Three Corners

I have a huge stash of things in jars.

Sometimes I go to pull one thing out of the stash and I find something else entirely and I’m all like “Yeah! This is gonna be sooo good.”

I did that yesterday when I was looking for some sort of jam to put into the cookies the kids and I were making. I found a jar of curry pickled green tomatoes that I had completely forgotten about. I still have an open jar of a different kind of tomato pickle in the fridge so I restrained myself and didn’t pull the new jar out of the bench.

I’ll just have to find an excuse to use up the other pickles so I can eat the new ones.

But in the meantime I’m also restraining myself from eating all those cookies we made.

It’s Purim this week–a Jewish holiday marking the saving of the Jewish people of the city of Shushan by their secretly Jewish queen, Esther. It’s traditional to give gifts of food to neighbors and loved ones. Actually, pretty much anybody. This is a tradition I have no trouble getting behind, because I am really good at making huge batches of things for the sole purpose of giving them away. Usually one of the things that is included in the goodie bag is a few hamentashen.

Yesterday I was home with all three little Goldbergs while Joe did a 70 mile ride with his bike team. We went to the park and did some other stuff, but the best part of the day was the cookies. We made the dough in the morning and once Lilli was down for the count after lunch, Isaac and I (Aaron was out with a friend) rolled out the dough and got them into the oven.

We used kumquat marmalade and crab apple jelly to fill them. They’re not exactly traditional Jewish fillings, but whatever. I’m not exactly a traditional Jew.

The last couple of years I have tried different recipes for hamentashen and not been happy with any of them. I’m not really sure why it took me so long to figure it out. It’s basically a sugar cookie dough, sometimes parve (no dairy or meat ingredients) or sometimes not, and then you fold it up into little three cornered treasure boxes of fruit or poppyseed filling. They’re pretty basic as far as technical skill goes.

This year I think I finally got them right. The trick is to use a solid fat instead of oil, which is what some recipes call for. The oil makes them parve, but you can just as easily use vegetable shortening, or I guess margarine, if you need them to not have any dairy. A recipe I got from a friend had a substitution to make them vegan even.

If you’re looking for a basic recipe this is the one. I based it on a recipe I got out of a cookbook that I think came from my mother-in-law, a cookbook called “Daf Yummy.” I tweaked some parts of it to meet in the middle with the recipe my friend swears by, and ended up with a dough I can finally be proud to call “my hamentashen recipe.” You could add orange zest in addition to the orange juice, you can switch up half of the flour for whole wheat, you can add a tsp of cinnamon or another spice to the dough. You could even make them chocolate by substituting about 1/4 cup of the flour for cocoa powder.

Now, when you’re eating all those cookies, you might need something to wash them down with.

Another Purim tradition, one that is actually commanded by the Talmud according to some Rabbis, is to drink. Heavily. There’s a lot of drinking in the story–it pretty much saved the day. So, you are supposed to drink until you are perfumed with wine and can’t tell the Hamens (bad guys) from the Mordechais (good guys). To help you along I worked out a recipe for a cocktail that is the perfect embodiment of the heroine in this Purim story: Queen Esther.

She’s strong and sweet. She’s bold, but knows exactly when to play her cards. She’s everything a heroine needs to be–just like this cocktail. It’s smooth and sweet and comes on slowly, building up to end each sip with a little fire.

There’s a long tradition of sweetened citrus drinks in the Middle East, dating back centuries, to the time of Esther and her kin. The grapefruit is a new twist on that idea, playing against the herbal notes of the thyme perfectly. I like to think that Her Highness would have approved of this refreshing mix, and would have gladly served it to her King. Maybe she wouldn’t have used good bourbon for old Hamen though.

Hamentashen
makes about 36 cookies

3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
3/4 cup sugar, depending on how sweet your filling will be
2 cups all purpose flour
1 large egg, broken up with a fork
2 Tbsp fresh squeezed orange juice (or lemon)
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp baking powder
2 tsp salt
2 1/2 cup all purpose flour

Filling of choice such as jam, ganache, or a more traditional filling such as prune or poppy seed

In a food processor, blend the sugar and butter until well combined. Add the egg, orange juice, vanilla extract, baking soda, and salt. Pulse just until everything looks mixed in. Add in the flour and blend until the dough comes together in a ball. Wrap in plastic or parchment paper and refrigerate for several hours.

When you are ready to bake your cookies, preheat the oven to 375ºF. Line 2 (or 3 if you have them) cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Working with 1/2 batch at a time, roll out the dough on a lightly floured surface to about 1/8″ thick. Cut out circles about 2 1/2″ in diameter, using a cookie cutter or the rim of a glass dipped in flour. You can re-roll the dough, but you might need to chill it a bit longer depending on how cold it was to begin with.

Line the circles up on the trays and place about 1 Tbsp of filling in each cookie. I like to use a small ice cream style scoop for this job, it makes it slightly less messy. Fold up the edges of the cookies on three sides, making a nice little triangle around the filling. Be sure to let some of the filling show in the center. If the corners won’t stick together on their own, use a wet finger to trace a circle around each piece of dough, then fold them up.

Bake for about 10-12 minutes, or until the corners are a nice golden brown. Cool completely on wire racks before eating these cookies, or you run the risk of burning your mouth on the filling. Just take my word on this.

The Queen Esther
makes 1 cocktail

2 oz good bourbon
1/6 Ruby grapefruit
1 large sprig thyme
1 Tbsp simple syrup
3-4 dashes grapefruit bitters, I like Fee Brothers

In a cocktail shaker, muddle the grapefruit and the thyme, squeezing as much juice out of the grapefruit as you can. Add the bourbon, syrup, and bitters. Put in a handful of ice, put on the top, and shake it up. Pour over fresh ice and garnish with grapefruit and more thyme, if desired.

A Little Taste of Childhood

When I was little, I would sometimes get “invited” to my Grandmother’s house for tea parties. The kind of tea party where you had to wear a frilly dress and act like a lady. Which would not have been a problem for me, because when I was a little girl I was about as girly as you could get. Hair like Goldilocks and a wardrobe to match. There was definitely a period of at least a year (probably longer) where I refused to wear pants unless there was a skirt over the pants. Sometimes I wonder what happened to that girl?

Anyway, back to the tea parties.

There would be fancy cucumber sandwiches–you know, the kind with the thin crustless bread, lots of butter and a smattering of the best French sea salt. Probably quiche as well, rich but light, and filled with things like asparagus and salty cheeses. Salads of delicate greens, thinly sliced radishes and green onions, drizzled with vinaigrettes aromatic with fresh herbs and honey.

And sweets, of course.

Looking back, I probably didn’t even like to eat all of those foods. I was a pretty picky kid. I might have eaten sandwiches and sweets alongside my tea (which was probably more milk and sugar than tea to begin with). I remember the teas as being held in great big dining rooms filled with light that bounced a hundred ways off the clean china, the silver shining dully against pale linens. In reality they were held most often in humble but beautifully decorated spaces that were big because we had a big family. And they gave my grandmother an excuse to dote over me. I especially liked the dressing up, part, obviously. And the dramatics. I was kind of dramatic.

I can’t wait to have tea parties with Lilli, it’s gonna be so awesome and nostalgic.

In the meantime, I have to content myself with concocting ways to have fancy tea in a grown up fashion. Another half birthday (mine, yesterday) was as good an excuse as any, I supposed.

One more tiny tale about me and childhood: I can’t recall getting to have very many birthday parties at school. I have a summer birthday and was cursed to also have a half birthday that only comes every 4 years. So if my class was the kind of class that celebrated summer birthdays on your half birthday, I was out of luck twice. They only way I ever got a party was one of those lame “all the summer birthdays at once” sort of parties. And let’s not fool ourselves, friends, those parties are NO FUN if you are a kid and you want your birthday to be all about you.

So this year my half birthday got marked, just like Joe’s. I’ll be 30 in August, so there’s no better way, really, to draw out the time until that big 3-0 while at the same time challenging it to meet me head on.

Not that I actually had a party mind you. Fancy dessert is good enough for me.

These little party puddings did not disappoint, either. It has seemed to me that tea inspired desserts have been popping up here and there lately, and I have to admit I’ve wanted to try my hand at these little puddings for quite a while. I think I bought the fancy tea way back in December.

I adore Earl Grey tea. Bergamot is my dream scent. If I could pick one scent to have around me constantly for the rest of my natural life it would be bergamot. Or maybe Daphne, but that’s not really an edible so it doesn’t count here.

These little custards are in the classic French tradition of which I know my Grandmother would wholeheartedly approve. They are soft and creamy, melting on the tongue to leave a trace on the breath of warm citrus and floral notes that could come easily straight from the month of June, but are also appreciated on dreary Winter days like we’ve been having here this week.

Earl Grey Pots de Creme
makes 6

1 cup half & half
1 cup milk
½ cup sugar
2 whole eggs
2 egg yolks
½ tsp lemon zest, finely grated
⅛ tsp salt, optional
3 Tbsp Earl Grey tea, or 3 tea bags (less if you like weaker tea)

Bring tea, cream, half & half, and lemon zest to a simmer. Steep for 30 minutes, then strain out tea.

Preheat oven to 325ºF.

Whisk sugar, salt, and egg yolks until smooth. Reheat cream to just a bare boil, then slowly add to the egg mixture while whisking constantly but slowly.

Place 6 small custard cups or other small ramekins in a high sided baking pan large enough so that the cups won’t touch. Carefully pour hot water into the dish until the cups are immersed halfway up the sides, being careful not to get any water in the cups themselves. Divide the custard mixture between the cups and remove any big bubbles that have formed on the top.

Some might cover the pan with foil, but if you “forget”, it’s not that big of a deal. Bake for ½ hour, or until the custard is set around the edges but still loose in the middle. It will continue to cook as it cools.

Cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator. Chill for several hours, or overnight.

Sweet Mourning

This weekend I got some time to myself. Just me and a friend and a few sad bee carcases.

I know, it’s a little morbid. But you have to be realistic when you keep bees. You will inevitably kill a few by accident in the process, and sometimes, you lose a whole hive.

One of the hives I keep with my friend Meghan didn’t survive the winter. Our theory is that they got chilled when the roof of their hive body sprung a leak of sorts and the walls of the wooden boxes they called home became damp and mildewy. Meghan also said she suspects the queen was never very strong to begin with, and that she thinks she died back in November. It’s taken till recently for the last of the colony to die off in the cold, lonely winter.

It made us both a little sad, but it also made us a little bit happy because there was still some honey in those combs!

The harvest took us longer than we expected due to problems with mold on some of the combs, so mid-harvest I had to head home to eat lunch with my favorite people. As a result I didn’t get to see how much honey there was in the end. I did however get to sneak away with a little jar of sweet goodness. We all sampled it with our lunch and it was very good indeed.

I said a little thank you to the bees who gave their lives to provide us with something so amazing, and I said the same little thank you yesterday morning when I poured a tiny drizzle over the pears I sauteed to go with our breakfast–a bread pudding made of leftover wacked out sourdough.

Friday night I took a loaf of sourdough out of the freezer for our Shabbat bread. A pretty miserable loaf of sourdough at that. When I originally baked it on Monday, I baked it in a hurry, which is ironic considering it took three days to actually make the bread itself. In my haste to get it in the oven on time for dinner guests after arriving home late to start our meal, I forgot to slash the tops. It was like adding insult to injury–the bread was slightly underproofed. It baked up flavorful but on the dense side, and the crust never really browned, just toughening up as it went along. It was so weird.

It did make killer bread pudding though. I mixed it up Saturday night and popped it in the oven first thing Sunday morning: I cut off most of the offending crust (the top part was OK, and I like the chewiness of a little bit left in a bread pudding) and cut it into rough cubes, poured on some custard and let it soak overnight. It’s the closest you can get to a decadent breakfast that makes itself. I will spare you the pictures. It wasn’t pretty in the least.

This isn’t a traditional bread pudding. It’s eggier to satisfy a morning hunger, and it’s less sweet than usual to make room for the sweetness of the pears I set alongside. I hope you’ll give it a try next time you have an ugly loaf of bread sitting around, offending your sensibilities.

It was the perfect thing to eat before a trip to the Sunday Farmer’s Market. A trip that was made (mostly) in the sun.

And yes, we still ate a huge muffin as a snack.

Cardamom Breakfast Bread Pudding with Sauteed Pears
makes one dish about 9″x 13″ or a comparably sized pan, serves 6-8

For the Bread Pudding:
1 loaf sourdough bread, crust removed (or mostly removed)
6 eggs
2 1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 cup cream or half & half (you can use all milk if you like, it will be less rich)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 Tbsp ground cardamom
1/2 Tbsp ground cinnamon
pinch salt
butter to grease the pan
1 cup raisins or other dried fruit cut into small pieces, optional

For the Pears:
6 small–or 4 large–firm pears, such as Bosc
1/2 cup honey, more or less to taste
2 Tbsp butter

Make a day in advance for the most satisfying results. Bake in an oven preheated to 375ºF.

Cut the bread into thick slices and then into cubes about 1″ in size. Set aside.

Mix the eggs, milk, cream, sugar, spices and salt in a large bowl. Add the bread and, using a large spoon or your hands, turn to coat all the bread evenly with the milk mixture. Cover and refrigerate overnight.

In the morning, turn on the oven (375ºf) and grease your pan. Pour in the bread mixture, stirring well one more time before doing so. Bake for 40-45 minutes, or until completely set. It might take longer if you bake it in a deeper pan.

While the pudding bakes, core the pears (peel if you like) and cut into eights. Heat a large skillet over medium high heat and add the butter to the pan. Once the butter is melted, add in the pears and let brown for a few minutes before adding the honey. Stir to coat and then turn down the heat and continue to cook until the pears soften but before they turn to mush. Turn off the heat if your pudding still needs a while to bake. Cover, and reheat briefly over medium heat if need be before serving.

Once the pudding is set, take it out of the oven and let sit for about 5 minutes before serving to allow the custard to set a touch more and to bring down to an edible temperature. Serve everything warm.

Break the Cycle

Sometimes we have leftovers. Like, a lot of leftovers.

Sometimes we don’t have any.

Why is there such a weird cycle of this? It drives me crazy because when there aren’t any leftovers it means I have to either eat plain old salad for lunch or make something new. Or else it means that there isn’t anything for Joe to take to work.

I hate that.

But what I hate even worse is when we have a lot of leftovers and things get forgotten about or ignored (because there are better leftovers in a different container) and then go bad as a result. You can’t feed everything to the chickens, you know.

One thing that’s always kind of an oddball leftover is oatmeal. Oatmeal? I’m not really sure how we end up with leftover oatmeal on a regular basis but I can tell you that I’ve had it in the fridge half a dozen times this Winter.

Good thing Winter is almost over and we can stop eating oatmeal as often because we’ll feel like eating fruit salad instead. Spring is coming. We’ve got flowers blooming, and I’ve been pulling radishes and pre-sprouting pea seeds in the oven like they were a bread dough to coddle.

But until Summer is actually here and we’re eating fresh fruit and yogurt everyday, I’ve figured out what to do with that leftover oatmeal that isn’t “feed it to the chickens” (or now, the worms in the worm-bin).

Waffles!

Yes! I love waffles. We eat waffles at least once a week and it’s still one of those breakfasts that the boys consistently get super excited about, as if I never make them or something.

And as an added bonus, these waffles are pretty healthy. There’s a bit of applesauce in there for sweetness, which also makes it so there’s no added oil or butter like a lot of waffle batters. So, they’re relatively low fat and almost entirely whole grain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They are, however, 100% entirely delicious. And they make a breakfast hearty enough to fill you up so that you can go out and garden for a while, or splash in puddles.

Oatmeal and Applesauce Waffles
makes 8–8″ waffles in a Belgian waffle iron, batch easily splits in half

3/4 cup all purpose flour
3/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 heaping Tbsp Baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3 eggs
1 2/3 cup milk, any will work
1 cup unsweetened (not chunky) applesauce
2 cups cooked, cold, rolled oats

If you decided to halve the recipe, use one whole egg and one egg white.

While the waffle iron heats up, whisk together all the dry ingredients. Next whisk in the eggs, milk and applesauce. Once the batter is an even consistency, add in the oats and use the whisk to break them up, then whisk them in. It will still be kinda chunky from the oats, but that’s a good thing.

Cook however you like to cook your waffles. It would probably also make excellent pancakes, though I haven’t tried that yet.

Inkling of Spring

This morning I woke up to several glorious things.

Light streaming in the window, which indicated that it actually was morning.

And a small sound from the room one door down, a little voice chirping “Mama, mama.”

An amazing sound when you’ve spent the last 1.5 years week being awoken at all sorts of ungodly hours to crying, whining or just plain screaming. Gonna be honest here friends, night weaning is a bitch.

Even when your kid is the most adorable thing ever.

And then I started dreaming of it being warm enough to picnic. A semi-decent nights rest after weeks and weeks of nights where you only get, on average, 5 hours of sleep a night can make you think crazy thoughts.

I really love a good spring picnic, and pretty much can’t wait for spring days that are sunny enough to enjoy from outside the windows and doors of my house. Maybe bundled up enjoyment, but enjoyment nonetheless.

Until then I’ve been making loaves and loaves of bread to be eaten with too much butter (which is a misnomer because there is no such thing as too much butter) and also salad.

Salads help me pretend that Spring is already here, especially ones like this one.

Take some veggies just barely painted with color, like fennel and endive:

Add several fruits that signal how near the end of winter is:

Next, a modest splash of color:

And pretty soon you have a salad that will, if need be, feed 8 adults and 2 kids and still leave leftovers. Leftovers that hold up admirably well for a salad, slightly dressed even. Or you could just make 1/2. Or eat more. It’s salad after all–no limits.

You could serve it next to little fried beet chips, like I did, if it seems too healthy. Fried food is a good antidote for “too healthy.”

But, no matter what you serve it alongside (We also ate this, for a big family dinner on Friday.) it will be delicious and give you a little taste of spring.

Shaved Fennel and Watermelon Radish Salad with Meyer Lemons
makes about 10 side servings, or 4 larger lunch servings

1 bulb fennel, fronds removed and reserved
3 meyer lemons
4-5 large watermelon radishes
2 small heads endive
2 Tbsp olive oil, or to taste
salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste

Line up all the endive leaves and chop into 3/4″ bite-sized pieces. Spread out on a large platter and cover with a damp paper towel while you prep the rest of the ingredients.

Supreme the lemons, and chop the supremes into little bitty bite sized pieces, about the size of your pinky nail. Set these pieces aside in a small bowl. Do not wipe off your cutting surface, you want the fennel to sit in the lemon juice that’s left on the cutting board.

Remove any tough or bruised parts from the outside of the fennel and slice very thin using a mandoline. Pour any extra juice that has collected in the bottom of the lemon bowl over the fennel and toss just lightly. Add the shavings in one big heaping layer on top of the endive. From the reserved fronds, take the just best looking two or three and chop them finely, saving to use as a garnish. Cover again with the damp paper towels.

Peel any tough spots from the outside of the radishes. If you can’t find watermelon that’s ok. You can use any radish here. Slice them as thin as you like using the mandoline. I didn’t slice mine as thin as they could go because I wanted them to stay pretty crunchy. Add them as the next layer in the salad.

For the last layer, add the lemon bites over the top. Follow with the chopped fennel fronds. Next pour the olive oil over the whole thing slowly working over the whole salad. If you feel like you need more, by all means add it. I deliberately left this a very lightly dressed salad. Sprinkle some salt and pepper, and call it done!

If you, like me, are preparing this salad ahead of time for an evening dinner, leave it in the fridge without the oil, salt, and pepper, covered with the same damp paper towels you used throughout.

Brown Sugar Was Made For Me

Last week I ran out of sugar. And by “ran out” I mean the white stuff that is good for baking and putting in coffee.

I put brown sugar in my coffee instead of going to the grocery store. No biggie.

I happened to have just received a very odd cake pan as an impromptu gift from my mother. She’s good at giving gifts that are seemingly practical and yet I never seem to actually use them. What can I say? She’s a mom. (Love you, Mom!)

And I had all those freaking oranges and things.

I decided I wanted to make a pound cake. When I was a kid, someone told me that pound cake was made using a pound of butter and a pound of sugar and something else. I can’t really remember. And I don’t even think that was true. Ever. Pound cake does not use an entire pound of anything, really. But it does weigh a lot, so I guess that’s why I believed that crazy lie.

What pound cake does use though is white sugar, usually.

But, I’m good at switching things up. I started with a recipe from Alton Brown. He let me down a couple of weeks ago, so I was gave him a chance to redeem himself. I took a recipe from his book I’m Just Here For More Food, which I use a lot when I need a basic recipe to use as a jumping off point for something more adventurous.

Like when I decided to bake a cake in this weird old ceramic pan, which made the cake bake FOREVER.

Cake batter spread into the pan, ready to go in the oven.

Anyway, redeem himself he did even though I took his recipe and pretty much made it an all new thing. I added blood orange zest and juice and used only that brown sugar.

To top it off, I lined the top of the pan with some candied blood orange slices.

The brown sugar and the blood orange are pretty much a match made in heaven.

Or at least, for me.

Brown Sugar Pound Cake with Blood Oranges

1 cup unsalted butter, room temp
1 1/2 cups dark brown sugar
3 large eggs
3 blood oranges
3 cups all purpose flour (I used 1 cup ea: whole wheat, AP and oat. It was goood.)
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1 scant cup buttermilk

Preheat the oven to 325ºF. Grease a regular sized tube style pan or 2 small loaf pans. Line the bottom of the pan(s) with candied orange slices (recipe following), making sure some of the slices go up the sides of the pan at least a little bit.

Zest all three of the oranges. Juice 2 of them and add the juice to the buttermilk. Make supremes of the last orange. Chop up the supremes pretty small and set aside.

Cream the butter, the sugar and the orange zest until light and fluffy. Add the eggs one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Scrape the bowl as necessary. While the butter creams whisk together the flour(s), baking soda, and salt

Alternate the dry ingredients with the buttermilk/juice mixture. After the last addition of buttermilk let it mix just barely, then take off the mixer and fold in the chopped up orange segments, mixing just until everything is an even consistency. Pour into the pan and bake for about an hour, or until the cake starts to pull away from the sides of the pan. Cool in the pan for about 20 minutes, then tip out onto a wire rack to finish cooling.

Once it’s cool use a pastry brush to paint the outside with the syrup you reserved from candying the oranges.

Definitely serve with ice cream or whipped cream.

For the Candied Orange Slices

Heat equal parts water and granulated sugar in a wide, shallow sauce pan. Bring to a boil. You will need about 2 cups of syrup total to candy an orange.

Slice an orange very very thinly. The absolute best way to do this is on a mandoline. If you don’t own one, I suggest you go buy one. Seriously. It will make your life so much easier. Failing that, use a very sharp knife and be patient. You might need to slice more than one orange to get enough good slices, or, don’t be a perfectionist like me.

Once the syrup is boiling, turn down the heat and add the oranges. Try to spread them out so there aren’t too many layered on top of each other. Simmer the slices until the peels start to turn translucent, then remove them to a cooling rack to dry overnight. When I do this, I judge each slice individually, because some slices might take longer than others, especially if they were not cut on a mandoline and they are not all the same thickness.

Reserve the syrup for the cake.

That’s it! Once they are dry, store them in an airtight container. Don’t let your toddler get ahold of it or she will eat them all. For real.

Half Birthday’s Aren’t Just for Kids

I know this guy. We get along pretty well, so sometimes we hang out. Usually we don’t get to hang out by ourselves, but that’s OK with us since the rest of the usual group can be fun too, since they’re our kids and all.

Anyway, this guy’s name is Joe, and today is his half birthday. Normally grown-ups don’t celebrate half birthdays but that is just a crying shame. This morning when he flipped the calendar page he realized the date and wanted to know if he could have half a birthday cake.

I think he was a little surprised when I said sure, but who likes to get their hopes up and then have them dashed? Certainly not me.

So I made him one. I cheated a little and used a cake that had been in our freezer, pretty much just waiting for the right moment to come along. One when it would be thoroughly enjoyed.

Slathered with buttercream, who can tell the difference anyway? Ok, so the buttercream was in the freezer too, colored a very garish yellow from Lilli’s first birthday. 

We also had a Thai inspired feast for dinner, to go with our chocolate cake. Most of the foods in the meal weren’t anything special because this week we are trying to kind of clean out our freezers and use up leftovers because Joe’s kind of a frugal guy. I had some leftover teriyaki salmon that I turned into fish cakes with some lime, ginger and some cilantro straight from the garden. And I had some lemongrass and half a container of tofu so I made a quick curry tofu soup with a little bit of coconut milk. Well, maybe a lot of coconut milk.

The soup came straight from my own brain. The fish cakes too, which is maybe why they weren’t very pretty–they ended up more like fish hash than cakes but oh well. I don’t know how to cook Thai food like a pro, but I do love to eat it so I think I at least have that going for me. The recipes probably aren’t that authentic, but they were pretty simple and that’s helpful if you’re also trying to entertain a silly silly little girl while making dinner.

The cake came from Fanny Farmer, a book I use very frequently. There’s something about the old recipes that I really love–they are classic, sure, but mostly it’s how they are written. They’re so matter of fact. I have to tweak them sometimes, but I don’t mind a bit. There are a lot of pages stuck together, and the gold hardcover is starting to break down in places, but that just shows how loved it really is.

Fudge Cake
Adapted from Fanny Farmer, 1965 edition
makes two 7″ or 8″ cakes

1/2 cup unsalted butter
1 cup sugar, divided use
1/2 tsp vanilla
4 oz good semi sweet chocolate
5 Tbsp boiling water
3 eggs
1 3/4 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp cream of tartar
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup milk

Preheat oven to 350ºF

Sift together the flour, cream of tartar, baking soda and salt. Set aside.

Cream together butter, vanilla, and 3/4 cup sugar until light and fluffy.

Meanwhile, over a double boiler melt the chocolate. Once it’s melted smooth add the boiling water and the remaining 1/4 cup sugar.

Add to the butter mixture. Next add the eggs, one at a time. Beat after each addition, scraping down the bowl as needed.

Add the flour to this mixture alternating with the milk.

Divide in the pans and bake about 20 minutes, rotating half way through. Check with a toothpick and give it 5 more minutes or so if needed. Cool completely before frosting.

Good News

You know how when the sun comes out in the middle of winter it’s like you’ve never seen it before? Even if it was out the day before? (But especially if like here in Seattle it was raining cats and dogs?) 

You know also, how when you actually get to go outside and let your totally bundled up self absorb some of that sunlight it makes you feel really warm and happy and want to skip around in a meadow somewhere.

Yeah me neither. Not at all.

Recently I made muffins that pretty much served to encapsulate that breath of sun in a slightly sweetened fluffy goodness. They had apricots. Lots and lots of them. Frozen at the peak of summer but then folded into a muffin batter hearty enough to sustain you on even the coldest winter day.

The bad news about these muffins is that you probably don’t have several gallon sized freezer bags full of apricots with which to make them over and over, like I have. The good news about them is that you really could use just about any type of fruit in them. They could have frozen berries, or peeled and chopped apples or pears, or even frozen peaches.

Oh, I thought of some more good news about these muffins. They are pretty healthy, since they’re whole wheat and oat and have a whole mess of protein rich ingredients alongside that pile of fruit.  They are a great breakfast or snack for this time of year, when most people are trying to eat a little bit lighter. Even more good news is that they are great slathered in butter, in case eating light isn’t a priority.

Sun is Shining Good News Muffins
makes 12 regular sized little cups of joy

  • 1 cup whole wheat flour
  • 1/2 cup oat flour
  • 1/2 cup garbanzo bean flour
  • 1/4 cup ground flax
  • 1/2 cup bran flakes
  • 1/2 cup sugar
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 1 Tbsp baking powder
  • 1 1/2 cup milk
  • 1/4 cup plain yogurt (I like to use greek, it’s tangy!)
  • 2 large eggs
  • 1/2 cup chopped almonds
  • 1 1/2 cups frozen berries or chopped fruit, loosely measured

Preheat your oven to 500°F. This will make the muffins rise up a lot and have a nice domed top. Don’t worry, you’re going to turn it down when you actually put the muffins in. 

Beat the liquid ingredients together until well combined, then add the bran flakes and stir till they’re mixed in all the way. Let it sit while you whisk together the dry ingredients and prepare your muffin tin. 

Whisk together all the dry ingredients, including the flax, in a large bowl. Then add the fruit and nuts and stir around to coat all the pieces in flour. This helps to keep them all from sinking to the bottom when the muffins bake.

Pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients, and combine just until you don’t see any large streaks of flour left. It’s ok if the batter doesn’t look completely smooth.

Fill the cups of your tin about three-quarters full, maybe a little more. Place muffins in the oven and immediately drop temperature to 400°F. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, or until muffins test done with a toothpick.

Those Neglected Things

December can be rough. It can be busy and lonely and hectic and joyful and forgetful and cold and dark and rainy and bright and sunny and ecstatic all at the same time. Without even trying.

It’s this way for me, at least.

I got into the swing of things and was all full of holiday cheer for the most part, but it meant that some things fell by the wayside. There were posts I started to write that never went anywhere. Pictures I took for posts that will probably never even get started, and post ideas that never got pictures.

There was also the small matter of relicensing my small business, Infamous Pastries. I was *supposed* to do this before the deadline of December 31, or else have to pay an extra fee for doing it late. When I remembered that I still hadn’t done this last night just as I was falling asleep, I wept. The tears were tears of both sadness and relief. 

I’m going to be honest here when I say that I don’t think I am cut out to run a business as a self-starter. I am an incredibly hard working person, and I could run a business probably without many hitches if I’d been going down that path for a while with the same job. But I am not an entrepreneur, it turns out. 

I love what I do. I’m a pastry pro at heart. I love the chemistry, I love flavor, and I love pushing the limits of both. I do pretty good with trial and error. I work incredibly well under pressure and even though I generally dislike working with the public at large I seem to be pretty good at it when it comes to helping brides choose wedding cake flavors, etc. I’m bossy enough to get people to do what they need to do, and nice enough that they still like me later. I love to eat and to share that sweet little something with others. I love baking.

I am also an artist. I have been painting and creating art since I was very small, and I even went to art school for a brief time. Turns out, art school didn’t suit me very well (too commercial for me, ironically) so I came home and found a way to create and express that I never really connected to being creative and expressive before. Through food. I went to pastry school and I loved it. I would go back in a heartbeat.  I love the 3 dimensional aspect of a cake as sculpture, and I love to get the flavors just right, layered they way paint is layered on a canvas. 

But artists are notoriously bad self-starters and have for the most part terrible PR skills. That’s why there are so many artists who make no money doing what they love. And I guess I am doomed to fall into that category for now.

Reflecting back on 2011, it was like December on crack. It was every possible emotion and then some. I started a business and decided subconsciously to let it flounder when I found a way to express myself that matched my lifestyle better and came more naturally (blogging). I watched a baby grow into a little girl and grow even larger in my heart as a result. I fell even more in love with Joe, while still feeling like I was somehow growing apart from him because of the things going on in our lives. 

I hope I haven’t neglected too many other important things this past year that were important, because I had a lot of other things to do. Go for walks in the rain with a toddler, make pies for people I love and laugh out loud at silly things. 

I know that there is one thing for sure I didn’t and then did neglect: these marshmallows. When they were in the house we kept nibbling them before I could even give any away, and I had to hide the rest to stop us from finishing them all up. I finally gave some away, then I forgot about them because there were cookies and tarts and cakes. There are a few still hiding in the back of a cupboard somewhere. 

They are simple to make if you have the right tools and you can add pretty much any flavoring you want, so long as you don’t add too much liquid. I had a girlfriend over to make them and we made three batches, all different flavors. We had a blast, and she was glad to do it with me because “I got her through” chemistry class, or so she claims, and wasn’t sure she would have been able to do it without me. They’re easy to make, but I did give her a lot of info that she wouldn’t have learned just making them out of the book. Don’t be frightened of candy making–it’s not even as hard as just plain living.
Basic Marshmallows
Adapted from The Professional Pastry Chef, by Bo Friberg (best textbook I ever bought)
Makes one 9×12 pan, about 3/4″ thick, or spread into a high sided sheet pan for thinner mallows

You kinda need a candy thermometer for this recipe. It’s not a big deal, I promise. 

Cornstarch or powdered sugar
3 Tbsp (18g) unflavored gelatin powder
1 cup cold water, divided
1 lb granulated sugar
2 ounces light corn syrup
4 egg whites (about 1/2 cup)
optional flavorings

Prepare the pan you will put the finished marshmallows in by lining it with parchment paper and dusting lightly with either the cornstarch or the powdered sugar. 

Sprinkle the gelatin in a wide bottomed metal or glass bowl and pour 1/2 cup cold water over it. Stir it with a chopstick to make sure all the gelatin gets moistened, and set aside to soften. Once it’s all softened, put it over a pan of simmering water so that it gets warm and leave it there until you need it at the end. You need it to return to the liquid state of water, but you don’t want it to be too hot.

Place the egg whites in the bowl of your stand mixer with the whip attachment.

Combine the sugar, corn syrup and remaining 1/2 cup of water in a heavy bottomed saucepan over medium heat. This is where the thermometer comes in handy. You are going to boil the sugar to 245ºF. But wait! Once it reaches about 230ºF, you should turn the mixer on high and start your egg whites. They need to be whipped to stiff peaks. Watch closely because the sugar will get very hot very fast starting now. When it reaches 245ºF, turn off the heat and lower the mixer speed to about medium. Very slowly and in a thin, steady stream down the side of the bowl (not over the whip or the syrup will fly out!) very carefully pour the sugar syrup. Once the egg whites start to look pretty glossy and there is a lot of steam rising out of the bowl, you can pour a little faster but do not just dump it in there or it will not be pretty. (Just take my word for it.) After you’ve got all the syrup in there, and with the mixer still mixing, pour in the gelatin, making sure to scrape out all the last bits of it with a spatula. Mix it for a second and then turn the mixer back to high speed. Let it whip until it’s got a nice fluffy texture and smells amazing. 

Add a little (tsp or so) vanilla or other extract now if you want and whip for a second longer. You can also fold in crushed just about anything, like we did with candy canes in one batch and Daim candies in another. About 1/2-3/4 cup per batch should do you right.

Pour it out into the prepared pan, spread with an offset spatula or the back of a clean spoon and sift more powdered whatever you chose over the top. Let set completely before cutting out of the pan. With a knife dipped in hot water, slice cleanly around the edges of the pan. Invert it onto a cutting board or other clean surface, and cut into desired sizes. You should dip your knife and wipe it on a clean cloth each time you make a new cut, for the best results.

* I made a chai version here, and to do that I steeped 2 chai tea bags in one cup of boiling water and then let it cool before using it in the marshmallows. At the end I added about 1/2 tsp of allspice and 1 tsp of ginger. It was awesome, and they are really amazing in homemade chai lattes. Just saying. 

Your New Fave

Sometimes I have no idea what to make for dinner. Sometimes when I’m planning the menu for the week (Yes, I plan a menu. Or else I would go insane.) I just put “veggies” “salad” “pasta” and then make up the rest later.


This past week I put something like “roasted squash” which could actually just be that. Roasted squash. But we were eating it with pasta so I wanted to jazz it up a bit. (Joe was cooking the pasta, so I figured the other half should be a shining star…no offense Joe.)



I looked around. 


I saw a huge basket of apples and ginger, and thought of the plans for pickling said ginger and making apple pie filling for the freezer.


I saw a bag of walnuts that I pulled out of the freezer with the intention of using them in rugelach for a cookie exchange that I ended up not making it to. 


I saw a glass with a few little branches of rosemary taking a drink, which reminded me to go pick sage out of the garden for the brown butter sauce.


Then, I saw a huge bag of persimmons that I bought that day at Uwajimaya. Unsuspecting persimmons, just hanging out all by themselves in a little persimmon clique over there by the blender.



And I realized, why couldn’t I just roast persimmons instead? They have a similar texture to raw squash, firm and crunchy. They’re sweet but not too sweet. They’re orange. Heck, they’re practically a squash camouflaging as a fruit! 


I decided it might be a little bit much to just roast persimmons and nothing else. After all, the squash might feel left out. So I cut up a little baby butternut that had been loitering on the front porch since I harvested it back in October, and while I was out getting the sage I also nabbed a few little branches of thyme. And I threw in a half dozen or so little shallots that have just been begging to get used up. And I tossed in a big handful of those walnuts, with plenty to spare for rugelach, should I ever get around to it. 



A little drizzle of maple syrup, another of olive oil. A pinch of salt, a grate of nutmeg. Into the oven it went. 



I have to say, I was a little bit skeptical, even though it smelled good. There aren’t too many original savory persimmon recipes out there (not that roasting fruit is original, or all that savory) but I figured it would at least be unique so I went ahead and stole a bite while no one was looking.


No need to worry! It was delicious through and through, and even Joe liked it. Though he did claim that I had “tricked him” into eating persimmons, which are not his favorite thing. I think this might be my new favorite thing though. Next to everything else new I made this week…



I’m thinking this dish might be the perfect thing to cook to go along a roasted chicken (or turkey, or any other type of meat). I’m also thinking it could easily contain sausage of either the meaty or veggie variety and make for a more hearty dish in and of itself. These thoughts lead me to believe that if you are in charge of a holiday meal coming up, or in charge of bringing some sort of delicious and show stopping side dish that will upstage all the other foods on the table…I mean, a humble side dish to delight the senses without overwhelming the other dishes being served, then this might be the one. It practically cooks itself so you will have plenty of time to make rugelach!


Roasted Butternut and Persimmon Medley
serves about 4 as a side


One small Butternut squash, peeled, seeded and cut into chunks
2 medium sized Fuyu persimmons, peeled and cut into 8ths
5-6 small shallots, cut in halves or quarters
2 small branches fresh thyme, leaves removed
1 Tbsp maple syrup
1 Tbsp olive oil
pinch salt
few scrapes of freshly grated nutmeg


Preheat oven to 400ºF


Toss everything together in a small roasting pan, making sure everything is evenly coated. Place dish in oven, closer to the bottom is better. Bake about 40 minutes, stirring every now to get even caramelization. Serve piping hot.