-inch nonstick loaf pan. Set aside. Dust the surface of the refrigerated dough with flour and cut off a 1½-pound (cantaloupe-size) piece. (Note: the original recipe yields 3 loaves. I prefer dividing the total amount of dough in half and making two larger loaves as opposed to three smallish loaves.) Dust with more flour and quickly shape into a ball by stretching the surface of the dough around to the bottom on all four sides, rotating the ball a quarter-turn as you go.

6. With a rolling pin, roll out the dough to an 18x16-inch rectangle (or about an 11x18-inch rectangle — just wider than the loaf pan) about ¼-inch thick, dusting the board and rolling pin with flour as needed. You may need to use a metal dough scraper to loosen rolled dough from the board as you are working with it.

7. Using a pastry brush, cover the surface of the dough lightly with egg wash. Mix together the sugar and cinnamon and sprinkle the mixture evenly over the dough. Distribute the raisins, if using.

8. Starting from the short side, roll it up jelly-roll style. Pinch the edges and ends together, tucking the ends under. Place the loaf seam-side down in the prepared pan. Allow to rest 1 hour and 40 minutes (or just 40 minutes if you’re using fresh, unrefrigerated dough.)

9. Twenty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 375ºF. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until golden brown. Remove from pan and allow to cool before slicing.

101 Gift Ideas And Maybe Many More

2008-12-05T02:46:00.000-08:00

Yikes! It's December 5th and I have yet to purchase A single Christmas gift. I seriously need to get cracking.

Fortunately I have a few ideas, which I've listed below. Readers, if you have anything to add to the list — a favorite food-related gift — please let me know and I will add it in the appropriate category. And fellow bloggers, if you have any go-to gift-giving recipes you have posted on your blogs, send me the link and I'll link back to you.

Happy Shopping!

The Gift of Chocolate

1. Box of chocolate truffles: My favorite chocolate truffles are Éclat's sea-salt topped, caramel-filled chocolate truffles. Éclat Chocolate: eclatchocolate.com; Vosges Haut Chocolate: vosgeschocolate.com; Richart Chocolates: richart-chocolates.com 2. Homemade chocolate truffles and a truffle scoop (#100 scoop), with a printed recipe enclosed. 3. Homemade fudge or chocolate sauce packaged in a festive box or jar. 4. Homemade chocolate-dipped peanut butter balls with recipe enclosed. (They taste like Reese’s peanut butter cups, but better.) 5. Homemade hot cocoa mix with instructions and homemade (or store-bought) marshmallows. Package mix in a jar wrapped with a festive bow; package marshmallows in a cellophane bag tied with a bow. 6. Fair Trade chocolate bars. My favorite brand is Chocolove. 7. Gift Certificates to places such as Ritz Carlton Dessert Buffet or Four Seasons Dessert Buffet. (In Philadelphia there is the Naked Chocolate Café ... I'm sure your town, wherever you are, has some place similar.)

The Gift of Cheese

8. Tub of quince membrillo with a wedge of Roncal, Manchego, Zamorano or Idiazabal. Contact your local cheesemonger or Whole Foods Market. 9. Artisan Spanish fig cake, made with dried fruit and nut and a wedge of Garroxta. 10. Jar of lavender honey (Williams Sonoma) with a wedge of blue cheese such as Bleu de Basques. 11. Aged balsamic vinegar (A particularly good brand is Villa Mondori sold at Williams Sonoma for $49.95) with a wedge of Parmigiano Reggiano. 12. Jar of truffled honey with a wedge of aged Manchego. 13. Slate, wooden or ceramic cheese platter with serving knives. (Any kitchen wares shop). 14. Small wedges of assorted cheeses chosen by country such as France (Brin D’Amour, L’Edel De Cleron, Abbaye de Belloc, Tomme de Savoie, Chaource, Bleu D’auvergne, Bleu des Causses) or America (Humbolt Fog, Birchrun Hills Farm Blue, Berkshire Blue, Grafton Classic Two-Year Cheddar, Jasper Hill Farm Constant Bliss, Jasper Hill Farm Winnemere) or Spain (Ibores, Queso de La Serena, Roncal, Monte Enebro, Cabrales) found at any cheese shop with several boxes of 34º Crackers — best crackers to serve with cheese. I am obsessed.15. Cheese books: Two informative, coffee-table-style books by Max McCalman and David Gibbons: Cheese: A Connoisseur’s Guide to the World’s Best and The Cheese Plate; and an excellent reference by Steven Jenkins: The Cheese Primer 16. Membership to a Cheese of the month club: MurraysCheese.com; Igourmet.com; Artisanalcheese.com; FormaggioKitchen.com 17. A ball of local or imported Burrata, box of gray salt, and bottle of Temecula Olive Oil Company extra virgin olive oil.

The Gift of Fruit

18. Jar of homemade quince jam or apple sauce or a block of homemade quince membrillo. 19. Jar of apple butter, pumpkin butter or pear butter. Check a local farmers' market. 20. A tray of the juiciest, most delectable Florida grapefruits: Pell’s Citrus and Nursery. 21. Box of Royal Riviera pears from Harry and David with a wedge of Stilton.

The Gift of Cheer

(Note: Many of these ideas are Philly specific. I've included them on the list anyway hoping they might spark an idea.)

22. Three bottles of wine: One to open now; one to enjoy in five years; and one to savor in 10 years. Consult a local sommelier. 23. From Moore Brothers, (specific to Philly and NYC) the Bon Marche Collection (six whites, six reds $125); or the Courtier Collection (six whites, six reds $175); or the Moore Brothers Six Pack (three whites, three reds $75). Each collection comes with anecdotal and technical tasting notes on each of the wines. 24. Bottle of a special dessert wine such as Aged Port, Madeira, Ice Wine, Sauternes, Sherry 25. Bottle of Single Malt Scotch with a pair of scotch glasses. 26. DVDs: Bottle Shock (2008): Sideways (2004); Mondovino (2004) 27. American Vintage wine biscuits So yummy. 28. Gift certificate to a local wine or beer shop such as Moore Brothers or The Foodery (Philly). 29. Books: Oxford Companion to Wine by Jancis Jobinson; The World Atlas of Wine by Hugh Johnson and Jancis Robinson; What to Drink with What You Eat by Andrew Dornenburg, Karen Page, and Michael Sofronski; Making Sense of Wine by Matt Kramer; The Brewmaster’s Table by Garrett Oliver 30. Local spirits or wine such as a bottle of Bluecoat Gin (Philly) or assortment of Chaddsford wines. You may have to do a little research to find a local wine or spirit maker but they exist everywhere. 31. From the Foodery (Philly), a mixed six-pack of festive winter brews or one of several gift sets such as the Hobgoblin gift set ($21.95), Historic Ales From Scotland ($12.95), Val Dieu Gift Set ($23.95), St. Bernardus ($17.95), Christmas in Belgium Gift Set ($29.95), or the Chimay Gift Set ($13.95). 32. From the Foodery or online, a bottle of Mad Elf Ale made by Tröegs ($65.95 for .8 gallons) or a bottle of Samichlaus Bier ($124.95 for 3L). 33. Homemade coasters or trivets made from corks. 34. Built N.Y. BYOB wine or beer tote or a white wine freezer sleeve. 35. Special equipment such as antique ice tongs, Riedel glasses (Target sells a line of reasonably priced Riedel glasses), ice bucket, engraved cocktail shaker. 36. Membership to a wine or beer-of-the-month club. I wish I could recommend one in particular, but alas I have no first-hand knowledge of one specifically.

The Gift of Breakfast Treats

37. Homemade granola. For a nice presentation, fill airtight canisters with the granola and wrap with a festive bow. 38. Tin of McCann’s steel cut oatmeal, a package of medjool dates, and a jar of cinnamon with a recipe attached. 39. Yogurt maker. (Salton yogurt maker on Amazon.com) 40. Homemade muesli 41. An eight-inch nonstick pan (the perfect omelet pan), a heat-proof spatula and instructions for “how to make a fines herbes omelet” printed from JacquesPepin.net.

Stocking Stuffers

42. A wooden reamer. 43. Kuhn Rikon Peeler ($3.50 to $3.99 — Best peeler ever.) 44. Bench scraper (a great tool both for cleaning cutting boards and cutting dough — any kitchen wares shop) 45. Oxo measuring spoons and measuring cups. Note: The unconventional sizes (2/3, ¾, and 1½ cups) are a nice addition to any collection. 46. Bottle of truffle oil. 47. Homemade spiced nuts or candied pecans. 48. Assorted spices from Penzeys Spices such as Ceylon True Cinnamon; Aleppo Pepper; Szechuan Peppercorns or Punjabi Style Garam Masala. 49. Bottle of Madagascar vanilla and vanilla beans from Penzeys Spices. 50. Assorted hot sauces. (For dangerously hot hot sauces — only for extreme dare devils — contact the owner of Pica Peppers at james@picapeppers.com).

The Gift of Sweets

51. Tin of assorted homemade cookies, Bourbon balls, Maris' Biscotti etc. 52. Jars of the best candied pecans ever, sold at Fork:etc in Philadelphia. These pecans are made in small batches by the mother of Fork’s owner, Ellen Yin. Call before to see if they are still available: (215) 625-9425 / www.forkrestaurant.com 53. One giant (large) homemade chocolate chip cookie, packaged in a cellophane bag and tied with a festive ribbon. 54. Espresso caramels. 55. Assorted homemade, white chocolate- and dark chocolate-dipped biscotti. 56. Tin of brownies and blondies. 57. Homemade peppermint patties. 58. A tin of Daley Family toffee.

The Gift of Baking

59. A Silpat, an essential tool for bakers. 60. Cookbooks such as Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoe Francois (an awesome book with simple bread-making recipes) or The Bread Baker’s Apprentice by Peter Reinhart (complex recipes, yet very informative) or Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan. 61. From the Baker’s Catalog, 16 oz. bag SAF yeast (to be stored indefinitely in the freezer), assorted flours, Salter digital scale. 62. A giant cupcake/muffin pan such as the “Texas muffin pan” from the Baker’s Catalog.

The Gift of Caffeine

63. Bags of whole bean or ground Fair Trade coffee. 64. Gift certificate to a local, independent coffee house such as Joe Coffee Bar (Philly) 65. French press coffee maker. 66. Nespresso Espresso Machine 67. Nespresso Aeroccino 68. No. 66 and 67 together. 69. Francis Francis Espresso Machine. (For someone you really really really love) 70. Fun espresso cups. 71. Green Tea whisk with box of matcha green tea powder 72. Fun teapot with a funky tea cozy. 73. Homemade chai tea, packaged in glass milk bottle with a recipe attached. 74. “French press” teapot such as the Bodum glass teapot.

For the Gourmand in General:

75. Anything sold at the Temecula Olive Oil Company from the incredibly delicious olive oils and vinegars to the biscotti to the olives and the list goes on. 76. If local to San Diego, homemade pasta or sauces from Delaney's Culinary Fresh. 77. Assortment of cured meats such as Capicola, Toscano Salami and Saucisson Sec. 78. Gift Certificates to favorite cookware or food shops (Philly: Fante’s, Foster’s, Kitchen Kapers, Williams Sonoma, Claudio’s, DiBruno Brothers, Talluto’s, Gourmet of Old City, Cookbook Stall in Reading Terminal Market) or favorite restaurants, etc. 79. Fun Aprons such as Now Design aprons or dishtowels or fancy French polishing rags. 80. Homemade muffin/cupcake/cake mixes. Simply mix the dry ingredients for a standard recipe, package it in a cellophane bag tied with a festive ribbon and supply a recipe. 81. Mini loaf of pumpkin bread baked in decorative paper loaf pans. 82. The most delicious rosemary shortbread packed in a stationary box with printed recipe attached. (Recipe to be supplied shortly). 83. Assortment of local honeys, maple syrups, and jams. 84. Pizza stone, pizza peel, bag of high-gluten flour. 85. Vintage food or wine calendar. 86. A large cutting board — an essential tool for every kitchen — such as the Boos Edge-Grain Maple Cutting Board, 24" x 18", $80.00. 87. Pasta maker, bag of “perfect pasta blend” flour from KingArthurFlour.com, and a recipe for homemade ravioli. 88. Invite someone to customize a 100-recipe hardcover cookbook with photos using TasteBook on Epicurious.com. 89. Recipe binder set from Russell and Hazel. 90. A fancy Williams Sonoma timer. 91. American Tuna — the best canned tuna. AT is the only tuna fishery in the world certified by the Marine Stewardship Council. 92. Basic/essential knife set from Wusthof.com: 1 classic chef’s knife (From Wüsthof classic series, 9” cook’s knife), large serrated (From Wüsthof classic series, 8” bread knife), paring knife (From Wüsthof classic series, 4” paring knife) 94. From Wüsthof classic series, the two-piece carving set (8” carving knife and 6” straight meat fork) 95. Lodge cast iron grill/griddle pan, spans two burners, reversible or a Staub "cocotte." 96. Set of plain or chocolate croissants from Williams-Sonoma. 97. Assortment of gourmet SALTs such as Maldon sea salt, Peruvian pink salt, gray salt and Fleur de Sel. (www.salttraders.com) 98. One-year subscription to a Cooking Magazine: Saveur, Fine Cooking, Cook’s, Gourmet, Bon Appetit, Food and Wine, Martha Stewart, Cooking Light, Edible Communities or Real Simple. 99. Food Movies: Mostly Martha, Ratatouille, Babette’s Feast, Like Water for Chocolate, Chocolat, Tortilla Soup, Eat Drink Man Woman, Big Night, Tampopo 100. Food Books: Heat, Bill Buford; My Life in France, Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme; The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan; Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, Barbara Kingsolver or cookbooks to a favorite restaurant such as Zuni Cafe, Tartine or Balthazar.

The Gift of Charity

101. Make a donation to a food-focused charity in someone else’ name: Coffee Kids (www.coffeekids.org); Heifer International (800-422-0474 / heifer.org); Farm Aid (800-327-6243 / farmaid.org); Share Our Strength (800-969-4767 /strength.org); BloggerAid and Philly based: Philabundance (215-339-0900 / philabundance.org) and White Dog Community Enterprises (215-386-5211 / whitedogcafefoundation.org). Or, host a Drop In And Decorate party and donate your creations to a local food pantry, emergency shelter, senior center, lunch program, or other community agency serving neighbors in need.

Honey-Buttermilk Dinner Rolls, Poached Pears & Aunt Vicki's Salad Dressing

2008-11-21T09:33:00.000-08:00

Oh my. I cannot believe Thanksgiving is almost here. I know everyone is very busy preparing, so let's keep this short and sweet, k?

If you get anything out of this post, I hope it is this:

1. A yummy recipe for buttermilk dinner rolls, perfect for the holiday table and a great way to use up a left-over buttermilk.

2. A delectable salad dressing made with reduced orange juice and white balsamic vinegar. This dressing is particularly nice with wintery salads — endive, shaved fennel, apple, pear, oranges, etc.

3. And a simple method to poach pears. Ready? Combine equal parts white wine and sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a simmer. Add peeled, halved and cored pears. Reduce heat to low. Cover and simmer for about 10 minutes. Check with a paring knife — pears should be tender but not mushy. Turn off the heat, remove pears and let cool to room temperature. Save the poaching liquid for another use. Slice pears further if desired. (Note: I used ½ cup of wine and sugar for about 4 pears. Nice additions to the poaching liquid include orange zest, cinnamon stick and vanilla bean.)

OK, let's get started.

First, these rolls. Looking for a way to use up a half-quart of buttermilk, I stumbled upon this recipe for honey buttermilk bread. I simplified the recipe a little bit, divided the dough into two big portions and made dinner rolls with half the batch and a regular-sized loaf with the other. The dinner rolls I devoured in about a day-and-a-half. The loaf, I sliced and froze and have been toasting every morning, spreading with apple butter, cinnamon and sugar, and sometimes just butter and salt. So yummy.

Here's the recipe:

Honey-Buttermilk Dinner Rolls
Adapted from the blog, The Baking Sheet
Yield = Two Dozen 2-oz. rolls or one large loaf

2½ teaspoons active dry yeast (rapid rise is fine, too)
2 cups buttermilk, room temperature is ideal — bread will take longer to rise if you use cold buttermilk
2 T. honey
4½ cups flour, plus more while kneading or mixing
2 tsp. kosher salt

1. Combine yeast, buttermilk and honey in the bowl of a stand mixer or, if kneading by hand, in a large bowl. Whisk until combined. It's OK if a few lumps of yeast remain.

2. Add the flour and salt to the mixer and with the dough hook attachment (or your hands), knead for about 10 minutes or until dough is pulling away from the sides of the bowl and forming a mass around the hook. I probably added an additional cup of flour.

3. After 10 minutes, transfer the dough to a large, lightly oiled bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise in a warm spot for about two hours (may take as long as four) or until doubled in bulk. Longer is fine, too. Punch down dough, and decide what you are going to make — rolls, loaves, boules, etc.

If making rolls, begin portioning the bread into about 2-ounce pieces — if you don't have a digital scale, just use your eye to judge. It is best to cut with a dough scraper or a sharp knife. (Alternatively, cut the dough in half, then divide each half into about 12 equal portions. Err on keeping the rolls smallish.) Round each portion of dough into a ball and place on a parchment-lined (or oiled) baking sheet. Preheat the oven to 375ºF. Let rolls rise for about 40 minutes. Bake rolls for 15-20 minutes, or until golden brown — check the bottoms of the rolls because they will brown first.)

If making a loaf, place dough in a greased loaf pan. Let rise until almost doubled, about 40 minutes. Bake 45 minutes, until loaf is browned and sounds hollow when tapped. Let cool for 30 minutes before slicing.

I first tasted this salad dressing when Aunt Vicki made a Greek salad for a dinner party this summer. I love its versatility — it is delicious with romaine, endive, baby spinach, arugula, etc. I think it is a perfect dressing for this Thanksgiving salad.

Aunt Vicki’s Salad Dressing
Yield = 1¾ cups

2 cups orange juice
¼ cup white balsamic vinegar, (regular is fine, too)
kosher salt and pepper to taste
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil
¼ cup chopped scallions, green part only, cut on the diagonal (optional — I don’t add the scallions because I like to keep a jar of this in my fridge for a long time)

1. In a small saucepan, bring the orange juice to a simmer over medium-low heat and cook until it has reduced to ½ cup, about 10 minutes. Remove from heat, transfer to a medium-sized bowl and allow to cool to room temperature. Once cool, whisk in the vinegar and salt and pepper to taste. Slowly whisk in the olive oil. Transfer to a jar and store in refrigerator until ready to serve. Bring to room temperature before using.

This is a little mock cover I had to create for my photoshop class. It's a little busy for my liking, but we had certain criteria we had to follow to get full credit.

Candied Pecans & A Thanksgiving Day Salad

2008-11-13T08:43:00.000-08:00

So, you see my vision. It's nothing earth-shattering. A classic combination, really. But a timeless one, and one I think will be festive for Thanksgiving Day.

So, to execute this salad, all I need to finish tweaking is my recipe for poached pears. The pecans I've got down to a science, (for me at least — I'll explain in a bit); the dressing, made with reduced orange juice, white balsamic vinegar and olive oil, has been tested countless times (Aunt Vicki's recipe, to be provided next week); the blue cheese (perhaps Stilton or Maytag) and the endive merely need to be purchased. The pears, however, have been giving me a little trouble this past week. I've been working with a combination of white wine, sugar, orange zest, cinnamon stick and vanilla bean. Something is not quite right yet. Any suggestions are welcome.

Now, about these pecans. I've been making this recipe for several years now, and I find it produces the crunchiest, most delicious candied pecans. I'm not promising a simple and foolproof recipe, however. It's the kind of recipe, in fact, that could potentially lead you to swear off my recipes altogether.

The first two-thirds of the recipe is simple: the pecans are blanched for two minutes, then simmered in simple syrup for five minutes. The final third of the process, which calls for deep-frying the pecans, is where problems can arise. I suggest using a deep fryer with a built in thermometer. My deep fryer continues to exist in my kitchen solely for the purpose of making these pecans — it keeps the oil at 375ºF, which is key for this recipe. I tried deep-frying the pecans in a heavy-bottomed pot on my stovetop once, and the process was so frustrating: At first the oil was too hot, then it wasn't hot enough, and before I had finished frying, I had ruined nearly half the batch.

The key, I've learned, is to let the pecans fry for about 3 to 5 minutes — the longer they fry, the crunchier they will be. However, they must be removed from the oil before they burn, and they continue to cook a little bit once they've been removed from the oil. It's a trial-and-error process, but one well worth it in the end. I highly recommend using a deep fryer with a built-in thermometer, but if you are comfortable with stove-top deep frying, by all means go for it.

Candied Pecans

1 lb. raw (unblanched, unsalted) pecans = 4 heaping cups
1 1/3 cups sugar

1. Bring a medium pot of water to a boil. Add pecans and simmer for 2 minutes. Drain and rinse under cold water.

2. Combine the sugar with 1 cup of water and bring to a simmer. Simmer for 2 minutes, add pecans and simmer for 5 minutes. Drain.

3. Meanwhile, preheat a deep fryer to 375ºF, or pour canola or peanut oil into a heavy-bottomed pot to reach at least one-inch up the sides and fix a deep-fry thermometer to its side. When oil is ready, fry pecans for 3 to 5 minutes in small batches. This will be a trial-and-error process. The longer the pecans fry, the crunchier they will be. If the oil is too hot, they’ll burn before they get crispy. So, fry the pecans in small batches until you can read your oil. Remove pecans from fryer with a slotted spoon or spider and let drain on cooling rack or parchment paper — not paper towels. Repeat process until all pecans are fried. Refrain from sampling until the pecans have cooled completely — they’ll be crunchier and tastier when they are completely cool.

This recipe begins with raw (unblanched, unroasted, unsalted) pecans:

They are blanched for two minutes in boiling water, then drained:

Then they simmer in a sugar syrup for five minutes:

Then they are drained again before being deep-fried for three to five minutes.

Stir-Fried Veggies and Tofu

2008-11-06T10:03:00.001-08:00

What makes a good stir-fry?

Sometimes all I want for dinner is a big bowl of steaming rice (or noodles) topped with stir-fried veggies, tofu, perhaps a little meat, and, maybe (always) a fried egg. And so, my friends, I ask you, what makes a good stir-fry?

Is it the farmers' market veggies?

Is it the wok?

Is it the non-farmers' market add-ins?

Is it how the veggies are chopped?

Is it the sauce?
Stir-Fry Sauce
Adapted from this 1995 Bon Appetite recipe

¼ cup soy sauce
¼ cup Sherry
1 T. honey
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp. orange zest

Whisk ingredients. Set aside until ready to cook.

Is it the rice?
(This is brown basmati, but I would love to get my hands on some of that short-grained brown rice served at Chinese restaurants.)

Is it the Sriracha?
Dousing the bowl with Sriracha is a must.

Simple Stir-Fry:

I wish I could give more detailed instructions/measurements, but this truly is a no-measure recipe.

1. Cook rice — whatever you like. Set aside. Prepare sauce (recipe above). Set aside.

2. Chop all of your ingredients. The stir-fry takes five minutes of cooking once all the veggies are prepared, so it's best to have everything chopped ahead of time. This is what I used: onion, cabbage, baby bok choy, rapini, cilantro, snow peas, zucchini, scallions, tofu and peanuts. Be sure to wash the bok choy.

3. Heat wok with about one tablespoon of canola oil until smoking hot. (Alternatively, heat wok without oil, then add oil once hot — I'm not really sure what the difference is, but I think it depends on your pan.) Add tofu cubes and let brown until nice and crispy on one side, about 1 to 2 minutes. Remove tofu from wok and set aside.

4. Add onions and zucchini to wok. Let cook until onions are slightly browned. Refrain from stirring — just let the vegetables brown. Add the cabbage, rapini, and bok choy and cook for another two minutes. Stir briefly. Add, the snow peas, scallions, cilantro and peanuts. Add about a ¼ cup (or less) of the sauce and let cook for about a minute. Add the tofu. Turn off the heat. Top rice with veggies and douse with Sriracha.

Orange & Olive Oil Cake, Perhaps for Election Day

2008-10-29T10:24:00.000-07:00

I hate to be Debbie Downer, but I must share some disheartening news with you about olive oil. The extra-virgin olive oil you find at your local supermarket very likely is not extra-virgin at all. It turns out that the USDA doesn't even recognize classifications such as “extra-virgin.” As a result, bottlers all over the world can blend olive oil with cheaper vegetable oils and sell it for a premium price as “extra-virgin." If you care to learn more about the widespread fraud in the olive oil industry read this: Slippery Business, The New Yorker, August 13, 2007.

A recent visit to the Temecula Olive Oil Company's shop forever changed how I think about olive oil. I learned so many incredible things, but I cannot, I regret, share them all with you at this moment. You'll just have to trust me that the company is awesome, their olive oil is delicious, and, as with all foods it seems, it pays to know your grower.

Now, about this recipe. I made this cake — a longtime family favorite — using the TOOC's citrus extra-virgin oil, and never has it tasted so delicious. I didn't even use fresh-squeezed orange juice (the horror!). As you can see, I baked this batch in my mini springform pans, but a standard 9-inch springform pan works just as well. This cake puffs up a touch when it bakes, and sinks slightly when it cools. It is moist and delicious, perfect with coffee or tea, and only needs a dusting of powdered sugar to make it fit for consumption.

Note: If you cannot get TOOC extra-virgin olive oil or any other extra-virgin oil you know to be from a credible source, use an olive oil as opposed to an extra-virgin olive oil. I've made this cake with e.v.o.o. from the grocery store and the taste is too overpowering. That is not the case, however, with TOOC oil.

Oh, and apparently it's tradition to make a cake on Election Day. My mother recently emailed me an article that offers several accounts of the cake's history, which dates to 1771.

Oh, and if you're looking to bake a traditional Election Day cake next Tuesday, here's a recipe:

Election Cake - Thirty quarts of flour, 10 pound butter, 14 pound sugar, 12 pound raisins, 3 doz eggs, one pint wine, one quart brandy, 4 ounces cinnamon, 4 ounces fine colander seed, 3 ounces ground alspice; wet flour with milk to the consistence of bread over night, adding one quart yeast; the next morning work the butter and sugar together for half an hour, which will render the cake much lighter and whiter; when it has rise light work in every other ingredient except the plumbs, which work in when going into the oven.

Recipe from Amelia Simmon's cookbook American Cookery, 2nd Edition, 1796.

Orange And Olive Oil Cake
Yield = One 9-inch cake or six 4-inch cakes, Serves 10-12 people

Butter for greasing the pan
1½ cups all-purpose flour
½ tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. baking soda
pinch of salt
2 eggs
1¾ cups sugar
2 tsp. grated orange zest
2/3 cup freshly squeezed orange juice (the juice from about 2 oranges)
2/3 cup olive oil, such as any made by the Temecula Olive Oil Company,

Note: If you cannot get TOOC oil or oil you know to be from a credible source, use olive oil as opposed to extra-virgin olive oil.

1. Preheat the oven to 375ºF. Butter a springform pan (or pans) or a 9-inch cake pan. (If using a cake pan, place a round of parchment paper in the bottom of the pan.)

2. Whisk together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.

3. With an electric mixer, beat the eggs until blended, then gradually add in the sugar, beating until thick. The mixture will be pale yellow. In a separate bowl, whisk the zest, juice and oil. Add to the egg mixture in thirds alternating with the flour mixture.

4. Spread batter into pan and bake for about 50 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool on rack for 15 minutes.

5. Sift confectioners’ sugar over top before cutting and serving.

Pipe Dream

2008-10-23T18:01:00.000-07:00

I have two dreams in life: 1. To open and run a little cafe. 2. To start a farm. Today, let's explore dream number one, an idea a college friend and I have been scheming for years.

The cafe might be called something like Olalie, open for breakfast and lunch daily from 6am to 3pm. My friend, a lovely girl, would run the front of the house, wooing customers with her big smile and California charm. I would be the devil in the back of the house, running a tight ship, raising hell when my little culinary student interns burn the croissants and overcook the oatmeal. And if all goes as planned, around 10 am everyday, when the grunt work is completed, my friend and I would turn the reins over to our obedient staff while we dipped biscotti in our cappuccinos and read the newspaper on our sunlit patio.

At Olalie, we would serve coffee and tea, homemade muffins and scones, wood-burning-oven-baked breads and pizzas, salads and soups, house-made granola and steel cut oatmeal. Maybe even delicious creations such as the sandwich pictured above. All of our ingredients would, of course, come from local farmers or Fair Trade vendors and would change with the seasons, peaches in the summer, persimmons in the fall. I have yet to create our signature, Olalie coffee cake, but I suppose I still have a time.

I know, I know. Let me dream.

The projected grand opening of Olalie Cafe and Bakery is September 2020. I've heard, however, one can never be too prepared. And so, I've started to draft our marketing material:
This folder, created in 2003, holds all of the recipes we will use at Olalie's.
With any luck, our cafe will draw a loyal following, much like San Francisco's Tartine:
And, after years of honing our skills as restaurateurs, we will turn that folder of recipes into a fantastic cookbook. I am so excited about my latest purchase: The Tartine Cookbook:

Gateau Tiede Aux Poires Mas De Cure Bourse

2008-10-17T01:40:00.001-07:00

Surely you've heard of Gateau Tiede Aux Poires Mas De Cure Bourse. No? The best translation I've found so far is this: Delectable Pear Custardy Caramel.

Attention all crème brulée, tarte tatin and crème caramel lovers. Here is another recipe that must be added to your repertoire, especially now during pear season. Apples would make a fine substitute as would quince, (though the quince might need some preliminary cooking. Maybe? Maybe not.) For my mother, this recipe rivals Balzano Apple Cake — my favorite fall (maybe, all-time) dessert, a recipe everyone should try, at least once.

Just a slight warning about the preparation of this gateau: Nothing about it feels natural. If you are out of practice cooking sugar, the first step might turn you away. Don't be afraid. It's quite quite simple. Moreover, the recipe calls for a sprinkling of yeast. Again, don't worry — no rising or proofing is called for. And lastly, the batter in its final state looks like a curdled mess. But fear not. In the oven, the caramel, pears and batter combine to form, as my mother described, a delectable custardy goodness.

Gateau Tiede Aux Poires Mas De Cure Bourse
Serves 4 to 6

1 cup sugar
1¼ tsp. yeast
4 large ripe pears, about 2 pounds, (Bartlett or Anjou), peeled, cored and sliced very thin
1/3 cup flour
4 large eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
7 T. unsalted butter, room temperature

1. Preheat oven to 300 degrees. Butter a 9”-round cake tin. In a large skillet cook ¾ cup of the sugar over moderate heat until it begins to melt. Continue cooking until it turns a golden caramel. Meanwhile, sprinkle the yeast over one tablespoon of lukewarm water.
2. Pour the hot caramel into prepared pan. Make sure caramel covers the bottom. (If your caramel has hardened up before you allow it to cover the bottom of the pan, place the pan, using potholders, over one of your stovetop burners and hover it over the heat until the caramel begins to melt.) Arrange thinly sliced pears in slightly overlapping circles on top of caramel.
3. In a large bowl, beat the eggs, then add the flour, 1/4 c. sugar, the yeast mixture and vanilla. In another large bowl (sorry about all of the bowls!) beat the butter with an electric mixer (or standmixer) until smooth. Add the egg mixture and beat until the mixture is combined well, but do not overbeat. It will look slightly curdled. Pour the mixture over the pears being careful not to dislodge the pears.
4. Bake the cake on the middle rack for one hour or until golden. Let cool on rack for five minutes and then run a knife around the edges, and invert onto a large dish or platter deep enough so the syrup won’t flow over the edges. Serve warm.

Pizza Pizza

2008-10-09T14:18:00.000-07:00

I am resolved. I am resolved never to make another recipe for pizza dough. Seriously. This is it. My family has been making this recipe for years and it is incredibly delicious. Tried and True. Foolproof. No tweaking necessary. Caramelized onions, grapes (or figs), gorgonzola and mascapone (or some other creamy cheese like ricotta) is one of our favorite combinations.

These strong feelings stem partly from several recent failed experiments but also because I am realizing now truly wonderful homemade pizza is. Really, for me, the idea of a perfect dinner is this: several of these thin-crust pizzas (each topped differently), a salad (a homemade Caesar salad sounds nice at the moment) and a glass (OK, a bottle) of wine.

I can think of only one thing that might — MIGHT — improve this recipe: A wood-burning oven. Which I intend to build soon. Or, let's say within the next six months. Seriously. It only takes a day-and-a-half to build. It's just a matter of getting organized. I saw the construction of a wood-burning, adobe oven in San Francisco at Slow Food Nation last month, and I have been wanting my very own ever since. There are two pics at the bottom of this post of the oven I plan to build and there are several other pictures of the adobe-oven-making process here.

This recipe yields enough dough to serve about 6 to 8 people. I am submitting this recipe to the World Food Day blog event. Created by Val of More Than Burnt Toast and Ivy of Kopiaste, this event seeks to raise awareness about world hunger: Around the globe there are 862 million undernourished people. Since 1945, October 16 marks World Food Day, an event created by the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations. To participate in the blog event, follow these instructions.

Want to build your own adobe oven, too? Buy this book: Build Your Own Earth Oven. I met the authors at SFN and they were pretty awesome. I also just found this article on Sunset.com — it might be interesting to compare the two methods: Sunset's Classic Adobe Oven

These pizzas take about 10 minutes at 500ºF. When they emerge from the oven, all they need is a sprinkling of fresh herbs and perhaps, but not critically, a drizzling of olive oil.

One key to making a good pizza is this: keep toppings to a minimum. A thin layer of yummy ingredients is all this is needed. It helps keep the crust crisp and allows you to taste the dough. (I may have over done it a bit here. Refraining from overloading the dough is a true skill.)

This adobe oven was made in one-and-a-half days. Supplies, if I recall correctly, cost under $50. I am dying to make one.

Pizza Dough
Adapted from Todd English’s The Figs Table
Makes 4 8- to 10-inch pizzas (Serves 1 to 2 people per pizza)

¼ cup whole wheat flour
3½ cups all-purpose flour, plus additional for rolling
2 teaspoons kosher salt
1 2/3 cups lukewarm water
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons active-dry yeast
2 teaspoons olive oil

1. Place the flours and salt in a stand mixer fitted with a dough hook. (Or knead by hand. I have not had luck making this in the food processor — the engine starts smoking after about five minutes.) Combine the water, sugar and yeast in a small bowl and let sit for five minutes until the mixture bubbles slightly. Add the olive oil and stir. With the mixer on low, gradually add the oil-water mixture into the bowl. Knead until the dough is firm and smooth, under 10 minutes. The dough will be very wet and sort of difficult to work with. I liberally coat my hands with flour before attempting to remove it.

2. Divide the dough into four balls, about 7½ ounces each. Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper. (Be sure to oil the parchment paper.) Place two balls on a sheet. Lightly rub the balls with olive oil, then cover loosely with plastic wrap. The dough is very sticky and wet, so, be sure to coat the balls or the plastic with oil. Let the balls rise in a warm spot until they have doubled in bulk, about two hours.

3. To roll out the dough: Dab your fingers in flour and then place one ball on a generously floured work surface. Press down in the center with the tips of your fingers, spreading the dough with your hand. When the dough has doubled in width, use a floured rolling pin (or continue using floured hands if you are skilled at making pizzas) and roll out until it is very thin, like flatbread. The outer portion should be a little thicker than the inner portion.

Note: This dough freezes beautifully. After the initial rise, punch down the dough, wrap it in plastic and place in a Ziplock bag. Freeze for several months. When ready to use, let sit at room temperature for about an hour, then proceed with rolling/topping/baking.

Baking:

1. Preheat the oven to 500ºF. Line a sheetpan with parchment paper. Place rolled out dough onto parchment paper. Drizzle dough with a little olive oil and with your hand, rub it over the surface to coat evenly.

2. Top with a thin layer of your choice toppings. Here I used caramelized onions, grapes, gorgonzola and mascapone cheese. (The mascapone is really wonderful). Place in your very hot oven and bake for about 10 minutes or until the crust is slightly brown and the cheese is melting.

3. Remove from the oven and sprinkle with fresh basil. A drizzling of extra-virgin olive oil is nice. I used a little bit of truffle oil, which would be wonderful over a mushroom pizza.

Swiss Chard Tart

2008-10-06T22:36:00.000-07:00

I have an excellent recipe for a buttery, cornmeal tart shell. It NEVER fails to please. Why then, I ask you, must I continue to experiment with other recipes? Oiy. Rarely do they measure up. Tonight I'm annoyed. Truly. I mean, this tart would have been unbelievably delectable had I just stuck to the tried-and-true recipe I know.

Alas. This tart closely resembles the breakfast pizza I made several months ago. The topping is nearly identical: sautéed Swiss chard with garlic, grated cheese (whatever you have on hand), and a couple of eggs — a combination I really adore. OK, fine, I adore eggs on everything, but you know what I mean.

So, I can't in good conscience leave you with a foolproof recipe today, but I can give you some guidance. Use this recipe for the tart shell and follow this recipe for the topping. Combine the two and you'll likely create a yummy dinner. Again, I regret, I am leaving you with yet another recipe that must be revisited shortly.

My Swiss chard plants are still going strong. In fact, they have been consistently productive since I planted them. For all of you novice gardeners out there, Swiss chard is a great vegetable to start a garden with — it is easy to grow and very tasty.

Fresh Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream

2008-10-03T06:31:00.000-07:00

What do you get when you combine heavy cream, half and half, egg yolks, sugar, fresh mint and dark chocolate? Absolute, pure, utter and complete deliciousness. I don't know what else to say about this mint chocolate chip ice cream except that it is one of the best things I have ever tasted. Ever. Seriously.

Fresh Mint Chocolate Chip Ice Cream
Adapted from Alice Q. Foodie's recipe

1 cup half and half
2 cups heavy cream
2 cups lightly packed mint leaves
5 egg yolks
¾ cup sugar
pinch salt
pure peppermint oil* (not extract), optional
1 cup chopped dark chocolate, such as Valrhona 70%, chopped with a chef's knife into ¼-inch pieces
*Peppermint oil can be found at specialty cookware shops. I found mine at Fante's in Philadelphia, but Alice Q. Foodie says Henry's Market carries it as well.

1. In a medium-sized saucepan, heat the cream and half and half with the mint leaves until it's good and hot but not boiling. (You can just touch it lightly with your finger to test it.) Cover pan and set aside to steep for 30 mins. Strain out mint and discard (or compost) it.

2. Whisk yolks in a large bowl. If your cream mixture is still relatively hot to the touch (which it should be after only 30 minutes), slowly ladle the mixture into the egg yolks whisking constantly. Transfer yolk-cream mixture back to the saucepan and add the sugar with a pinch of salt.

3. Cook the custard over medium heat for about ten minutes, stirring constantly with a wooden spoon or heat proof spatula. When the mixture begins to coat the back of the spoon, remove the pan from the heat. (If you have a thermometer, it should be about 170 degrees.)

4. Strain the hot custard into a bowl. If using the peppermint oil, take it and drip one or two drops into the cap of the bottle, then dip a toothpick in the oil and swish it through the custard mixture. (This stuff is powerful and can easily ruin a batch of custard if restraint is not used.)

5. Chill the mixture until completely cold. Churn in an ice cream maker. During the last few minutes of churning, add the chocolate chips. Freeze mixture until ready to serve.

The Secret To Lemon-Ricotta Pancakes

2008-09-28T14:50:00.000-07:00

Before I mislead you any further, I'm going to come clean. I don't know the secret to making lemon-ricotta pancakes. In fact, what I flipped around the griddle on Saturday morning was nothing short of a disaster. Breakfast was saved only by the bacon.

Which leads me to the "secret" I am referring to in the title. Several weeks ago, I was up in San Fran dining with a few friends for brunch. One of my friends was being particularly indecisive. I think he sent the waitress away twice, insisting that he "needed more time." My stomach grumbled while he wavered between the burger and the pancakes. He finally chose the pancakes, ordering a side of bacon to satisfy his grease craving. He promised the rest of us he would share.

And share we did. No sooner had the waitress dropped our food had we ordered another plate of bacon for the table. I had ordered the pancakes, too, and I have to say, with the addition of a few strips of crispy bacon, I don't think I've ever been more satisfied with a brunch order. I'm always tempted by dishes such as French toast, waffles and pancakes, but I always worry about missing the greasy, savory egg dishes. A side of bacon, I've discovered, is the perfect solution. So, I suppose, all I can share with you today is this: perhaps the secret to enjoying pancakes is to eat them with a little grease?

Now about these pancakes. Several years ago while visiting my sister in NYC, I ordered lemon-ricotta pancakes for brunch at Sarabeth's in the upper west side. I have been dreaming about them ever since and over the years have saved countless recipes from various newspapers and magazines. After comparing the recipes, including a handful from the blogosphere, I chose this one and set to work.

Now, I don't want to blame the recipe because I think I'm partly at fault. I have never figured out how to make pancakes. By the time I get my rhythm going and start cooking the pancakes properly, I've eaten about 100 and can hardly bear to look at the griddle any longer. That's precisely what happened this weekend. But even the pancakes that I believe I cooked properly lacked the flavor I remember so fondly. The lemon flavor certainly came through but the ricotta was indiscernible, likely a tribute to the icky ricotta I purchased at my grocery store.

So I wish wish wish I could leave you with an awesome recipe for lemon-ricotta pancakes, but alas I cannot. I am determined to make these again soon, however, and when I do, I hope to report back with more favorable results.

On a side note, imagine my excitement upon seeing this month's Saveur in my mailbox. Look at this cover! Pure genius. There's a nice little two-page spread offering detailed instructions for cooking eggs four ways: baked, sunny-side up, soft-boiled and scramble. Might be a good thing to tuck inside a cookbook for future reference. Just a thought.

Leftover Tortillas? Make a Quiche

2008-09-25T11:53:00.001-07:00

I hate wasting food. I really do. But sometimes, I stash things in the freezer merely to avoid the guilt of trashing food at the present moment. By "things" I mean 4 tortillas or 6 egg whites or the heels of a loaf of bread. I have good intentions. I really do. With the tortillas, I envision making a quick wrap for lunch one day. With the egg whites, an angel food cake. With the bread, homemade croutons.

These things sit — preserved, certainly — but effectively, trashed. Inevitably, I clean out the freezer several months down the road and toss the cracked tortillas and frost-encrusted heels of bread into the garbage can.

Anyway, last weekend, I rescued four flour tortillas from meeting their cold fate. When I spotted them in my fridge, I recalled a recipe I had seen on the Blue Heron Farm Web site for asparagus quiche that used tortillas as a shell. And then I played a game called "use every possible item of food in your fridge that can be sautéed and packed into a quiche shell." Never played? Give it a go. It's a great time. What's most fun about the game is that there are no rules: Expiration dates should be overlooked; mold, scraped away and sent down the disposal; shriveled, wilted vegetables, scrubbed and chopped as if they were new.

I wish I could say I were exaggerating. I'm not. I cut off serious mold from a pepper. I gave a block of cheese a chemical peel. I browned a questionable piece of several-days-old hamburger meat. The result? A yummy yummy quiche.

Step 1: Preheat the oven to 350ºF.

Step 2: Prep your ingredients. Here I have 1 bell pepper, 1 zucchini, 2 chipotles in adobo, 1 hot chili pepper, 1 tomato, leftover sautéed leeks, grated Parmigiano Reggiano and cilantro. Cook your ingredients. Sauté peppers and onions and such together. (I also had a leftover uncooked hamburger patty, so about 6 ounces of ground beef.) Season with salt and pepper. Add zucchini and tomatoes and cooked leeks. Add cilantro at the end. Note: This is just what I had on hand — use anything you have.

Step 3. Line a buttered dish, such as a 9-inch round baking or pie pan, with about 4 tortillas.Whisk together 3 eggs with 1/2 cup of milk in a large bowl. Add the prepped ingredients. Add the cheese and stir.

Step 4. Pour into prepared tortilla-lined pan. Bake for about 30 minutes or until set. Mixture should jiggle just slightly when shaken.

Step 5: Remove from the oven and let sit for 10 minutes before cutting. Ta-da! A simple simple quiche.

Corn Pudding

2008-09-22T17:03:00.001-07:00

Several years ago, I received two non-stick All-Clad mini baking pans as a birthday gift. They are adorable! And, before this evening, entirely useless. Tonight, I am happy to report, I finally found a use — a very good use — for them: corn pudding.

Corn pudding for two, that is. This original recipe, printed in the July 2007 issue of Gourmet, feeds 8-10 people as a side dish. It is such a wonderful recipe, and I made it several times last summer after hearing my mother rave. Tonight, in an effort to minimize potential leftovers, I made a third of the recipe and baked it in one of my adorable, All-Clad baking dishes. Success! I love this recipe. It takes only minutes to prepare and is a perfect late-summer, early-fall dish.

For the past few weeks I have been buying delectable corn at the San Clemente farmers' market from the same Carlsbad farmer that sells the Cherokee Purple tomatoes I have been obsessed with all summer. I am submitting this recipe to the September 20th Farmers' Market Report. If you have a farmers' market story/recipe/discovery you want to share, you can play, too. Just read the rules first, then submit your post.

Happy first day of fall.

Corn Pudding For Two
Serves 2 as a side dish
(Note: Click here for the recipe written to serve 8-10 people)

2 ears corn, kernels scraped from cob
cilantro or basil to taste
1 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon sugar
pinch kosher salt
2/3 cup 1%, 2% or whole milk
2 small or one large egg, lightly beaten

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF with rack in the middle. Butter a small shallow baking dish (such as the one pictured above) or individual crème brulee dishes or ramekins.

2. Pulse half of the corn in a food processor until coarsely chopped. Transfer to a bowl and stir in the herbs, flour, sugar, salt and remaining corn. Whisk together milk and eggs and add to bowl with the corn. Stir until just combined. Pour into baking dish or ladle into individual dishes.

3. Bake until the center is just set. About 30-35 minutes. (Maybe longer — I kind of lost track of time.) Let stand 15 minutes before serving.

Peach Blueberry Cake

2008-09-18T09:01:00.000-07:00

This recipe has so much potential. And I so badly want to rave about it. I mean, I have been snacking on it morning and night for the past two days. But something, I must confess, is not quite right.

This recipe appeared in the August 2005 issue of Gourmet. If you care to hear what other people think of the recipe, you can read the 143 reviews posted on Epicurious. Online, I just discovered, the recipe is prefaced with this:

We've received some letters from readers complaining about a burned crust when making the peach blueberry cake, so we ran through the recipe two more times. Baked in a standard light-colored metal pan, the cake was perfect; baked in a dark metal pan, however, it burned — be aware that the cake's high sugar content makes it more susceptible to burning at high heat.

A burnt crust was precisely the problem I ran into. The recipe calls for baking the cake at 375ºF for 1 hour and 45 minutes. 1 hour and 45 minutes! Does that sound crazy to you? I mean, sometimes I wonder what people (recipe writers) are thinking. I baked my cake at 350ºF for about 1 hour and 15 minutes because it smelt too good to leave in the oven any longer and the fruit looked bubbly and delicious. You can't see the pastry below the layer of stewing fruit, so there is no way of knowing if "the crust is golden" as the recipe suggests as a determining doneness factor.

When I bake this cake again — which I am determined to do before summer is over — I will bake it for one hour and see if that improves the texture of the crust, which in addition to being slightly burnt tasted slightly dry. When I bake it again, however, I might use a different pastry all together. My mother suggested using a shortbread pastry recipe from Chez Panisse Desserts, which she adores and which could be the perfect substitute for the current dough. All I know is this: whatever pastry is used in this dessert must be strong enough to support a thick layer of juicy, oozing fruit. And in an ideal world, it must be moist and delicious, too.

For all of you bakers out there, any suggestions?

Cake just before entering the oven:

Cake after resting for 20 minutes out of the oven:

Peach Blueberry Cake
Serves 8

1½ cups all-purpose flour
½ cup sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. kosher salt
1 stick (½ cup) cold unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch cubes
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla

½ cup sugar
2 tablespoons flour
2 lb. firm-ripe large peaches (about 4), halved lengthwise, pitted, and each half cut lengthwise into fourth or fifths
1 cup blueberries (fresh or frozen)
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
pinch salt

1. Make pastry. Pulse together flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a food processor until combined. Add butter and pulse until the mixture resembles coarse meal with pea-sized butter lumps. Add egg and vanilla and pulse just until the dough clumps into a ball, about 15 pulses.

2. With floured fingertips press dough onto bottom of an ungreased springform pan. Chill pastry in pan until firm, about 10 minutes.

3. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Combine remaining ingredients in a large bowl and toss until the fruit is evenly coated. Pour filling over chilled pastry and cover pan loosely with foil. Bake for about an hour, until filling is bubbling.

4. Transfer cake in pan to a rack and cool uncovered for 20 minutes. Remove sides of pan and cool longer or serve immediately with vanilla ice cream.

The pastry for this cake comes together quickly with just a few pulses in the food processor. Of course, it can be made by hand as well.

Michael Pollan's Nightmare, His Autograph & Some Thoughts From Slow Food Nation

2008-09-12T17:22:00.000-07:00

I had waited in line for one hour with six books in hand, when I saw him stand up. He's leaving, I thought. Michael Pollan is leaving. My heart sunk. I considered jumping out of line like a crazy woman to beg him to sign one more book before he left. An act of craziness, fortunately, was unnecessary.

Michael Pollan, who, next to Wendell Berry, was receiving little action at the book-signing table, had stepped out to meet the people in line. One by one, he greeted Slow Food devotees, engaged in small talk and signed books. When he reached me, I could hardly utter a word.

"Who should I make this out to?" he asked.

"Well, I'm Ali," I said. "And, I love your books," I blurted out.

"Well, Thanks Ali," he replied.

And that was it. A 30-second conversation. My heart was racing. But I'm not going to lie — I'm pretty psyched to have my copy of The Omnivore's Dilemma signed by Michael Pollan. (See picture below. In case you cannot read his writing, he wrote: "For Ali, Vote With Your Fork.") Click here to see more photos from Slow Food Nation including a blurry picture of Pollan from the event described above. What can I say, my hands were shaking.

Now, about this corn burger. I recently finished an intro graphic design course at UCLA Extension. One of our projects was to create a teaser movie poster. Teasers are the posters released months before a film hits the studios — the ones that include little written information about the film (no credits, no photos from the screening, etc.). Often even the title is absent from the poster. I chose King Corn, a documentary released in 2007 about corn production in this country. Corn, the two college friends and movie protagonists learned, is ubiquitous in our food supply, from the burgers and breads we eat to the beer and soda we drink — an idea Michael Pollan explored in depth in the Omnivore's Dilemma. (The corn burger is something I imagine starring in a Michael Pollan nightmare.) King Corn is very interesting and can be rented at Blockbuster or purchased from the movie's Web site.

The other element of my poster, modeled after Fat Burger's logo, is pictured below:

I love these vintage posters lining the walls of the bread stalls at Slow Food Nation's Taste Pavillion:

I left Slow Food Nation feeling inspired yet overwhelmed by the many issues facing this country (and the world) regarding food production.

Perhaps what I thought was most interesting, however, was hearing the many speakers collectively criticize both Obama and McCain for failing to discuss reformation of our food system. The panelists noted that if politicians could pass laws that promote sustainable agriculture, they would solve (or begin to solve) many other problems along the way.

But the "slow food" or "local food" movement has always been driven by the people. Wendell Berry described the ongoing revolutions as a "leaderless movement." Below I have summarized what I learned from the various Food For Thought sessions I attended.

Slow Food: ‘A Leaderless Movement’

When asked how our presidential candidates stand on the subject of food and agriculture, author Michael Pollan responded frankly: “They don’t stand.”

Among the many challenges the next president of the United States faces, three remain at the forefront: limiting our country’s dependence on foreign oil, reducing the high costs of health care, and fighting global warming. Senators Barack Obama and John McCain have proposed various solutions to these problems ranging from off-shore drilling to universal health coverage to cap-and-trade policies. Absent from any discussion thus far, however, has been a plan to reform our food system.

But food, noted Pollan at the Slow Food Nation event in San Francisco over Labor Day weekend, is the common link among all of these subjects. If we want to become energy independent, if we want to reduce health care costs, if we want to reverse climate change, we must reform our food system. Today it takes 10 calories of fossil-fuel energy to produce one calorie of food energy; today an abundance of cheap, nutrient-deficient food has caused a national obesity epidemic; today 25 to 30 percent of global warming is caused by industrial agriculture. Food production, energy, health and the environment are indisputably connected.

The many activists, including authors, chefs and farmers, speaking at Slow Food Nation criticized Obama and McCain equally for failing to recognize the far-reaching effects of our food system. Pollan acknowledged that elected officials have always had a political interest in keeping food cheap.

Ironically, cheap food — created largely by a system of subsidy payments to corn and soybean farmers, a dated policy the new farm bill continues to allow — is the chief cause of our dependence on foreign oil, elevated healthcare costs and increasing global warming, the very problems our politicians aim to solve.

If keeping food cheap is an axiom politicians continue to heed, then the push for sustainable agriculture, it seems, will continue to be, as described by Wendell Berry, “a leaderless movement.” Berry, a farmer and author, has been a principal thinker influencing the Slow Food movement in this country.

But if Slow Food International is any example, in spite of the absence of political leadership, agricultural reformation has gathered momentum. What began in 1986 as a demonstration in Rome to protest the building of a McDonalds near the steps of the Piazza di Spagna has grown into a worldwide movement with over 85,000 members in 132 countries. Slow Food Nation drew over 60,000 supporters to San Francisco over Labor Day weekend. More and more Americans are shopping at farmers’ markets, participating in CSAs (community supported agriculture) and advocating fair trade and sustainable farming practices. A revolution is taking place thanks to the many people “voting with their forks,” as Michael Pollan says.

While Wendell Berry confessed to having given up on the political system in 1990, today he has faith in a “growing cooperative spirit” and believes that “if the right thing has a loud enough voice, [politicians] will do the right thing because they have to.”

Alice Waters, who dreams of installing a victory garden on the White House front lawn, said, “We need to feed the politicians.” Waters recounted filling the lunch boxes of Obama’s campaign staff with the juiciest peaches and plums, food she claims “awakens the senses.” If political leaders could only taste this local, organically grown food, believes Waters, perhaps change will happen more quickly.

Time will tell if a political leader will find the gumption to make agricultural policy the forefront of a national discussion. But until a Slow Food chapter exists in central Iowa, the responsibility for driving an agricultural revolution will remain with the people. As author and activist Dr. Vandana Shiva said during the final panel discussion at Slow Food Nation, “Every one of us has to be the Rosa Parks of food.”

Farmers' Market Quesadillas

2008-09-11T20:59:00.000-07:00

I found corn masa! Real corn masa. Like freshly made every day corn masa. El Toro Rojo (in my town, San Clemente) receives a delivery of this tortilla base every day precisely because real corn masa perishes that quickly.

Tonight, I made quesadillas following a method prescribed in Rick Bayless’ Mexico One Plate at a Time cookbook. In this method, the freshly pressed, uncooked tortillas are placed on a hot griddle. The filling gets placed atop the side facing up (the uncooked side), and the tortilla is folded over and pressed to create the traditional half-moon shape. The tortilla gets flipped back and forth every minute or so and cooks in less than five minutes. I worried about the uncooked side tasting, well, uncooked, but it doesn’t — it becomes wonderfully crispy and golden on the outside while the cheese melts and the filling all melds together.

Now, if you can’t find fresh corn masa, don’t fret. This vegetable sauté will taste delectable in any tortilla. Just use whatever variety of flour or corn tortillas you prefer. In fact, while I am thrilled with the results of the fresh corn masa tortilla, this recipe is all about the filling: quickly sautéed farmers’ market veggies mixed with chopped fresh basil and topped with grated cheddar cheese. I used corn, zucchini, poblano peppers, onion and cherry tomatoes, but use whatever vegetables you find. I am loving the taste of corn with basil right now. Such a good combination.

Once the vegetables are all chopped, this sauté takes five minutes to complete. Use high heat and cook the peppers and onions first. Add the corn with the zucchini once the onion bits look a little brown. Cook for another minute or so, and add the chopped cherry tomatoes and basil at the end with the pan off the heat.

So, I made this filling for quesadillas, but this quick sauté could be served over rice or mixed with orecchiette pasta (the perfect shape for vegetables this size) or served with polenta or whatever. I have a feeling a poached or fried egg atop this vegetable medley would only enhance its deliciousness. Try it! It is so yummy.

Farmers’ Market Quesadillas
Serves Two

1 onion, diced
1 poblano pepper, diced
1 ear corn, kernels scraped from cob
1 zucchini, diced
1 cup cherry tomatoes, quartered
basil to taste, chopped

olive oil
kosher salt
Tabasco, optional

Tortillas, corn or flour
Cheddar cheese, grated
Salsa, sour cream and lime for serving, optional

1. Over high heat, sauté the onion and pepper together until the onion looks slightly browned. Add the zucchini and corn and cook for one to two minutes. Season the whole mixture with salt to taste. Turn off the heat and add the cherry tomatoes and basil. Taste, adjust seasoning as necessary. Add a splash of Tabasco if desired.

2. Proceed with your preferred recipe for quesadillas. (See below if using fresh corn masa.) Here is a good method: Brush a cast iron or non-stick pan with a thin coating of olive oil. Place a flour tortilla in the pan and brush it lightly with olive oil. When the underside starts to get little light brown bubbles, turn the tortilla over and top it with the cheese and vegetable mixture. Fold the tortilla in half so it looks like a half moon. Place a smaller cast iron pan on top to weight down the tortilla. When one side is brown, flip over the tortilla and brown the other side. Make sure that the tortilla cooks until it almost could crack like a bisquit. You'll have to play with the heat — it should be hot enough to brown, but not to burn.

3. Rick Bayless' method for using freshly made masa tortillas: (Note: see below for instructions on how to make the tortillas themselves.) Heat a well-seasoned or nonstick skillet over medium heat. Turn the oven on to its lowest setting. One by one, make the quesadillas. Lightly brush one side of each tortilla with oil, then lay it oiled side down on the hot griddle. Spread with a thin layer of cheese, leaving a 1/4-inch border all around. Spoon the vegetable filling into the center of the cheese-covered tortilla. When the cheese begins to melt, but before the tortilla begins to crisp, fold the tortilla in half to create a half moon. Cook, flipping the tortilla every minute or so, until the cheese is completely melted and the tortilla crisps, about five minutes. (I only flipped once, and my quesadilla probably cooked for about 3 minutes.) As each quesadilla is done, transfer it to a baking sheet and keep warm in the oven.

4. Serve with salsa, sour cream and lime wedges.

Making tortillas. Rick Bayless' method:

1. Knead the masa with just enough water to make it soft (like cookie dough) but not sticky. The softer the dough, the more tender the tortillas — but don't make it so soft it sticks to your hands. (Note: I purchased my fresh masa at El Toro Rojo, and I didn't need to add any water to the mixture.)

2. Open the tortilla press and lay one square of plastic wrap on the bottom plate. Scoop out a walnut-sized piece of dough, roll it into a ball and center it on the plastic. Cover with a second sheet of plastic wrap. Close the press and use the handle to flatten the ball into a 5- to 6-inch disk. Turn the plastic-covered disk of masa 180 degrees and press gently to even the thickness.

3. Open the press and peel off plastic. Proceed with quesadilla recipe (above) or line a sheet pan with parchment paper and top with your pressed tortillas. Cover with plastic wrap until ready to cook.

One Peach, One Tart, A Favorite Recipe, Simplified

2008-09-05T22:19:00.001-07:00

As the title suggests, the tart featured in this post is based on a longtime favorite recipe printed in Fine Cooking several years ago. The original recipe calls for making a frangipane — an almond-based filling — to spread in a thin layer across the dough. The fruit lies over this creamy base and the combination of dough, frangipane and fruit in every bite is absolutely delicious. The addition of frangipane to any free-form tart — from plums, peaches and apricots (really all stone fruit) in the summer to pears and apples in the fall — seriously raises the bar of the classic fruit tart, adding a most subtle flavor, but a dimension that pure fruit tarts lack.

That said, in the tart pictured above, the frangipane has been omitted, and had I never known frangipane existed, I wouldn't have missed it. A dessert of warm peaches in a flaky, buttery crust topped with a little scoop of vanilla ice cream alone is pretty damn good. And whereas frangipane requires almond paste, rum and room-temperature butter, this simplified fruit tart can be made with pantry items in no time.

All I'm saying is this: If you have the time and the ingredients, make the frangipane. You won't be disappointed. If you don't have the time or the ingredients, however, make this tart anyway. You will still produce an elegant and delectable dessert. You won't be disappointed.

This recipe yields two small tarts each of which will serve three or four people. I used only one peach in the tart I made and froze the remaining portion of dough. I love love love this dough recipe. I'm not quite sure how it differs from a traditional pie dough but it without fail produces a perfect crust.

It should be noted that while this tart probably tastes best when warm, I am discovering that it complements morning coffee very nicely as well.

Galette Dough
Yield=Two mini tarts (each tart yields 3-4 small servings; double recipe to yield two 9-inch tarts)

1¼ cups all-purpose flour
1 T. sugar
¼ tsp. table salt
8 T. unsalted butter
¼ C. + 1 T. ice water

Whisk flour, sugar and salt together. Cut butter into flour and using the back of a fork or a pastry cutter, incorporate butter into flour mixture until butter is in small pieces. Add ice water and continue to stir with fork until mixture comes together to form a mass. Add more ice water if necessary, one tablespoon at a time. Gently form mass into a ball and divide into two equal pieces. Shape each piece into a ball, wrap in plastic wrap and chill for at least 30 minutes and as long as overnight. (Dough can be frozen, too.)

Frangipane
Note: I did not use a frangipane in the above pictured tart. This frangipane makes for a truly special tart. If you're pressed for time, however, or don't feel like making frangipane, the peaches and the galette dough alone will make a wonderful dessert.

¼ C. almond paste
2 T.. sugar
2 T. butter at room temperature
2 tsp. rum
1 small egg

In the bowl of a stand mixer or food processor, combine almond paste, sugar and butter. Beat until combined, then add rum and egg and beat until smooth, or until only small lumps remain. Set aside.

To Assemble:

1 peach, sliced (If making two tarts, use two peaches.)
pinch sugar, pinch salt
1 T. butter, melted
1 tsp. sugar
parchment paper
vanilla ice cream

1. Toss peach slices with the pinches of sugar and salt. Set aside. On a lightly floured work surface, roll one disk out approximately into a 9-inch circle, using flour as needed to prevent sticking. Line a rimless cookie sheet (or upside-down jelly roll pan) with parchment paper. Transfer dough to parchment paper. Spoon 1-2 tablespoons of the frangipane (if using) into the center of the tart and spread toward the edges, leaving a 2-inch border all the way around. Arrange the fruit in concentric circles over the frangipane.

2. Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Finish the tart by folding the exposed border over the tart onto itself, crimping to make a folded-over border. Chill tart in the refrigerator for 10-15 minutes. Brush dough with butter and sprinkle sugar over entire tart. Place in the oven for 30-35 minutes or until crust is golden. Let cool for five minutes on tray then slide parchment paper and tart onto a cooling rack. Let cool another 20 minutes before slicing.

Serve with vanilla ice cream.

Roasted Tomato Soup Thickened with Bread (Pappa Al Pomodoro)

2008-08-24T07:36:00.000-07:00

At an adorable café in San Clemente, a bowl of tomato-and-bread soup sent four ladies knocking on the kitchen’s door. Through an open window, the women praised the chef for his creation, swooning over the soup's deep, rich flavors, begging him to disclose any secrets. Flattered and unafraid to share, the chef rattled off the ingredients: tomatoes, basil, onions, bread, salt.

The women stared in disbelief. They wanted something more. They wanted to hear that the soup was drizzled with white truffle oil; that it was lightened with a goats'-milk foam; that it was finished with an 80-year Xeres vinegar. Alas, simplicity, it seems, triumphs again.

Several of you out there recommended I roast or dry my small tomato harvest and store the tomatoes indefinitely in my freezer or fridge to be used as I please. I did in fact follow these instructions, but upon hearing this exchange between the chef and patrons at Cafe Mimosa last week, I couldn't resist pureeing my tomatoes into a soup. Roasting, I discovered, sweetens and intensifies the tomato flavor, making the need for any exotic, unexpected flavorings unnecessary. Chef Tim Nolan surely wasn't holding anything back. This rustic soup originates in Tuscany and, like so many traditional recipes — panzanella salad, bread pudding, bruschetta, French toast — was created as a way to prevent day-old bread from going to waste. Simplicity (as well as bread) is the common denominator of all of these recipes.

Whether the soup at Cafe Mimosa is vegetarian or not, I do not know, but my vegetables certainly needed some sort of a stock to bring the mixture to soup consistency. I used chicken stock and coarsely pureed the mixture with a large bunch of basil and a few dried out pieces of a French boule. Many of the recipes I found on the web for pappa al pomoodoro called for a fair amount of olive oil, but I didn't think this soup needed any more than what was used while roasting them. Adjust this recipe, however, according to your liking — this batch of soup has been made completely to taste. If you start with a base of slow roasted tomatoes, onions, garlic and shallots, I assure you your soup will be a success. Served with a few shavings of Parmigiano Reggiano and a piece of crusty bread, pappa al pomodoro makes a wonderful late summer meal.

Slow roasted tomatoes, onions, shallots and garlic form the base of this Tuscan tomato soup.

Roasted Tomato Soup Thickened with Bread
Inspired By Café Mimosa’s Tomato Bread Soup
Yield = 1½ to 2 quarts

tomatoes, halved if large, left whole if cherry or grape, enough to fill a sheet tray
1 onion, peeled and chopped into big chunks
1 shallot, peeled and chopped into big chunks
1 head garlic, cloves removed and peeled
a few carrots, peeled and cubed
olive oil
kosher salt
fresh cracked pepper

3-4 slices bread (French or Italian)
about 2 cups chicken stock, preferably homemade or a low-sodium variety
1 bunch fresh basil
crushed red pepper flakes
Shaved Parmigiano Reggiano and crusty bread for serving, optional

Note: This recipe is all done to taste. Adjust as necessary.

1. Roast the vegetables. Preheat the oven to 300ºF. Line a rimmed sheet tray with all of the vegetables. This tray should be filled in a single layer. Use whatever vegetables you have on hand — I threw in the carrots because I had them, but leeks, celery, thyme etc. would all make nice additions. Drizzle olive oil over top. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and roast for about three hours until vegetables are soft and slightly caramelized.

2. Meanwhile, toast the bread. Slice the bread into ½-inch thick pieces. Place on the counter to dry or toast briefly in the toaster. You just want to dry out the bread; you’re not trying to brown it.

3. Puree the soup. When the vegetables are done, place them in a pot with chicken stock. To give you a rough idea, I had about 5 cups of roasted vegetables and used about 2½ cups of chicken stock. Bring to a simmer. Season with a pinch of salt and crushed red pepper flakes if using. Add the bunch of basil. Break two slices of bread into medium-sized cubes and add to the pot. Using an emersion blender or food processor or traditional blender, puree the soup roughly. It should be slightly chunky. Taste and add more salt or bread if necessary. Add more stock until soup reaches desired consistency.

Note: If you leave this soup relatively chunky, it would make a wonderful sauce for pasta.

Buttermilk Panna Cotta: Simplest Dessert Ever

2008-08-23T21:53:00.001-07:00

This dessert takes five minutes to make. Ten minutes tops. And it's a great way to use up leftover buttermilk.

For example, I opened the fridge a few days ago and spotted a carton of buttermilk dated August 13. It smelt a little funky and I noticed a few lumps, but doesn't buttermilk always kind of look/smell this way? I gave the carton a good shake, poured the buttermilk into a clear, glass measuring cup to inspect for anything looking particularly threatening and proceeded with the recipe. Success. I have now eaten panna cotta three nights in a row and have yet to feel a tinge of sickness.

Even if you aren't trying to use up a half-empy carton of buttermilk, this is a great recipe to have on hand for several reasons:

1. It can and should be made the night before serving — perfect for entertaining.
2. It is made in individual servings — perfect for entertaining.
3. It is light and summery.
4. It literally takes no time to whip up.
5. It is delicious.

Also, you don't need fancy ramekins or custard cups. I have them, (and love them, obviously), but for the sake of demonstration, I poured this batch into various-sized glass cups including an old-fashioned mason jar. It looked precious. The panna cotta doesn't even really need to be inverted onto a plate, and if you chose to use glasses, in fact, I wouldn't recommend inverting. Just eat it right out of the glass. Yum.

Note: If you do have a set of ramekins, invert the panna cotta onto plates and serve with fresh fruit or a raspberry coulis, as my grandmother does.

What is panna cotta? Panna cotta, meaning "cooked cream," is an Italian dessert made by simmering milk or cream and sugar together. It is thickened with gelatin and must chill for a few hours to set. According to Wikipedia, panna cotta originates from the Piedmont region of Italy.

Buttermilk Panna Cotta

If you have 1½ cups buttermilk on hand:
1½ tsp. unflavored gelatin
½ cup milk, not skim, but 1% and up
½ cup sugar
1½ cups buttermilk
¼ tsp. vanilla extract

If you have 1 cup buttermilk on hand:
1 tsp. gelatin
6 T. milk
6 T. sugar
1 cup buttermilk
1/8 tsp. vanilla

1. In a small bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over ¼ cup (or 3 tablespoons if using 1 cup of buttermilk) of water. Let stand until softened, about 5 minutes.

2. In a saucepan, heat milk and sugar over medium heat until sugar dissolves and mixture is hot but not boiling, 3-5 minutes.
Remove from heat, stir in gelatin mixture, then buttermilk, and vanilla. Pour into 4 or 6-oz ramekins* and chill until set, 3 hours.

3. To serve, run a knife around edge of ramekin, place a plate on top, flip over and gently shake to turn out onto plate.
Garnish with some fresh berries.

*Note: Pour into any vessel you have. If using tall, narrow glasses, do not worry about inverting. Serve right in the glass. Keeps well in the fridge for at least a week.

Grilled Corn and Cherry Tomato Salsa

2008-08-21T16:00:00.001-07:00

I haven't quite nailed down this whole gardening thing yet. My cherry tomato plant grew so tall that most of its branches, weighed down by the bundles of fruit at the ends, ended up snapping in two. In an effort to alleviate some of the stress on the rest of the plant, I pruned the broken branches and lay them over the railing outside my apartment.

Amazingly, in just a few days, the little green teardrops turned bright red. And now, I have more cherry tomatoes on my hands than I know what to do with. This salsa has helped deplete the supply somewhat, but I'm going to have to get a little more creative if I want to enjoy these sweet treats before they shrivel on the vine and fall to their death in our carport.

I served this tonight over a piece of pan-seared cod. Yum. And, I ended up eating the salsa more as a side dish than a condiment. This salsa almost could be served as a salad itself. Or, tossed with some bulgur or quinoa or any grain really, it could be made into a meal.

I have about a cup of it left which I am going to stir into some scrambled eggs manana. I cannot wait.

Grilled Corn and Cherry Tomato Salsa
Yields enough for two people. Serve with pan-seared fish or chicken

2 ears corn, shucked
2 cups cherry tomatoes
½ red onion
fresh basil
1-2 hot peppers, such as Thai bird chilies, jalapenos or serranos
kosher salt
olive oil
½ a lemon or lime

1. Preheat the grill to high. When ready, grill the corn very briefly on each side, just enough to leave a few kernels charred. Remove corn from grill and let cool briefly. Cut kernels from cob and place in a mixing bowl. (Note: The corn will taste very crunchy still. The grilling is just to add a nice, smoky flavor.)

2. Meanwhile halve the cherry tomatoes through the stem and place in the mixing bowl. Peel and finely dice the onion to yield a scant half-cup. Add to the bowl. Tear basil leaves into the bowl. Finely dice the chilies, seeds and all, and add to the bowl. (Obviously, add according to what heat-scale you prefer.)

3.Season the mixture with a pinch of kosher salt. Drizzle about a tablespoon of olive (maybe more, maybe less) over the mixture. Juice the half lemon or lime over the mixture. Toss gently with a large spoon. Taste, adjust seasoning as necessary, and leave at room temperature until ready to serve.

This salsa is particularly delicious served over a pan-seared filet of fish such as cod, halibut, trout, striped bass, etc.

Broken branches of cherry tomatoes ripening in the sun on my railing.

Trying To Understand The Food Crisis and Artisan Bread In Five Minutes A Day: Corn Bread

2008-08-17T18:08:00.000-07:00

In a May 19th New Yorker article, Bee Wilson wrote: “As of 2006, there were 800 million people on the planet who were hungry, but they were outnumbered by the billion who were overweight. Our current food predicament resembles a scenario largely created by overproduction rather than underproduction. Our ability to produce vastly too many calories for our basic needs has skewed the concept of demand and generated a wildly dysfunctional market.”

This confused me. How could so many people in the world — 100 million people currently are at risk of joining the one billion people on the planet living on $1 a day — be hungry if there is no overall shortage of food? The answer, I learned, is complicated.

China, India, Europe and the United States are all to blame. Trade officials in these nations (and other wealthy nations), of course, design policies that will protect their farmers. What's so bad about that? Well, when governments intervene in markets by imposing import tariffs and subsidies, for example, markets do not operate as they should and false equilibriums are reached. This, in turn, leads to market failures — such as food shortages — and the consequences can be dire: misery, malnutrition, starvation.

I've been trying to understand this food crisis for the past few months now, and I have summarized below what I have learned. Links to all of the articles I have read regarding this matter can be found at the end of the post (before the recipe.)

The issues:

• Usually food crises are localized, but for the first time in 30 years, food protests are erupting in many places at once: 33 countries (including Haiti, Bangladesh, Cameroon, Egypt, the Philippines, El Salvador and Pakistan) are at risk of social upheaval because of the high food prices.

• Human suffering is vast. Food inflation could push 100 million people into poverty, wiping out all the gains the poorest billion have made during almost a decade of economic growth.

• The era of cheap food is over.

What is causing the high food prices?

1. The growing middle-class in China and India: A half-billion consumers in these countries are increasingly emulating rich Western diets. (They are eating more meat.)

2. High oil costs have sent diesel fuel, fertilizers and farm chemical prices sky-high. Industrial agriculture has become so dependent on fossil fuel — for fertilizer, for pesticide, for processing and transportation. Today it takes 10 calories of fossil-fuel energy to produce one calorie of food energy.

3. Western biofuel programs converting cereals into fuel. This year, one-fifth of the American corn crop will be devoted to Ethanol. High corn prices have led farmers to plant more corn and less soy and wheat, leading to the surge in the price for all grains.

4. Arable acreage is continually being cut back due to environmental regulations, water scarcities and urban development.

5. Government interference in markets. In a perfect world: the response to higher prices is higher output; with farming, however, this isn’t the case. For one, it always takes a season to grow more food (unlike a toy factory, which can respond immediately). And second, by imposing export quotas, price controls, consumer subsidies, export restrictions and lower tariffs, governments muffle signals to farmers and further delay their reaction to price signals. In a free market, imbalances get smoothed out naturally.

What is the solution?

First: Get food and help to the famine-ravaged places. In the short-term, humanitarian aid, social protection programs and and open trade policies will alleviate the suffering. To achieve this, the World Food Program (the world's largest distributor of food aid) needs an extra $700 million. Though the importation of American and European surplus harvests could damage domestic markets in poor nations, given the widespread food shortages, this is the short-term solution.

Second: Open up trade. Governments need to liberalize markets not intervene. Victor Davis Hanson writes: "The best thing that the United States could now do is to stop interfering with its own farmers, let markets and need determine what they grow and how they farm — and then by such a principled American example, persuade the rest of the world to do the same."

Long-term solutions:

• Reduce modern agriculture's dependence on oil. Michael Pollan writes that "agriculture is the original solar technology, and sustainable farmers have shown us how we might put our food system back on a foundation of sunlight. For example, when you take cattle off their typical feedlot diet of grain and allow them to eat grass, those hamburgers put less pressure on the prices of both oil and grain."

• Pollan continues: "Most of the world's grain goes to feed animals, not people, and meat is a very inefficient use for that grain — it takes 10 pounds of grain to make one pound of beef. There would be plenty of grain for everyone if we actually ate it as food and didn't use it to make meat. Reducing world meat consumption — or feeding our food animals differently — would leave more grain for the world's hungry.

• The Economist asserts that the way to feed the world is not to bring more land under cultivation, but to increase yields, and science, thus, is crucial. (The Economist: The quickest way to increase your crop is to plant more, but in the short run, there is only a limited amount of fallow land. Food increases thus need to come from higher yields.)

Sources: “The Silent Tsunami” and “The New Face of Hunger,” both printed in the April 19th Economist, “Harvesting Money In a Hungry World” by Victor Davis Hanson printed in the August 1st New York Times; “How To Feed The World” by Michael Pollan printed in the May 19th Newsweek, and “The Last Bite: Is the World’s Food System Collapsing?” by Bee Wilson printed in the May 19th New Yorker.

Oh and P.S.: This bread, like all of the other loaves produced from recipes printed in Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day, is delicious. As the pictures show, this isn't the typical, sweet, cake-like creation most often associated with the word "cornbread."

Broa (Portuguese Corn Bread)
From Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoë François

Yield = four 1-lb. loaves

3 cups lukewarm water
1½ T. granulated yeasts (1½ packets)
1½ T. kosher or other coarse salt
1½ cups stone-ground or standard cornmeal
5 cups (22.5 oz.) unsifted, unbleached, all-purpose white flour, measured with the scoop-and-sweep method

Mixing and Storing the Dough

1. Mix the yeast and salt with the water in a five-quart bowl, or preferably, in a resealable, lidded (not airtight) plastic food container or food-grade bucket. Don’t worry about getting it all to dissolve. (I added the yeast, then the flour and then the salt on top of the flour to avoid killing any of the yeast, but apparently this is unnecessary.)

2. Mix in the cornmeal and flour. Mix with a wooden spoon. If necessary, reach into your mixing vessel with very wet hands and press the mixture together. Don’t knead! It isn’t necessary.

3. Allow to rise: Cover with a lid (not airtight) and allow the mixture to rise at room temperature until it begins to collapse (or at least flattens on the top), approximately two hours. You can use a portion of the dough any time after this period, but fully refrigerated dough is less sticky and is easier to work with. So, the first time you try this method, it’s best to refrigerate the dough overnight before shaping a loaf.

On Baking Day:

4. Sprinkle the surface of your refrigerated dough with flour. Pull up and cut off a 1-pound (grapefruit-size) piece, using a serrated knife. Hold the mass of dough in your hands and add a little more flour as needed so it won’t stick to your hands. Gently stretch the surface of the dough around to the bottom on all four sides, rotating the ball a quarter-turn as you go. The correctly shaped final product will be smooth and cohesive. The entire process should take no more than 30 to 60 seconds.

5. Place the shaped ball on a cornmeal-covered pizza peel. (If you aren’t planning on baking the bread on a pizza stone, just let the dough rest on a cornmeal covered cutting board. Allow the loaf (uncovered) to rest on the peel for about 40 minutes.

6. Twenty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450ºF, with a baking stone placed on the lowest rack. (If you don’t have a stone, don’t worry.) Place an empty broiler tray for holding water on any other shelf that won’t interfere with the rising bread. (This helps to make the crust crispy, but you’re bread will still be delicious if you omit this step.)

7. Dust the top of the loaf liberally with flour, which will allow the slashing knife to pass without sticking. Make several ¼-inch-deep slashes across the bread. (Again, an uncritical step.)

8. With a quick forward jerking motion of the wrist, slide the loaf off the pizza peel and onto the preheated stone. (Alternatively, butter a Pyrex dish or baking pan and place the bread in the pan.) Quickly but carefully pour about one cup of hot tap water into the broiler tray and close the oven door to trap the steam. Bake for about 30 minutes, or until the crust is nicely browned and firm to the touch. Allow to cool completely, preferably on a wire rack.

How to Roast Peppers

2008-08-14T20:00:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday, I found the dollar bin at the Santa Monica farmers' market. Well, a dollar bin of sorts. One of the stands was selling bell peppers, a mix of yellow and red, for $1 a pound. I picked up eight, slightly misshapen, on-the-verge-of-spoiling peppers for $2. That's crazy. I basically had hit the jackpot. I took them home, roasted them, and now I have a stash in my fridge to be used as I wish. For dinner tonight, I made scrambled eggs and ate them with warm bread topped with some slivers of roasted red peppers. Yum.

So it seems, even with crazy-high food prices — the Washington Post recently reported that since March 2007, the price of eggs has jumped 35 percent; a gallon of milk, 23 percent; a loaf of white bread, 16 percent; and a pound of ground chuck, 8 percent — deals can be found. And "green," delicious deals at that.

I know, I know. It's not always so easy. But seriously, a simple way to buffer the sting of these high food prices is to eat more vegetables. These peppers, which taste so sweet when roasted, can be used in so many ways. Meat will not be missed. At least for a few days.

Here are some other tasty locations to place your roasted peppers:
• Sandwiches with cheddar cheese, mustard and red onion.
• Salads.
• Paninis filled with sautéed Swiss chard and Gruyère.
• Pasta or pasta salad.
• On pizza.
• In omelets.
• As a dip when coarsely puréed with feta and parsley.
• Quiche.
• A savory, summer tart.

Roasted Red Peppers
Yield = As many as you like. Estimate about half a pepper per person.

bell peppers, a mix of red, yellow, orange and green is pretty, but red are the sweetest and the best
parchment paper, makes for easy cleaning, but a thin coating of olive oil does the trick, too
olive oil
kosher salt or fleur de sel
fresh cracked pepper
basil or parsley

1. Preheat the broiler to high. Line a rimmed sheet pan with parchment paper.

2. Meanwhile, cut peppers in half lengthwise. Remove seeds and white veins. Place peppers cut-side down on parchment paper. Alternatively, rub a small amount of olive oil on the sheet tray. Place under the broiler for about 15 to 20 minutes, until the skin is blistery and charred. Don't be impatient here: If the skin isn't blistery enough, the peppers will be difficult to peel.

3. Place the peppers in a large bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Let sit for at least 20 minutes and up to 4 or 5 hours (or longer.) When cool enough to handle, remove the skin and discard.

4. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator until ready to use. Note: Bring to room temperature before serving — the cold masks their flavor. For a simple appetizer, slice the peppers into slivers. place on a platter. Taste. Sometimes the peppers are so sweet that they don't need anything. If they need a little seasoning, however, drizzle lightly with olive oil, sprinkle lightly with salt and pepper, and top with fresh herbs. Serve with warm bread.

Wedding Cake, Desconstructed

2008-08-12T18:46:00.001-07:00

Somebody please come save me from myself. I am home alone with this now 2/3-eaten cake. Every morning I tell myself I'm going to throw it into the compost bin*, but somehow I talk myself out of it and find a reason to cut myself another "sliver." This isn't even the kind of dessert I really adore. I much prefer a dense almond torte or chocolate souffle cake or fruit galette. Alas, it's still too good to trash or turn into soil for my garden. (*Yes, I purchased the Back Porch ComposTumbler!)

Why do I have this cake all to myself? Well, on Sunday, Ben and I celebrated with cake and champagne the recent marriage of two friends. Because the bride had to jump on a plane shortly after the festivities and the groom would be out of town for a month, the cake remained with the Staffords. And the reason I say I have this cake all to myself is because Ben never pulls his weight when it comes to sweets. Blast him!

Anyway, this recipe can be multiplied and turned into a real wedding cake. Last November, I made this exact cake with the exception of the frosting, strawberries and assembly for two dear friends. The lemon-buttermilk cake bakes evenly and is both moist and light. The lemon curd adds a nice tang and helps keep the cake moist. And the bright-white, Swiss Buttercream frosting (made in place of a cream cheese frosting) gives the cake a really festive, professional feel. If you don't feel like making a Swiss buttercream, which really is not too difficult, a cream cheese or whipped cream frosting will work just as well.

Emily and James’ & Ibeth and James' Wedding Cake
Adapted From This YouTube Video

Lemon (or Orange) Buttermilk Cake
Yield = 2 9-inch cakes (the amount used in this four-layer cake)

3 cups all-purpose flour
¼ tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking soda
1 T. baking powder
1 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups sugar
4 eggs, whisked lightly
1¼ cups buttermilk
1 T. freshly squeezed lemon juice (or orange juice)
1½ tsp. lemon extract (or vanilla extract)
¼ tsp. lemon zest (or orange zest)

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Sift together the flour, salt, baking soda and baking powder.

2. In an electric mixer, beat the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, about five minutes. Slowly add the whisked eggs to the mixture and beat until combined. Alternate adding the flour mixture and the buttermilk to the mixer. (The recipe says to start and end with flour, but I’m not sure there is any science behind that.) Add the lemon juice, extract and zest, and mix just until combined.

3. If making this layer cake, coat a 9-inch cake pan with nonstick spray (or butter liberally). Pour half of the batter into the pan and bake for about 35 minutes or until an inserted toothpick comes out clean. Cool in pan for 15 minutes before inverting onto a cooling rack. Note: If you have two pans, bake the cakes simultaneously. If you have only one pan, repeat with remaining batter. Alternatively, bake all the batter at once. The cake will take longer to bake and might not bake as evenly, but it certainly can be done.

Filling for the wedding cake:
Lemon (or Orange) Curd

¼ cup sugar
7 egg yolks
½ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (or orange juice)
6 T. unsalted butter, room temperature (butter really must be at room temperature)

1. In a double boiler (or a stainless steel bowl over a pot of simmering water), whisk sugar and yolks together until pale yellow. Whisk in the juice. Stir constantly until mixture starts to thicken, about 8 – 10 minutes. (This is always a little tricky to gauge, but you’ll know it’s ready when it starts to thicken.) Remove bowl from heat and slowly whisk in the butter about a tablespoon at a time. This is sort of tedious, but only add more butter once the previous tablespoon has been fully incorporated. Cover with plastic wrap (place the wrap right up against the curd) and chill until ready to use.

Frosting for wedding cake:
For Emily and James' wedding cake, I made a cream cheese frosting, which I love. For this layer cake, I took a stab at making Swiss Buttercream following the method described on Smitten Kitchen, which worked perfectly. This recipe produces a bright white, more professional looking icing, but either frosting tastes great.

Cream Cheese and Butter Frosting

2 sticks unsalted butter, room temperature
8 oz. cream cheese, room temperature
½ tsp. vanilla extract
confectioners’ sugar to taste

Beat cream cheese and butter together until light and fluffy. Add vanilla. Add confectioners’ sugar to taste. Chill if not using right away or frost cake immediately. (It’s easier to use if you use it right away.)

Smitten Kitchen's Swiss Buttercream

For a 9-inch cake (plus filling, or some to spare):
1 cup sugar
4 large egg whites
26 tablespoons butter, softened (3 sticks plus 2 tablespoons)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Whisk egg whites and sugar together in a big metal bowl over a pot of simmering water. Whisk occasionally until you can’t feel the sugar granules when you rub the mixture between your fingers.

2. Transfer mixture into the mixer and whip until it turns white and about doubles in size. (Here’s a tip: when you transfer to the mixer, make sure you wipe the condensation off the bottom of the bowl so that no water gets into the egg whites. This can keep them from whipping up properly. Ali's note: I whipped the egg whites in the bowl that fits into my stand mixer so that I didn't have to transfer anything.)

3. Add the vanilla. Finally, add the butter a stick at a time and whip, whip, whip.

Note: If you refrigerate the buttercream, leave it at room temperature for at least 10 hours before using. Also, the icing has now held up perfectly (on the cake) for three days. I'm not sure if there is any health risk here, but so far it still tastes good, there is no sign of mold, and I have yet to get sick.

Assembly:

If I were to make this cake again, this is what I would do: I would reserve enough of the Swiss Buttercream to swirl all over the top of the cake. Then, I would whisk together equal parts lemon curd and buttercream to spread in between each layer. I find the buttercream to be a tad rich and think the lemon curd would cut it nicely. So, cut each cake in half with a serrated knife. Spread center with lemon curd-buttercream mix, frost top with buttercream, top with strawnberries and serve.

Tomatoes: Breakfast, Noon & Night

2008-08-10T07:58:00.000-07:00

Oh, to live in New York in August. And late July and early September. To have access to New York bagels during tomato season would just be a dream. I'm not trying to dis Bagel Shack (my local bagel shop, which I love) or anything, but there really isn't anything like a New York bagel.

That said, however, the tomato here is the star. Subpar bagels are just fine when meaty, heirloom tomatoes sit on top of them. This has been my breakfast now for three days in a row: A toasted sesame bagel spread with chive cream cheese (purchased from bagel shack but which could easily be made from scratch) topped with a slice of tomato and sprinkled, of course, with sea salt. Amazing.

Also, I feel I must clarify something I said last post. I do feel that tomatoes, when being prepared for Caprese salad, should be cut into irregular chunks, for reasons explained here. That's not to say, however, that tomatoes should always be cut this way. The heirloom tomato varieties, in particular, look stunning when cut into rounds, which is a practical shape for certain dishes, namely this breakfast.

Also, it should be noted that tomato rounds look completely different depending on which way the knife passes through the fruit. Cut the tomato crosswise (not through the stem) for the prettiest slice. (In other words, if a tomato is sitting just as it would on a board, you would cut the tomato holding the knife parallel to the board. Does that make sense? Or, turn the tomato on its side, then cut down, perpendicular to the board.)

Tomato, Basil, Mozzarella

2008-08-05T21:41:00.003-07:00

It has been done to death. Caprese salad that is. But there's a reason it appears on nearly every restaurant menu come summertime: It's so unbelievably good. I promise I'm not trying to bore you. I just have have a few things to add, in an effort, I hope, to maximize your tomato-eating experience this summer.

1. Tomatoes. I'm sort of stating the obvious here, but likely the tomatoes you pick up at your local farmers' market will be superior to store-bought varieties. This past Sunday at the San Clemente farmers' market, I learned from one of the Carlsbad farmers that the darker tomatoes tend to be sweeter. The man wasn't lying. The tomato pictured in the upper left corner of this photo was the sweetest and tastiest of the bunch. It reminded me of a variety I discovered last summer, back in Philadelphia, called Black Prince, which I loved for the same reasons.

2. Fresh basil. Nothing like it. So fragrant. So sweet.

3. Mozzarella. I hate to be a snob, but buffalo mozzarella is so good, and there's really nothing like the imported Italian varieties. However, as we are all so aware of our food miles these days, we can make smarter choices. I just discovered this Bubulus Bubalis mozzarella, which is made in Gardena (near L.A.) from the milk of water buffalo grazing in Northern California, if I understood the story correctly. Anyway, it is exceptional. And for Philadelphians, Claudio's mozzarella is wonderful. (For all of you in between CA and PA, I wish I could give you more direction. Alas, my knowledge extends only to two places.)

4. Salt. Invest in a small tub of nice salt, like this one pictured below. I use it only on special occasions, like when I'm salting tomatoes or salting avocados or salting butter spread onto bread. So, basically I use it every day. My sister found this little tub in France earlier this summer but any variety of nice sea salt will do. (If you can't resist this precious container, you can buy it from Salt Works.) And don't be afraid to give the tomatoes a real sprinkling — I swear it makes them sweeter not saltier. Really.

5. Olive Oil. With good tomatoes, a drizzling of extra-virgin olive oil is the only dressing needed. I have yet to add a splash of vinegar to my tomato salads this summer. Though a splash certainly wouldn't hurt. And it does make a nice little sauce to soak bread in.

6. Preparation. Try cutting your tomatoes into irregular shapes as opposed to thin slices. They look prettier; they're easier to eat; and the tomatoes taste better, too. Really, they do. Cut the mozzarella the same way. And when you arrange it all on a platter, don't toss it around to much. Just sprinkle the tomatoes and cheese with salt; tear basil leaves over the top; drizzle it with oil; and serve.

Two very hot peppers, cherry tomatoes, one heirloom tomato and a few very tired sprigs of basil picked from my garden. Yay, the tomatoes are turning red!

I am particularly enjoying the dark red heirloom tomatoes. They are sweet and delicious. I found these along with Bubulus Bubalis mozzarella at the Santa Monica farmers' market this past Wednesday.

Melon & Cucumber Salad with Mint Vinaigrette

2008-08-03T16:59:00.001-07:00

So, I sort of have this habit. I tend to add cheese to every salad I make. In large quantities. And often nuts, too. And maybe dried fruit if I don't have any fresh on hand. I tend to turn salads into mini meals themselves, even when, as I often am, just serving them on the side.

For whatever reason, I refrained from adding more than what was prescribed in this recipe: melon, cucumber, lettuce and a mint vinaigrette. And I'm so glad I did. This salad does not need anything else. It is light, refreshing, summery — perfect as is. Thank you Sarah Cain at the Fair Food Farmstand 2,378 miles away in Philadelphia for supplying such a wonderful recipe in the weekly "At the Farmstand" email.

Now, for my friends out there looking for simple recipes, this one is for you. If you can chop up a melon and a cucumber, you can make this dish. The dressing is made right in the jar, which means no whisking and minimal cleaning. I love it, and you will too.

The dressing for this salad is made right in the jar: Equal parts vinegar and oil along with a pinch of sugar and salt, a dab of mustard and tons of mint and parsley combine to make a bright and flavorful dressing.

Cucumber And Melon Salad with Mint Vinaigrette 
Recipe Courtesy of Sarah Cain, Supervisor of the Fair Food Farmstand in Philadelphia
Great with a grilled meat, especially lamb.
Serves 4

½ cup of extra virgin olive oil 
½ cup of best white wine vinegar (I used rice vinegar and loved it.)
½ teaspoon of dijon style mustard 
3 tablespoons of finely minced fresh mint 
1 tablespoon of finely minced parsley 
big pinch of sugar 
big pinch of salt 
2-3 cups mixed honeydew, cantaloupe and watermelon, peeled, seeded and diced 
2 cups mixed greens 
1 English cucumber, diced

1. In a jar with a tight fitting lid, combine the dressing ingredients.  Shake like crazy. Let stand a room temp for 40 minutes to meld the flavors. 

2. Meanwhile, combine the melon, greens and cucumber in a large bowl. (I also added some more mint and parsley (roughly chopped) to the salad.)

3. Shake the dressing vigorously before pouring just enough to moisten the chunks of melon, greens and cucumbers.

4. Serve.

Fish Tacos, Whisk n' Ladle, Mango-Jicama Slaw, MSC-Certified Halibut & Reamers

2008-07-31T23:13:00.000-07:00

I’m feeling sort of overwhelmed by everything I want to fit into this post. Bullet points, I hope, will help my cause.

• So, after a week of feasting, I considered, for the first time ever, making tofu for dinner. As I passed down the freezer aisle of Ralph’s, however, a blue-and-white label caught my eye. Much to my surprise (and delight), that label marked an MSC-certified package of halibut steaks. Unlike many labels today, an MSC (Marine Stewardship Council) label truly means something — it is a guarantee for consumers that the purchase of the product will not contribute to the social and environmental problems of overfishing. It also guarantees that the fishermen receive a fair price for their catch. Holding the world’s most rigorous sustainability standard, the MSC has awarded their coveted eco-label to only 31 fisheries worldwide. (You might recall that American Tuna also bears the MSC label.)

• With my discovery, I took the opportunity to make a dish I have been meaning to make since dining with my cyber friend, Melanie Lytle, of Livin La Vida Local at Whisk n' Ladle in La Jolla. This restaurant strives to use all local ingredients and makes nearly everything in house, including the delectable scone — pistachio-orange, if I recall correctly — with which I began this memorable brunch. (Incidentally, Melanie has just completed a year of eating locally: Read her Long-Winded Summary To a Year of Eating Locally here.)

• Last night, I discovered that the mango-jicama slaw served with the tilapia fish tacos at WnL is surprisingly easy to recreate. Please don’t be frightened or turned off by the idea of julienning or using a mandoline. Dicing the fruit would be just as tasty and effective. In diced form, in fact, the mixture becomes even more versatile — it could be served with tortilla chips or toasted baguette slices for a nice appetizer. Really, this slaw could not be simpler to prepare — you just mix everything together and season with salt and fresh lime juice according to taste. It could be served with chicken, beef, maybe even tofu.

• Last night I also got over the idea that fish should never be frozen. These frozen halibut steaks fried up beautifully, and once wrapped in the tortilla, spread with a dab of sriracha-sour cream and topped with this tasty slaw, the fish becomes a second-string player. Fresh fish, in a way, is better used for simpler preparations, with lemon and herbs, for example, where the flavors of the fish can really shine.

• Lastly, a word about reamers: There is no better tool, I profess, for extracting juice from citrus fruit than a wooden reamer. This one from Sur La Table is fantastic.

Fish Tacos with Mango-Jicama Slaw
Inspired by tacos recently savored at Whisk n' Ladle restaurant in La Jolla. This recipe calls for julienning the jicama and mangoes, but dicing the fruit will work, too. In fact, this mixture, in diced form, would be yummy served with chips.

For the Slaw:
1 jicama, peeled
2 mangoes, not too ripe, peeled
1 small red onion, peeled, diced to yield about ¾ cup
1-2 chili peppers such as Thai bird or jalapeno or Serrano, finely diced
cilantro to taste, washed and chopped
kosher salt
1-2 limes

1. Using a mandoline, julienne the jicama to yield about 2 cups. Place in a large bowl. Julienne the mangoes (to yield about 2 cups as well) and add to the bowl. (Alternatively, just dice the fruit.) Add the onions, peppers and cilantro to the bowl. Season with a big pinch of salt. Juice one lime over top of the mixture. (A reemer is a great tool for this step.) Toss gently, then taste. Adjust with more lime juice or salt. Set aside until ready to serve. Note: Can be made ahead, but not too far ahead — no more than an hour is ideal.

Sriracha-Sour Cream
Whisk n’ Ladle spread some sort of creamy, tomato salsa across their tortillas. It definitely was something more substantial than sriracha sauce, but this combination served the purpose quite nicely.

1. Mix sriracha with sour cream according to taste.

Assemble the tacos:

fish: Any white fish — halibut, tilapia, cod, sea bass, etc. — works really nicely in fish tacos. I found MSC-certified halibut steaks in my Ralph’s freezer section.
small, white flour tortillas

1. Heat the oven to about 450ºF. Wrap as many tortillas you want in foil and place in the oven to keep warm. Make sure the tortillas are hot and pliable before serving.

2. Season the fish lightly with kosher salt. Pan-fry or grill the fish until done.

3. To assemble, spread a small amount of the sriracha-sour cream on the bottom of the taco. Top with the fish. Top with the slaw. Repeat.

When you see this blue-and-white eco-label, you can be confident your purchase has not contributed to overfishing or the harming of marine ecosystems. The Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) is a global, nonprofit organization devoted to promoting the best environmental choice in seafood.

A dab (or a dousing) of sriracha mixed with sour cream adds a nice kick to fish tacos.

So Much Good Food

2008-07-27T10:57:00.000-07:00

Two years ago, while visiting San Francisco for a wedding, Ben and I discovered the Primavera Mexican stand at the Saturday Ferry Building farmers' market. I have not stopped dreaming about the guajillo-chile chilaquiles since. Yesterday, for breakfast, after waiting in line for 30 minutes, Ben and I savored this dish again, washing it all down with a watermelon-lime agua fresca. We didn't eat again until dinner.

Anyway, I assure you this is not a comprehensive showing of everything we've been eating the past few days during our drive from L.A. to San Francisco. Two of the best meals — dinner at Burma Superstar last night with five friends and breakfast at Tartine this morning — in fact, have not been photo-documented at all. I am overwhelmed by all of the good food we are finding in San Francisco, including a home-cooked meal prepared by friends beginning with Cowgirl Creamery cheeses, starring a lentil and grape salad and ending with thinly sliced melon drizzled with freshly grated ginger. (So yummy!) The tea leaf salad (allegedly seasoned with one million spices) at the Burmese restaurant and everything we sampled this morning at Tartine — a frangipane croissant, a morning bun and a slice of ham quiche — also top the list of particularly memorable bites.

Red Snapper tacos and a red snapper sandwich at the Sea Shanty in Cayucos (located just north of San Luis Obispo).

Cocktails and a cheese plate at Nepenthe in Big Sur.

Pizzeria Mozza — So Yum

2008-07-24T20:02:00.000-07:00

Last night at 10:30 p.m., Ben and I finally dined at Pizzeria Mozza, the Nancy Silverton-Mario Batali-Joseph Bastianich pizza joint in Hollywood.

To start, we shared one order of fried squash blossoms — one order of delicately battered, ricotta-filled, piping-hot blossoms. Unbelievably tasty. For pizzas, we ordered the Ipswich clam (clams, oregano, pecorino and Parmigiano) and the Margherita (tomato, mozzarella and basil.) These wood-fired pizzas, I hate to admit, rival Bar's, my absolute favorite spot on earth to eat pizza. (I've never been to Italy.) Two Amy's in northwest Washington D.C. is a close second. Pizzeria Mozza, if I lived closer and if I didn't need to make a reservation a month in advance, would surely be third. I loved everything about this place.

Well, nearly everything. Last year, shortly after Pizzeria Mozza opened, NY Times restaurant critic Frank Bruni gave it rave reviews, lauding in particular the butterscotch budino. The Times even provided the recipe. Ben took one bite and put his spoon down, declaring it cloyingly sweet. I agreed and then polished off the rest. No seriously, this dessert does not deserve the hype it has received. The little rosemary-pine nut short bread cookies provided on the side would have been the perfect finale to this long-anticipated dinner.

S'mores and an Awesome Margarita Recipe

2008-07-22T20:14:00.000-07:00

A recipe for s'mores I believe is unnecessary. This recipe for margaritas, however, I must share with you.

Over the weekend, during a little trip to Half Moon Lake, Wisconsin to visit Ben's family and friends, a classic, summer deluge left eight of us housebound. Not to worry. Within minutes, Tom and Liz Bennett had whipped up this concoction and delivered it in festive glasses to all the guests. With the fridge fully stocked with back-up pitchers, the storm and afternoon passed in no time.

Simple, tasty and lethal, the Bennetts' margarita is a must try:

Bennetts' Margarita
The original recipe calls for one can of each of the listed ingredients, but the Bennetts have tweaked the recipe slightly for taste. The recipe below, I considered perfection, but feel free to adjust according to taste.

3/4 of a 12-oz can limeade (the frozen can of concentrate)
1 beer, such as Corona
tequila
Sprite
salt for the glasses if desired

1. Place the limeade and beer in a pitcher. Discard (or reserve for another use) the remaining limeade. Fill the can halfway with tequila and add to the pitcher. Fill the can with Sprite and add to the pitcher. Stir. Taste. Adjust as needed. Pour into salted, ice-filled glasses.

Artisan Bread Round II, Partially Whole Wheat and Cooked in A Pot

2008-07-18T00:00:00.000-07:00

So, I thought I'd give a brief update on my Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day escapades. This batch is my third, and I experimented with using nearly 50-percent whole-wheat flour. The dough rose just as beautifully as the 100-percent all-purpose flour batches, and held up just the same in the fridge during the week in which it was stored.

And, on a whim, I decided to use the Jim Lahey-Mark Bittman No-Knead Bread method of cooking — in a pre-heated, covered ceramic pot. Success! After 30 minutes in my Emile Henry dutch oven, the bread emerged with a crispy, golden crust. Since I don't have a pizza stone, cooking in a pot is my best bet if I want to achieve the steam-injected-oven effect, which produces that professional-bakery crust. I have to say, however, that the bread tastes just as delicious when baked in a buttered Pyrex bowl — it doesn't have the same crust, but the flavor is just the same, and the method is truly no-fuss.

Also, last time I neglected to include the Artisan Bread book's official blog/Web site, which offers some great tips and additional recipes. Check out this grilled fruit pizza.

For the recipe for this bread, click here. For the baking method, follow the method described in this Mark Bittman NY Times article: The Secret of Great Bread: Let Time Do The Work

A loaf of 50-percent whole-wheat artisan bread in five minutes a day baked in a pot:

View of the 50-percent whole-wheat dough after rising overnight in the fridge.

Fish En Papillote

2008-07-13T23:54:00.000-07:00

I have decided I sound too freaky to speak on camera.

And so, I present to you a silent film: Fish en Papillote:

(The video seems to stall a bit at 1:18. Just help it along by scrolling past that point.)

Yesterday, 2,438 miles away from me, two very good friends resolved to make fish en papillote for their Sunday night dinner. I tried to explain the process to them via a series of emailed pictures, but I have yet to hear if they were any help. I hope this video might assist them in the future.

In any case, en papillote is currently my favorite way to prepare fish. These parchment packages are magical. How so? Let me tell you:

1. When cooked en papillote, a fish fillet retains its heat to the last bite. I love fish, but it's tricky to cook — so easily overcooked — and it cools down quickly. These packages somehow manage to keep the fish fillets hot without drying them out one bit. And by keeping the fish piping hot, the en papillote method helps you eat more slowly, allowing you to savor your dinner, which I appreciate. I tend to eat very quickly. Like its a race or something.

2. Because I like to eat cake for breakfast these days, fish en papillote makes for a very healthy finish to the day. Seriously, not even a splash of olive oil or a dab of butter is used when assembling the packages. These added fats are truly unnecessary because all of the juices from the fish and the vegetables combine to make a nice little sauce. Served with a simple salad and homemade bread, fish en papillote makes a wonderful summer meal.

3. The packets can be prepared ahead of time — perfect for entertaining. I know summer is prime barbecue season, but it's OK to give the grill a rest every now and then. You can still eat your en papillotes outside. (Warning: Because of the lemon juice and the salt, these packets should not be assembled for more than two or three hours ahead of time — I prepared them and stored them in the fridge for two hours when I made them for my parents last weekend.)

4. This recipe is so versatile. Although I've only experimented with sea bass and halibut, I suspect many fish species would take well to this preparation. Please let me know if you find success with any other varieties. Here, I've used Mexican sea bass because I can find it fresh at my Sunday farmers' market.

Fill the packages with whatever you like: squash, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, scallions, herbs, etc.

The package keeps all of the juices inside, creating a steaming hot, tender, flaky package of goodness.

Ta-da! Perfectly cooked fish every time. Seriously, this recipe is foolproof.

Fish en Papillote
Serves 4

4 18x13-inch (approximately) pieces parchment paper
about 16 leaves Swiss chard, washed and dried
4 6-oz fish fillets, I buy the Mexican sea bass from my farmers' market, but any fish will do
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
4 tablespoons chopped shallots
2 tablespoons caper
2 lemons, quartered
½ cup Nicoise or Kalamata olives, pitted
1 cup cherry tomatoes
1 cup sliced zucchini
sliced basil, parsley or tarragon

1. Preheat the oven to 500ºF.

2. Lay one sheet of parchment paper on the counter and fold it in half lengthwise just to make a crease. Open the parchment paper. Place about four leaves of Swiss chard in the center of the parchment paper just below the centerfold. Top with fish fillet. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Top with shallots and capers. Squeeze half a lemon on top and tuck lemon half next to fish. Sprinkle olives and tomatoes around fish.

3. Fold top half of paper over bottom half and begin folding tightly from the center to one of the sides. Go back to the center and fold tightly in the opposite direction. (See video for more assistance.)

4. Repeat with each fish. Place packages on a cookie sheet and cook about 10 minutes. (Estimate about 10 minutes per inch — if the fillets are a little bit thicker than one inch, add 1 or 2 minutes.)

L.A. Times Culinary SOS: Buttercake Bakery's Marble Cake

2008-07-10T09:10:00.000-07:00

I so badly wanted to dislike this cake.

After reading the Ina Garten-inspired ingredient list, looking over the some-what complicated instructions, and spotting the calorie content per serving (so unnecessarily provided at the end of the recipe), I had that feeling I often get when I'm shopping for clothes — that I hope nothing fits so that I don't have to buy anything.

Unfortunately, all of my negative energy did not help produce an inedible, underwhelming, unmemorable cake. Quite the contrary. This cake is incredibly delicious and irresistible. I wake up every morning thinking about it — thus far, the cake has gotten better and better with each passing day.

I've had this LA Times Culinary SOS recipe recipe tacked to my fridge for the past two weeks. I have to admit, I had serious doubts. I am so often disappointed with the recipes that call for a pound of butter, 2 cups of sugar, 4 eggs, etc.— it's the recipes with yogurt and applesauce and olive oil that are so pleasantly surprising — both delicious and light or relatively light at least. Now, I'm sure some of you magicians out there could cut some of the butter or sugar in this recipe without compromising the flavor, but I encourage you to try the recipe once as is. I omitted the chocolate chips, which are unnecessary given that the recipe calls for the making of a cocoa syrup, which imparts a wonderful chocolate flavor.

Buttercake Bakery’s Marble Cake

Total time: 1½ hours
Servings 12 to 16

2½ cups sugar, divided
½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
¼ cup light corn syrup (I used brown rice syrup)
2½ teaspoons vanilla extract, divided
2 2/3 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup (2 sticks) butter (room temperature is ideal)
4 eggs
1 cup milk
1 cup chocolate chips (optional — I did not use them. This cake really doesn’t need them.)
powdered sugar for dusting

1. In a small saucepan, whisk together ½ cup of the sugar, the cocoa powder and syrup with ½ cup hot water. Bring just to a simmer, stirring occasionally. Add ½ teaspoon of vanilla off the heat and set aside.

2. Heat the oven to 350ºF. Butter and lightly flour a 12-cup bundt pan. (I never flour anymore — it always burns for me. I coated the bundt pan with cooking spray.)

3. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and salt and set aside. In the bowl of a stand mixer (or in a large bowl if using a hand mixer), cream the butter with the remaining sugar until light and fluffy. Whisk in the eggs one at a time until thoroughly incorporated, then whisk in the remaining vanilla.

4. Whisk about a third of the flour mixture into the batter, then a third of the milk. Continue whisking in the flour mixture and milk, alternately and a little at a time, until everything is added and the batter is light and smooth.

5. Gently fold in the chocolate chips. (I really think the chocolate chips are unncessary, but that’s your call.) Divide the batter into thirds. Pour a third of the batter into the prepared bundt pan.

6. Whisk the chocolate syrup with another third of batter, then pour this into the bundt pan. Pour the remaining third of batter over this, lightly swirl the batters with a wooden skewer or knife to give a “marble” effect and place the pan in the oven.

7. Bake the cake until a toothpick inserted comes out clean and the cake springs back lightly when touched, about an hour. Cool the cake in the pan on a wire rack. Invert the cooled cake onto a serving platter and dust lightly with powdered sugar.

Good Stock

2008-07-09T06:50:00.000-07:00

I'm sort of embarrassed about posting this video, but after I shot it, I couldn't resist. I sound like such a freak. I'm pretty sure I don't sound like that normally.

Anyway, I happened to be preparing tinga, which I've described before, and thought it might be a good opportunity to talk about stock. I know the thought of making stock from scratch can feel like a lot of work. But making stock really is as simple as throwing chickens in a pot, covering them with water, and letting them simmer for a few hours. Additions such as onions, carrots, celery, bay leaves, peppercorns, etc., of course, enhance the flavor of the stock, but if you don't have them or don't feel like adding them, it doesn't matter. The gelatinous stock shown in the video was prepared with nothing more than chickens and water.

Let me tell you about this dish. I learned how to make it from a woman named Patricia who I worked with at Fork back in Philadelphia. Patricia often prepared tinga — chicken stewed with onions, tomatoes and chipotle in adobo sauce — for the "family meal" and served it with rice or soft tortillas. It's incredibly delicious over crispy tortillas, too, served with a poached egg on top.

This recipe calls for one chicken, but it can be easily doubled. (Tinga freezes well — I have quarts of it ready to be thawed at a moment's notice.) You also can make chicken stock with the carcass: After you pull off all of the meat, put the remaining bones back in the poaching liquid and let the mixture simmer for another couple of hours.

Chicken, pulled from its bones after simmering in water for about an hour.

Cilantro, soaking to remove dirt.

Chicken carcasses in water ready to be simmered.

Fat, scraped from a quart of chicken stock after sitting in the refrigerator overnight.

Stock, fat removed, ready to be frozen.
Mexican Tinga
Serves 8

1 3-4 lb. chicken
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 white onion, sliced
1 small can chipotles
in adobo sauce
1½ cups canned crushed tomatoes
2 cups chicken stock, low-sodium or homemade
kosher salt to taste
1 bunch cilantro

1. Place chicken in a large pot and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat so the water just simmers, and cook for 45 minutes. Turn off heat and transfer chicken to a large bowl to cool. When chicken is completely cool, remove the meat from the skin and bones, and place in a clean bowl. (Place bones and skin in a pot, cover with water, and let simmer for several hours. Strain, and transfer the stock to plastic storage containers. Refrigerate overnight. The following day, scrape off the fat and discard. Freeze stock.)

2. In a medium-sized soup pot add the oil and place over medium heat. Sauté the onion over medium heat until slightly caramelized, about 5 minutes. Add 3 of the chipotles and 1 tablespoon of the sauce from the small can of chipotles (or, if you like spice, add the whole can as I did).

3. Stir for one minute until the onions are nicely coated in sauce, then add the tomatoes and chicken stock. Season with a pinch of salt, then add the chicken meat to the pot, breaking up the big chunks as you add the meat.

4. Bring the liquid to a boil, reduce heat and simmer mixture very gently for 30 minutes. Coarsely chop the cilantro, add to the pot and stir to incorporate. Taste mixture, add more salt if necessary. Can be made a day ahead. To reheat, simmer mixture very slowly adding chicken stock if liquid becomes too thick.

Onions and chipotles cooking before the chicken, stock and tomatoes are added.

Summer Squash Tart & Happy Fourth!

2008-07-03T18:05:00.000-07:00

Hi everyone. Happy Fourth. Just a quick post here. I made this tart, as you may recall, once last summer. This year's version, made with squash entirely from my garden, is far more special.

I must admit, however, this recipe could be improved, namely because it calls for puff pastry. I don't want to diss puff pastry or anything, but i'm just not wild about its taste. In a pinch, its great — it saved me this passed Monday when I needed to whip something up for a potluck. If I had more time, however, I might have experimented with a different base. The thin pizza dough, I don't think would have held up too well for a potluck. A thicker pizza dough might work. Or a savory galette dough. Or the buttery cornmeal crust used in the heirloom tomato tart. I definitely want to try something other than puff pastry because everything else about the tart is great, from the ricotta-parsley spread to the caramelized onions to the blanched squash rounds to the barely melted feta crumbled on top at the last moments of baking.

Also, the pictures here show a tart that has been made with one-third of one sheet of puff pastry. The box I bought came with two units of puff pastry, and I used one and two-thirds for the potluck tart. I had left over ingredients and so made a mini tart, which I ate for breakfast on Tuesday.

Happy Fouth! Oh, and here's a festive dessert for the holiday: Patriotic Ice Cream Sandwiches

First, you must blind bake the tart shell. I have a stash of beans I use over and over again for this purpose.

Then, you whisk together ricotta, parsley, an egg, and salt and pepper, and spread it across the bottom.

Then, you top the cheese spread with a layer of caramelized onions.

Then, you top the onions with blanched squash rounds. You bake it for 15-20 minutes. Brush it with butter. Bake it again. And you sprinkle on the feta and parsley at the very end.
Summer Squash Tart with Ricotta and Feta
Serves 6

1 10” x 13” sheet frozen puff pastry, thawed
parchment paper
pie weights or dried beans wrapped in plastic
1 tablespoon of olive oil
1 small onion, thinly sliced
kosher salt and pepper to taste
2 lbs. mix of zucchini and yellow squash
½ cup fresh ricotta
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 bunch parsley, finely chopped
1 tablespoon butter, melted
¼ cup feta cheese

Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Place pastry on a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet. With a paring knife, gently score (being careful not to go all the way through) the pastry about one inch from the edge on all sides. Prick bottom of pastry all over with a fork, line center area only with parchment paper and fill with pie weights or beans. Bake for 20 minutes or until the edges are golden. Remove pan from oven and place on a cooling rack. Remove weights and parchment paper.

Meanwhile, heat the oil over medium heat and add the onion. Season with salt and pepper and let sauté until slightly caramelized about 6 to 8 minutes. Remove from heat to cool.

Fill a medium saucepan with water and bring to a boil. Cut the squash crosswise into ¼ - inch thick rounds. Add to the pot of boiling water, cook for 30 – 60 seconds, drain and let dry on a paper-towel lined cookie tray.

In a small bowl, whisk together the ricotta, egg and parsley. Season with salt and pepper to taste and spread onto puff pastry. Top with the onions. Arrange squash pieces in overlapping rows until tart is filled. Bake for 15 minutes. Remove from oven, brush with butter and return to the oven for five minutes longer. Remove pan from oven, sprinkle with feta, and let cool for 10 minutes before serving.

Lastly, Ben says Happy Fourth, too!

Garden Update II

2008-06-29T22:12:00.000-07:00

So far, the best part about having a garden has been the smells. Every time I pass by those cinder blocks, I brush my hand over the basil leaves or the tomato vines or the oregano plant, and in just that quick motion, the smells from the leaves get trapped in my palms — it's amazing. In one second I smell as though I've been toiling in the weeds for hours.

I suppose once my garden actually begins producing food consistently, however, eating will become more rewarding than smelling. Thus far, we have eaten a fair amount of zucchini and a ton of Swiss chard. The tomatoes, both the cherry and the heirloom, as you can see, have finally started growing. So have the hot peppers. Soon, just as we had hoped, Ben and I will be able whip up pico de gallo at a moment's notice. Except that we are currently out of cilantro. Our two plants, unfortunately, took a terrible turn.

Also, until I see the tomatoes turn red, I will not be completely excited. Two summers ago, back in Philadelphia, our two tomato plants produced hundreds of tomatoes but they never turned red. I've never prepared so many fried green tomatoes in my life. Which are delicious, but not what I want to eat every night for dinner, you know?

To see the complete transformation, click here: Cinder-Block Garden How-To, and here: Garden Update.

Hot Pepper Plant

Summer Squash

Zucchini

Swiss chard, grown from seed.

Cherry Tomatoes

Bowl of Goodies

View from above — quite a transformation from April 24.

Weekend Baking II: Open-Face Plum Cake

2008-06-26T13:55:00.000-07:00

I'm really liking my Sunday morning routine. I get up a little before Ben, find something to bake, and whip it up, or at least have it in the oven, before Ben wakes up. This tradition is now in its fourth week running, and this Sunday I'm planning on making a recipe for a marbled coffee cake printed in the culinary SOS column of the LA Times food section two weeks ago. The recipe is based on Buttercake Bakery's moist butter bundt cake. I can hardly wait to try it. Maybe I'll use that cathedral bundt pan I have failed to use for three years now.

Anyway, about this plum cake. This recipe appeared in a Martha Stewart Living issue last summer, and I have had it filed in the back of my mind ever since. Last Saturday morning, when Ben and I found ourselves in San Diego at the City Heights farmers' market, I found the perfect reason to make this cake: baskets of plums — filled with at least 20 or so — selling for $4. We picked up some peaches, avocados and two red snapper fillets as well before heading home. The plums — sweet and juicy — however, turned out to be the prized purchase. I used ten in this cake, but plenty remained for Ben and me to snack on all week. I ate the last one this morning.

Bette Aaronson, the woman to whom this recipe is credited, has been making this recipe for more than 30 years. I can understand why. It takes only minutes to prepare; it's delectable; it's elegant; and it's versatile: Apricots, nectarines and peaches, it has been noted, can be used in place of the plums. I'm guessing then that pluots, plumcots and apriums would also make acceptable substitutes. I can't believe Martha didn't make that clear. Also, I have halved the recipe — I thought a 9-inch cake for each Ben and me seemed a little excessive — but the original recipe, if you care to see, can be found online: Open-Face Plum Cake.

Open-Face Plum Cake
Adapted from a recipe printed in a summer 2007 Martha Stewart Living
For the recipe doubled, which was how it was printed, visit the Martha Stewart Living Web Site.

Yield = 1 9-inch cake, serves 10

¾ cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
3/8 cup sugar plus 1 tablespoon
¼ cup whole milk
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 small egg or ½ a large egg
6-10 plums depending on the size, halved and pitted
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 tablespoon cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces, plus more for the pans

Confectioners’ sugar for sprinkling

1. Preheat the oven to 400ºF. Butter a nine-inch round cake pan. Whisk together flour, baking powder and salt. In a separate bowl, combine the 3/8 cup sugar, milk, oil and egg. Fold into the flour mixture.

2. Pour batter into pan. Arrange plums, cut side up over batter.

3. Combine cinnamon and remaining sugar and sprinkle over the plums. Dot with butter. Bake until tops are dark golden, plums are soft and a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean, 30 to 35 minutes. Let cool.

4. Sprinkle with powdered sugar if desired.

Artisan Bread In Five Minutes A Day, Seriously

2008-06-22T11:37:00.000-07:00

Last week, NPR aired a brief program about rising food prices and how people are changing their behavior as a result. Listeners called in sharing their money-saving secrets: Some people had begun fishing and hunting, others had begun walking or riding their bikes to market, and others had begun learning to make dishes from scratch. One man resolved to learn how to bake bread.

I thought this last idea sounded a little odd. With bread often being one of the least expensive items at the market, surely, I thought, their are better ways to save money.

I decided to investigate. Over the weekend, I made a visit to Henry's Market (to purchase goat's milk for a rosemary-gelato round two attempt) where I recorded some prices. A one-pound loaf of La Brea bread (the gourmet bread created by Nancy Silverton sold at grocery stores nationwide) costs on average $5.35. (To give you a range, the least expensive La Brea Country White Sourdough loaf cost $3.99 a pound and the most expensive Olive loaf cost $6.99 for 14.5 ounces.) Now, La Brea bread is one of the more expensive varieties of bakery-style bread found at grocery stores, but it's also one of the best, and I've chosen to use it as the measure in this experiment for that reason.

Now, on to Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. I've been meaning to open this book since receiving it at Christmas from my father-in-law, who had read about it in this November 2007 NYTimes article: "Soon The Bread Will Be Making Itself". Seriously, after I made the initial batch of starter, the bread took no more than five minutes of active time to prepare. (Plan on a 40 minute rise plus a 30 minute bake). And the result? Five stars. Ben and I ate almost an entire one-pound loaf in one sitting.

Preparing the loaves is so simple that I made bread on both Saturday and Sunday nights of this weekend, and I still have enough starter to prepare two more loaves this week. The starter keeps for at least two weeks in the refrigerator. This method, created by Jeff Hertzberg, a physician from Minneapolis, entails no kneading and can be prepared by the most novice of bread makers. If you have any inkling to learn to make bread or if you are a pro and desire a simpler method, buy this book: Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day: The Discovery That Revolutionizes Home Baking.

So, what does one of these loaves cost to prepare? Using the price of flour given by the American Farm Bureau — a 5-lb. bag of flour costs on average $2.39 — and prices for yeast and salt listed at Henry's Market — a 3-lb. pound box of kosher salt costs $3.49 and a three-pack of yeast costs $2.39 — a one-pound loaf of homemade artisan bread costs about 60 cents to prepare from scratch. (Flour costs about 3 cents per ounce; yeast, 35 cents per teaspoon; and salt, 1 cent per teaspoon.) Using Henry's Market prices, too, this estimate of 60 cents is likely on the high side.

The average price of a loaf of La Brea bread is almost nine times more expensive. Even the cheapest loaf of bakery-style bread, priced at $1.29 a pound, costs over twice as much as a loaf of homemade bread. Upon closer analysis it seems the man who called into the radio program actually might be on to something.

Even if saving money is not your goal, however, give this recipe a stab purely to experience how truly simple bread making at home can be. I'm dying to try other recipes in this book such as roasted red pepper fougasse, Italian semolina, and sun-dried tomato parmesan but for now, I'm extremely happy with the results of this master boule: It's perfectly salty, moist and airy and delectable all around.

We ate three-quarters of this loaf in one sitting. It's so yummy!

The Master Recipe: Boule
Adapted From Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day by Jeff Hertzberg and Zoë François
Yield = Four 1-pound loaves. Recipe can be doubled or halved

3 cups lukewarm water
1½ T. granulated yeasts (1½ packets)
1½ T. kosher or other coarse salt
6½ cups (29.25 oz.) unsifted, unbleached, all-purpose white flour, measured with the scoop-and-sweep method

Mixing and Storing the Dough

1. Warm the water slightly: It should feel just a little warmer than body temperature, about 100ºF.

2. Add yeast and salt to the water in a five-quart bowl, or preferably, in a resealable, lidded (not airtight) plastic food container or food-grade bucket. Don’t worry about getting it all to dissolve. (I added the yeast, then the flour and then the salt on top of the flour to avoid killing any of the yeast, but apparently this is unnecessary.)

3. Mix in the flour: Add all of the flour at once, measuring it with dry-ingredient measuring cups, by gently scooping the flour, then sweeping the top level with a knife or spatula; don’t press down into the flour as you scoop or you’ll throw off the measurement by compressing. Mix with a wooden spoon. If necessary, reach into your mixing vessel with very wet hands and press the mixture together. Don’t knead! It isn’t necessary. You’re finished when everything is uniformly moist, without dry patches. Dough should be wet and loose enough to conform to the shape of the container.

4. Allow to rise: Cover with a lid (not airtight) that fits well to the container you’re using. Allow the mixture to rise at room temperature until it begins to collapse (or at least flattens on the top), approximately two hours. You can use a portion of the dough any time after this period, but fully refrigerated dough is less sticky and is easier to work with. So, the first time you try this method, it’s best to refrigerate the dough overnight before shaping a loaf.

On Baking Day:

5. Sprinkle the surface of your refrigerated dough with flour. Pull up and cut off a 1-pound (grapefruit-size), using a serrated knife. Hold the mass of dough in your hands and add a little more flour as needed so it won’t stick to your hands. Gently stretch the surface of the dough around to the bottom on all four sides, rotating the ball a quarter-turn as you go. The correctly shaped final product will be smooth and cohesive. The entire process should take no more than 30 to 60 seconds.

6. Place the shaped ball on a cornmeal-covered pizza peel. (If you aren’t planning on baking the bread on a pizza stone, just let the dough rest on a cornmeal-covered cutting board. Allow the loaf (uncovered) to rest on the peel for about 40 minutes.

7. Twenty minutes before baking, preheat the oven to 450ºF, with a baking stone placed on the lowest rack. (If you don’t have a stone, don’t worry.) Place an empty broiler tray for holding water on any other shelf that won’t interfere with the rising bread. (This helps to make the crust crispy, but your bread will still be delicious if you omit this step.)

8. Dust the top of the loaf liberally with flour, which will allow the slashing knife to pass without sticking. Make several ¼-inch-deep slashes across the bread. (Again, if you omit this step, your bread will taste the same.)

9. With a quick forward jerking motion of the wrist, slide the loaf off the pizza peel and onto the preheated stone. (Alternatively, butter a Pyrex dish or baking pan and place the bread in the pan.) Quickly but carefully pour about one cup of hot tap water into the broiler tray and close the oven door to trap the steam. Bake for about 30 minutes, or until the crust is nicely browned and firm to the touch. Allow to cool completely, preferably on a wire rack.

If you bake frequently, purchase yeast in bulk bags and store in your refrigerator or freezer in an airtight container. You'll save a ton of money:

Here are two shots of an unslashed loaf baked in a buttered one-quart Pyrex dish. The difference in crust texture, in my opinion, is indetectable. If you don't have a pizza stone and don't feel like going through the trouble of a steam tray, this method, outlined in the recipe, works just fine.

Selling Lentil Soup In The Summer and Helping Iowan Farmers

2008-06-20T07:18:00.000-07:00

I know this isn't the most summery of soups. Even us Southern Californians are experiencing a bit of a heat wave. So, why would anyone make lentil soup in the summer? It's sort of a hard sell, I'll admit, but I'm going to give it a go.

The 12oz. bag of lentils I purchased cost $3.23. I used about 9 oz. (1½ C.) or $2.42 worth of lentils in this recipe. (As far as lentils go, $3.23 for 12oz. is rather steep. You'll likely pay much less.) Now, I don't have all of my receipts to give an accurate estimate of what this soup costs to prepare, but the remaining ingredients, a mixture of pantry items (vinegar, bay leaf, olive oil, tomato sauce and salt) and vegetables (carrots, celery, onions and garlic) cost next to nothing, even given the crazy-high food prices we are currently facing at the market.

This soup is one of the most economical dishes you could ever prepare. It yields three quarts or eight generous servings. Even if the cost of ingredients totaled $10, which is very unlikely, the cost per serving is only $1.25. Serve it with a loaf of bread and you have a complete meal. Lentil soup and bread for dinner might seem a little Spartan, but the addition of a salad with this meal in a way would be superfluous — this soup is filled with vegetables for one, and lentils themselves are nutritional powerhouses: These little legumes are high in fiber, protein, vitamins and minerals and are an excellent source of complex carbohydrates. Also, according to the Web site, The World's Healthiest Foods, one cup of cooked lentils contains just 230 calories.

Have I sold anyone?

I should note that this soup takes little time to prepare — you basically throw all of the ingredients in a pot and let it simmer for an hour — and that it is delicious. This is one of my mother's favorite recipes, passed down, I believe, from her mother, and maybe even from her mother's mother. Am I making this up, mom?

Lastly, the publisher of Edible San Diego, a wonderful magazine "celebrating local food, from coast to crest, season by season" recently informed me about Farm Aid's Family Disaster Fund. Severe flooding in Iowa and Wisconsin is threatening the lives of family farmers and Farm Aid is providing serious help to the region. Click here to read more about Farm Aid or to help the farmers in these states.

A bowl of French green lentils. I have yet to find a source of local lentils, but I can't say I have looked terribly hard. In Philadelphia, one of the vendors at the Sunday Headhouse market sold lentils and they were delicious. I purchased these at a shop in Philadelphia nearly a year ago and they traveled with me across country. Unless you have a local source for lentils, I highly recommend this variety:

Simple Lentil Soup
Yield=3 quarts or 8 generous servings

1½ C. French green lentils
1 8oz. can of tomato sauce, such as Pomi brand
2 large onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 bay leaf
½ C. red wine vinegar
½ C. extra-virgin olive oil
1 tsp. kosher salt
½ tsp. fresh thyme leaves, chopped
3 carrots, peeled and diced
3 celery stalks, peeled and diced
crushed red pepper flakes to taste

Throw all ingredients together in a pot. Add 1½ qts. plus one cup of water (seven cups total). Simmer for one hour uncovered. Stir and serve with crusty bread. Tastes even better on day two. Keeps for over a week in the refrigerator. Freezes well, too.

Favorite Summer Salad: Shaved Zucchini & Pecorino

2008-06-15T22:02:00.000-07:00

There's something about the combination of raw (or briefly blanched) and young (or thinly shaved) vegetables with Pecorino Romano cheese that I find irresistible. Which vegetables meet this criteria? I can name only a few — asparagus (shaved), fennel (shaved), fava beans (briefly blanched) and summer squash (julienned on a mandoline) — but many more exist. When fresh, these vegetables need little more than salt, pepper, olive oil and lemon juice — no cooking is necessary (with the exception, of course, of the fava beans).

After discovering this zucchini salad last summer, I prepared it often, and on more than one occasion, made myself sick to my stomach. I think raw zucchini might be a little harsh on the stomach? Don't let that deter you, however. Just a little warning.

Now, why Pecorino over Parmigiano? Parmigiano Reggiano would be a fine substitute, but there's something about Pecorino that I'm really liking these days — I think it's its saltiness. Cut it the same way as in the fava bean and pecorino salad: Stick the tip of a big chef's knife right into the block and twist until nice chards break from the block.

Zucchini and Pecorino Salad
Serves 2 as a side dish

1 zucchini, about 8-inches long
Pecorino Romano cheese, to taste
kosher salt
freshly ground pepper
extra virgin olive oil
1 lemon, halved

1. Shave the zucchini on a mandoline into thin spaghetti-like strips. Place in a bowl. Stick the tip of a big chef's knife into a wedge of Pecorino and twist until nice chards break from the block. Add to the bowl. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Drizzle olive oil over the mixture. Squeeze with lemon. Gently toss and serve.

Squash Blossom Obsession

2008-06-12T22:39:00.000-07:00

A friend recently reminded me of my several-months-long fixation with quince. I couldn't experiment enough with the exotic fruit. I bought cases and cases and peeled and poached, making jams and pastes and tarts and cakes. And then, I went green and discovered my beloved quince had traveled all the way from Chili. Alas.

Well, I've moved on to squash blossoms. Ever since I learned how to stuff them, batter them and fry them, I've looked forward to the summer growing season, which would bring these delicate flowers to market. In Philadelphia, not every market would carry them, however, and the ones that did, would only bring them every so often. Seeing squash blossoms was always a treat.

Imagine my surprise upon running into this at my Sunday San Clemente farmers' market:

Have you ever scene so many zucchini blossoms in one space at one time? I purchased a half pound for three dollars and set to work. Of course, I battered and fried a few. But I also made something I have been dying to make for years: squash blossom quesadillas. (I even found fresh corn masa at a Mexican market in my town) And with my leftover quesadilla filling, I made a yummy squash-blossom pizza.

Do you know anything about plant sex? Here's a little lesson: Squash flowers are either male or female: male flowers are equipped with a stamen, females with a stigma. Males, more plentiful in number, stand on long, thin stems, while the females, sitting on a small, fuzzy green ball, blossom closer to the vine.

Only when a grain of pollen from the stamen lands on the stigma, will this ball turn into a squash. Pollination occurs when bees or other insects travel from flower to flower, or when the wind blows. Using a brush, humans can fertilize the plant as well by collecting pollen from the stamen and painting it onto the stigma.

But here’s the miracle: Pollination can occur on only one day in a blossom’s entire lifetime. Just before dawn, the flowers uncurl; by midday, they begin to close; and by dusk, they close, precluding pollination forever. Few flowers actually ever bear fruit. I know, I know, home gardeners can't give away enough zucchini during the growing season. I still think it's amazing.

Pictured below are mini zucchini with the female blossom still attached. The Carlsbad farm growing all of these blossoms promises to bring them to the market every weekend all summer long.

As you can see, I'm on a bit of a pizza kick right now as well. Pictured below is the squash-blossom pizza, a male zucchini flower (picked from my garden), and the edge of a pizza topped with thinly shaved rounds of zucchini, grated Pecorino, sliced mozzarella, red pepper flakes and fresh basil, (currently my favorite preparation).

So, incidentally, my male and female zucchini blossoms mated successfully, producing these three zucchini. I cut them from their stems over the weekend, shaved them into long spaghetti-like ribbons with my mandoline, tossed them with olive oil, lemon juice, salt, pepper and Pecorino, and ate them raw. This salad is not dissimilar to the fresh fava bean and Pecorino salad posted last month.

I don't have an accurate recipe yet for the squash blossom filling, but I followed instructions given to me by the Carlsbad farmer selling the blossoms and am pretty happy with the results. You basically just sauté an onion until tender, and then add a chopped tomato and the blossoms, and with the pan covered, cook for about five minutes.

Weekend Baking: Blueberry Crumb Coffee Cake

2008-06-07T14:31:00.001-07:00

I have been wanting to make rhubarb coffee cake since seeing a recipe posted on the blog Smitten Kitchen in February. I waited and waited to see rhubarb at the farmers' market, but it seems I either missed it or it never arrived.

In any case, I woke up Saturday morning dying to do some baking and craving a piece of coffee cake. I pulled up the SK recipe for Big Crumb Coffee Cake — first printed in Melissa Clark's NY Times' column "Big Appetite" — and decided frozen blueberries would be an acceptable substitute for the rhubarb.

I decided, too, that I wanted the cake to be baked before Ben woke up. I could hear him stirring in the other room and knew I didn't have much time. I set to work, frantically pulling bowls from the cupboards, measuring cups from the drawers and ingredients from the pantry, hoping the thrashing wouldn't expedite his emergence. Before long, the various components of the cake — the sugar-coated berries, the thick, buttery batter and the big-crumb topping — had been prepared and the cake assembled. Before long, too, the smell of warm, stewing blueberries pervaded the apartment, gently tapping on the bedroom door.

As I pulled the cake from the oven, the love of my life — sorry to be such a cheese, but I've been gone for two weekends in a row — walked into the kitchen. Perfect timing. I switched on the coffee, let the cake cool briefly and then tucked in. Yum!

Now, when I make this cake again, I will follow the instructions, and I know the results will be even more pleasing. Where I messed up most was in step two. Step two should result in the creation of a solid dough — the foundation of the "big crumbs" — but instead resulted in a crumbly, small-clump mix. In the end, the topping baked just fine, but the "big crumbs," a critical component to the cake, were few and far between. Yay for next weekend, I'll be home again, likely without rhubarb but with a freezer full of berries, a slightly unsatisfied hunger for coffee cake and hopefully a bit more patience.

Blueberry Crumb Coffee Cake
Adapted from the NY Times’ column "Big Appetite" by Melissa Clark via the blog Smitten Kitchen
Yield: 8 to 10 servings

Butter for greasing pan

For the filling: 
½ lb. blueberries
2T. sugar 
2 tsp. cornstarch 

For the crumbs: 
1/3 C. dark brown sugar 
1/3 C. granulated sugar 
1 tsp. ground cinnamon  
1/8 tsp. salt 
½ C. melted butter 
1¾ C. cake flour or all-purpose or whole-grain pastry flour (I used a mix of all three)

For the cake: 
1/3 C. sour cream 
1 large egg 
1 large egg yolk 
2 tsp. vanilla extract 
1 C. cake flour or all-purpose flour
½ C. sugar 
½ tsp. baking soda 
½ tsp. baking powder 
¼ tsp. salt 
6 T. softened butter, cut into 8 pieces.

1. Preheat oven to 325ºF. Grease an 8-inch-square baking pan. Toss blueberries with sugar and cornstarch. Set aside.

2. To make crumbs, in a large bowl, whisk together sugars, spices, salt and butter until smooth. Stir in flour with a spatula. It will look like a solid dough.

3. To prepare cake, in a small bowl, stir together the sour cream, egg, egg yolk and vanilla. Using a mixer fitted with paddle attachment, mix together flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Add butter and a spoonful of sour cream mixture and mix on medium speed until flour is moistened. Increase speed and beat for 30 seconds. Add remaining sour cream mixture in two batches, beating for 20 seconds after each addition, and scraping down the sides of bowl with a spatula. Scoop out about ½ cup of the batter and set aside.

4. Scrape remaining batter into prepared pan. Spoon blueberries over batter. Dollop set-aside batter over berries; it does not have to be even.

5. Using your fingers, break topping mixture into big crumbs, about 1/2 inch to 3/4 inch in size. They do not have to be uniform, but make sure most are around that size. Sprinkle over cake. Bake cake until a toothpick inserted into center comes out clean of batter, 45 to 55 minutes. Cool completely before serving.

Two Things Everyone Should Know

2008-06-04T19:03:00.000-07:00

1. You can get a new passport within 24 hours.

Last Friday, I hopped on a plane to Cabo. The Monday before I departed, I discovered my passport had expired in March. After sending a few freakout emails to friends, I began some constructive research on the Internet. For an average price of $200, I discovered, mail-in services will issue new passports within 24 hours. The legitimacy more than the price concerned me.

I searched further and learned that an alternative exists, though this option is more convenient for some than others: If you need a new passport within 14 days of travel, you must make an appointment at one of the 15 Regional Passport Agencies located across the country. One, lucky for me, happens to be in L.A. (From a wise source, I heard that Minnesotans, in a pinch, will fly to Chicago to take care of passport issues.)

For future reference, call 1-877-4USA-PPT (1-877-487-2778) to schedule an appointment. And the official Web site for passport matters is: www.travel.state.gov. The expedited services costs $135, but count on spending at least another $50 for food and entertainment while you wait for it to be issued.

2. Digital cameras costing only $9.99 can be purchased at drugstores. And, these cameras come with a little carrying case, a cd and a USB cord. You can judge the quality of the pictures for yourself:

Why would anyone purchase such a camera? Well, last Wednesday, I suddenly found myself in L.A. with five hours to kill. (After I waited in line, filled out the paperwork and turned in all of my documents, I was told to return at 3:00 p.m. to retrieve my little blue book.) The passport agency, I soon discovered, is located just blocks away from the heart of Westwood and UCLA. And before I knew it, I had stumbled into a Pinkberry.

I have heard so much about Pinkberry. I remember reading a NYTimes article about lines of devoted customers extending around the block of the West Hollywood shop. The green-tea flavor sounded exotic, and all of the fruit toppings, fresh and healthy*.

Upon seeing the shop, I became overwhelmed with emotions: excitement, because I had wanted to sample the "swirly goodness" for years; sadness, because I had left my camera at home and would have no way of documenting the moment.

It was 10:00 a.m. when I spotted the shop. I needed to work up a little bit of an appetite, so I walked around UCLA — which is beautiful! — and then up and down the streets of Westwood. I made several phone calls, one to my mother, who suggested I check out a drugstore for a disposable digital camera. She's so smart! CVS had just the device I needed. And, it's not even disposable, though I still haven't figured out how to erase the 20 pictures I have taken.

As you can see, I'm still learning how to center the subject of the photos:

*Recent reports have disclosed that Pinkberry yogurt is not the all-natural wonder once believed, which might explain the absence of any sort of a line when I arrived at the shop. And, though I had a blast tasting it, I'm not sure it deserves all the attention it has received.

Tortillas & Blossoms

2008-06-02T20:09:00.000-07:00

I have a vision of the perfect tortilla. It's made of corn, from fresh masa, not masa harina. It's thin. It's soft. And, ideally, it's made to order on a griddle-like surface like the ones served every weekend at the Primavera Mexican stand at the San Francisco Ferry Building Farmers' Market. Several summers ago on a visit to San Fran for a wedding, Ben and I savored these freshly made tortillas for breakfast, filling them with scrambled eggs, salsa, avocados and cheese.

This meal inspired me to buy one of those tortilla presses and to try to replicate our experience at home. I soon learned, however, the task would be impossible — fresh corn masa was no where to be found in the Philadelphia area. Ben even called a shop in California (after reading an article online), to ask if the masa could be shipped across country. (This was before we went local). The woman refused, however, alleging that the masa would perish en route. I made a batch of tortillas anyway using the Maseca brand masa harina — the product all the local taquerías used as well — but the results proved far from satisfying. As time passed, I gave up my search for fresh masa and settled for store-bought varieties, which tasted far superior to my homemade creations. (Incidentally, if you are interested in learning more about the homemade tortilla making process, read this San Francisco Chronicle article.)

I just returned from a wedding in Baja where the yummy tortillas I ate at every meal reminded me of my bygone quest for the perfect tortilla. At the hotel restaurant, the waiters delivered a basket of warm flour and corn tortillas with every meal to be filled with eggs, fish, beef or whatever. Now, I don't know if it's just that no tortilla will ever measure up to the ones made at the Primavera stand, or if I've changed — I think I prefer flour to corn. I know, I know, corn is more authentic, but there was something about these small, thin, chewy flour tortillas that I could not resist. Alas, it seems my vision of the perfect tortilla may have changed.

How cute is this little zucchini? Each time I walk by my blossom-filled pot, however, I am tempted to rip off the flowers, stuff them with cheese and fry them up. Fortunately, my farmers' market has a limitless supply of these blossoms, and I can resist the urge.

Now, about this non-local, grass-fed beef. I'm embarrassed to name its country of origin, but I had traveled all the way to Jimbo's market with Aunt Vicki and her mother, Sy, and I could not pass up the opportunity to purchase a bit of grass-fed meat. Seasoned with salt and pepper, grilled for three to four minutes a side, tri-tip makes a wonderful taco filling, needing little more than salsa, chopped onion and a splash of lime.

Grass-Fed Tri-tip Tacos
Serves 2 to 3

1 lb. grass-fed tri-tip, flank or skirt steak
kosher salt and peper to taste
6 to 9 soft, corn or flour tortillas
finely diced white onion
chopped cilantro
1 avocado, thinly sliced
pico de gallo
1 limes, quartered
grated cheese (optional)
sour cream (optional)

1. Preheat a grill to high. (Alternatively, place a large frying pan over high heat and add a tablespoon of olive oil.) Season the steaks on all sides with salt and pepper to taste. Preheat the oven to 300ºF. Wrap the tortillas in foil and place in the oven.

2. Place onion, cilantro, avocados, pico de gallo, limes, cheese and sour cream in small bowls. Place in the center of the table.

3. Grill the steaks to desired doneness, then let rest for five minutes. Slice thinly against the grain and pile onto a platter. Remove tortillas from the oven, and place two on each plate. Begin assembling tacos.