Focaccia saves the day

Labor Day weekend is about when I start seeing Mother Nature yielding to autumn's arrival, even with summer putting up a good fight.  This year, I've seen leaves on the trees starting to turn colors on the undersides of branchings, proud of their colorful petticoats but too shy to show them like Hattie McDaniel's character in Gone With The Wind.

This is also the time of year when things seem to get busy all of a sudden.  Schools start their new year.  Farmers are bring in the last of their summer crops and the first of the autumn crops.  Cooks are carefully planning their seasonal menu changes.  Summer salads phase out and fall soups and stews take their place.

In a restaurant and at home I have found myself wanting for one magical item to tie meals together at this joint in the seasons.  And the one thing I've found to save the day is focaccia.

Focaccia is an Italian flat bread, made with the most basic of bread making ingredients: flour, water, oil, yeast, salt.  It can be served with a salad or a soup for a complete meal.  It can be topped with herbs, or vegetables, cheese, or fruit.  It can be split and used for sandwiches.  And large batches can be made and stored in the fridge or freezer for up to a week to be baked fresh as needed.

If you've never made bread from scratch before, I find focaccia to be a good place to start.  The dough is easy to make if you have a heavy duty mixer with a dough hook (like a Kitchen Aid), and it is a managable dough if you'll be mixing it by hand.  Because it is a flat bread, you don't need to worry about forming a loaf.  And because it is a rustic bread, you don't need to worry about getting it into any particular shape.

My favorite recipe for focaccia comes from The Secrets Of Jesuit Breadmaking by Brother Rick Curry, S.J.  The recipes are easy to follow, and Rick Curry has a wonderful way of telling stories to give the breads context for their history and traditional use.  I started making focaccia regularly when I met him at a conference while I was in college and though I've worked with other bakers and other recipes, I come back to his recipe whenever someone asks me.  Though this recipe is based on his recipe, I've made it my own, as many bakers will.  Feel free to experiment with it and adapt it at your whim by adding in herbs of your favorite kind, or pressing some cut veggies into to dough before baking.


Focaccia (to save the day)

Ingredients for the dough:
1 1/2 tablespoons active dry yeast (or two packages active dry yeast)
1 1/2 cups warm water ( about 100 F)
1 teaspoon sugar
4 cups unbleached all-purpose or bread flour
1/3 cup olive oil
2 teaspoons salt

Optional ingredients for garlic herb focaccia:
1 tablespoon garlic powder (for savory focaccia)
1 teaspoon dried basil
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano

Ingredients for proofing and baking:
olive oil
kosher salt
any topping that strike your fancy

Directions (since Rick Curry describes the by-hand mixing directions in his cookbook, I've described the machine mixing directions here):

In a small mixing bowl or a two cup spouted measing cup, combine yeast, warm water, and sugar.  Stir to dissolve yeast then let sit for about five minutes to allow the yeast to "proof."  Yeast and water mixture should look foamy.  Then add the olive oil.

In the mixing bowl of a Kitchen Aid, combine flour and salt.  Using the hook attachment and the lowest speed, slowly pour in the liquid mixture.  Continue mixing until a loose dough is formed (about 60 seconds after all the liquid is poured in).  Removed the hook, letting it rest in the bowl, and cover with plastic wrap.  Let sit in a warm place for 20-30 minutes.  (This step of resting the dough is known as autolyze.)

After the dough has autolyzed, remove the plastic wrap and return the hook and bowl to the mixer.  Add remaining optional ingredients if desired for a savory garlic and herb dough.  Mix the dough on a medium speed for 6-8 minutes until the dough is smooth and elastic (sprinkle a little dough along the sides of the bowl after 2 minutes of mixing if the dough is wet and still sticking to the sides of the bowl).

When the dough is ready, place a few tablespoons of olive oil in a clean large bowl or stock pot.  Place the dough in the bowl and turn it so the olive oil coats it on all sides.  Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or the stock pot with its lid and let it sit undisturbed in a warm, draft-free place until the dough doubles in size (1 - 2 hours).

Once the dough has risen, turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface large enough to roll out the dough.  Roll the dough out until it is about 1/2 inch thick and lay it out onto a baking sheet lightly greased with olive oil.  (It is more important the dough be rolled to 1/2 inch thick than that all the dough fit on one baking sheet.  Use additional baking sheets if yours are too small for all the dough to fit when rolled out to 1/2 inch thick).  Cover the baking sheet with a clean tea towel or other thin kitchen towel and let the dough rise again until it doubles in bulk (about 30 minutes).

Preheat your oven to 425F as soon as you've covered the baking sheets and your oven should be ready at about the same time your dough is.

When the dough has doubled in bulk, remove the towel.  Use a fork to prick all over the surface of the dough then drizzle or brush the dough with additional olive oil and a sprinkling of salt.  Place in the oven and bake for 10 minutes.

Reduce the heat to 375 F.  At this point, you can remove the pans from the oven and top with additional ingredients if desired (sauteed onion, roasted garlic, sliced cherry tomatoes, grilled summer squash, shredded hard cheese like Romano or Asiago, etc). Bake at 375F for an additional 20-30 minutes until the edges of the focaccia are nicely browned and the center is cooked all the way through.

Remove focaccia from baking pan and let cool on a rack for at least 20 minutes before cutting and serving.

The Elusive Green Enchiladas

Once upon a time, in the youth of my siblings but not in my own, there was a delicious though not-often-made dish known as "Green Enchiladas."  They were creamy and cheesy and chicken-y and a little bit spicy, and the green came from cooked spinach.  To hear any one of my siblings talk of it, it seemed a legendary culinary delight.

But, for the longest time, no one had the recipe.

We called our mom, who remembered making it, but who did not have the recipe.  She seemed to recall that perhaps it was a recipe someone gave to her, or that she got out of a magazine or newspaper.

A search commenced with the help of Google and a variety of recipe and food websites to no avail (this was in the early 2000's).  Attempts at replication resulted in less than desired results.

Several years later, when Mom was having the kitchen renovated and she had to box up some of her old cookbook books, the recipe for Green Enchiladas appeared.

The "Original" Green Enchiladas

1 package frozen spinach, thawed and drained

1 can Campbell's Condensed Cream of Mushroom Soup

1 cup sour cream

1 can diced jalapenos, with juice

12-14 small corn or flour tortillas

2 cups cooked chicken, shredded

1 pound Monterey jack cheese, shredded

The recipe was simple enough: make a sauce by mixing the first four ingredients.  Fill the tortillas with the chicken and some cheese.  Place in a casserole dish, top with the sauce and remaining cheese, bake until the cheese melts.

But the idea of condensed cream of mushroom soup makes me a little queasy, as it does most of my sisters, too.  One of us made the dish almost immediately for the sake of nostalgia.  It didn't turn out to be as good as the memory of the way it tasted long ago.

And so commenced several independent rounds of  The Great Green Enchilada Redux.  Less scary versions of cream of mushroom soup were found at Whole Foods and Trader Joes.  Attempts were also made at a bechamel with sauteed mushrooms, which turned out very well but was somewhat more time consuming than  my sisters (all working moms) had patience for.  Fresh versus frozen spinach was tried, without discernible difference in this recipe.  Additions of onions, and garlic, and some spices were all considered and tried.  Pepper jack was sometimes used to add more spiciness.  Yogurt was substituted for sour cream.  Sour cream was added to the chicken and cheese mixture to make it come together better.

After years of elusiveness, there's finally a green enchilada recipe that I get excited about.  Enjoy.

The Elusive Green Enchiladas

1 pound mushrooms, thinly sliced

3 tablespoons olive oil

4 cloves garlic, crushed

1 ounce sherry

2 pound frozen spinach, thawed and drained

1 small can diced green chilies or jalapenos, with juice

32 oz plain yogurt (not Greek style)

4 green onions, thinly sliced (white parts only)

3 tablespoons olive oil

1 large onion, chopped

1 tablespoon ground cumin

1 pound chicken, cooked and shredded

1/4 cup water

2 pounds grated Monterey jack or sharp white cheddar cheese

Salt to taste

about 20 small corn tortillas

1.  For the sauce:  In a large, dry saute pan, cook sliced mushrooms in a single layer over high heat until they start to brown. Do not crowd the mushrooms, or they will steam and get soggy.  Do not stir unless needed to achieve even browning.  You may need to cook mushrooms in two batches, depending on how big your pan is.  When mushrooms are well browned, reduce heat to medium and add olive oil and crushed garlic. Stir well and add salt.  Continue cooking until garlic is fragrant but not yet browned, 1-3 minutes. Add sherry, stirring quickly to combine, then remove from heat.  Set aside and allow to cool, then add spinach, chilies or jalapenos, yogurt, and sliced green onions.  Mix well to combine, then set aside.

2.  For the filling: In a large saute pan, cook chopped onion in olive oil over medium heat.  Salt to release the liquid in the onion and stir, cooking until the onion is soft and translucent, about 3-5 minutes.  Add the cumin and stir well to combine.  Add the chicken and the water, increase the heat to high, and continue cooking until all of the water has evaporated, stirring well to combine.  Remove from heat and add one cup of the spinach sauce mixture, stirring well to combine.  Set aside to cool.  Add about one third of the shredded cheese, mixing well to combine.

Note:  These two steps can be done a day ahead.  Sauce and filling mixtures can be covered and refrigerated overnight.  If you do this, stir both mixtures well and allow to come to room temperature for about an hour before assembling.  Final baking time may increase by about 10 minutes due to the use of colder ingredients.

3.  Preheat oven to 350F.  Grease the bottom of a 9 x 13 glass baking dish.

4.  To assemble:  a corn tortilla in a small pan over medium heat until it is pliable.  Place filling in the middle, roll, and place in baking dish with the seam side down.  Repeat to fill the pan, spacing them evenly.  Pour sauce evenly over the top, then spread cheese in an even layer to cover. 

5.  Bake, uncovered, at 350F until cheese is melted and enchiladas are heated through, about 25 - 30 minutes. Let cool about 5 minutes before serving.

Leftovers keep well refrigerated.

The Pumpkin Apple Cake Experience, for Ms. Short

Sometimes, a good cake just happens.

I have a recipe for a Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Cake that has been made in my family for about twenty-five years.  It is a simple recipe - canned pumpkin, chocolate chips, flour, sugar, eggs, oil, leavening and salt.  It usually gets made in November, if not for Thanksgiving, then for my sister's birthday.  The batter is made in one bowl, baked in a bundt pan, and is delicious as a dessert, a breakfast cake, or with tea in the afternoon.  I sometimes wonder why I don't make it more often.

I've tinkered with my preferred version over the years - adding fresh grated ginger and some spices, trying mini chocolate chips or chopped chocolate in lieu of the average Nestle Toll House Morsel, baking it as a layer cake or cupcakes.  But the tinkering has been mostly intentional.

Until this Thanksgiving.

I celebrated Thanksgiving this year in Atlanta.  When I arrived, I found out the agenda included having a group of friends over for Bacon Pancakes (call them "Man-Cakes") with Beer-Maple Syrup -  a recipe I had sent to my sister months before, enthusiastically wishing to make them on my next trip to visit.  And while I was excited to make and eat them, I worried that word would get out about these fantastic Man-Cakes, and we'd run out of food.  What to do?

Make a Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Cake!

I knew there were a few extra cans of pumpkin in the pantry, so I started throwing ingredients into a mixing bowl - eggs, oil, sugar, pumpkin.  Stir, stir, stir.  Flour, leavening, ginger, spices, salt...um, where are the chocolate chips?

In my house, I always have two or three bags of chocolate chips on hand.  If I use a bag, it usually gets replaced within 24 hours.  I don't run out of chocolate chips like most people don't run out of toilet paper.

Which, I realized, is not the case in all households.

So there I was, with most of the batter for a Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Cake, and no chocolate chips.

Time to improvise.

Now, you might think that omitting something like chocolate chips from a cake recipe wouldn't make a big difference.  But consider this - a bag of chocolate chips is twelve ounces.  That's three-quarters of a pound.  That's significant when it comes to volume in a bundt pan.  And who knew how many people were showing up for breakfast?  Twelve ounces could be three or four more servings!  Time to improvise.

The day before I had made a Tarte Tatin, and there were several apples left in the fruit bowl.  Remembering that my mom sometimes substituted applesauce for the oil, I decided it was a reasonable gamble.  I grabbed a peeler and got to work.

I decided that grated apple might work better than chopped apple, not only because chopped apple might fall to the bottom of the batter during baking, but also because it would take less time to grate than chop the apples.  And I could grate the apples right into the batter bowl.

Four Fujis later, the batter was in the pan and the pan was in the oven.

And the results were tremendous.  The cake was more moist than I had ever remembered it.  And it had a sweet-tangy taste that worked very well with the ginger and spices.

The next day, the cake wasn't really needed.  There were plenty of pancakes, and syrup, and bacon.  And though our merry band noshed on some of the cake, most of it stayed quietly on the counter.

Enter Ms. Short.  Short is not a foodie.  She does not swoon over food.  And when she comes over for a meal, it's not so much about the food as the company.  That's one of the things I really like about Short.  So when she came in, had a little bite of cake and exclaimed, "oh my!  What is this?  It's the best thing I've ever put in my mouth!", I knew the new cake variation was a winner.

And so, Ms. Short, here is the recipe.  I know you don't cook or (heaven forbid) bake, so I made two cakes and left them for you in my sister's freezer.  Enjoy them, my friend.  And have a very Merry Christmas.

Pumpkin Apple Cake 

4 large eggs

3 cups sugar

3/4 cup vegetable oil

1 can (15 oz) canned pumpkin

2 or 3 tbsp finely grated fresh ginger root

About 2 cups grated fresh apple (Fuji, Gala, Honeycrisp, or similar)

3 cups all-purpose flour

2 teaspoons baking powder

2 teaspoons baking soda

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

any other spices you like, optional

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.  Grease and flour one bundt pan or two large loaf pans.

In a large mixing bowl, combine eggs and sugar.  Whisk until well blended.  Add oil and pumpkin.  Whisk again until well blended.  Add ginger root and grated apple.  Mix with a rubber spatula until well blended.  Add remaining ingredients.  Gently fold the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, scraping the sides of the bowl often, until batter is fully incorporated.  Pour batter into prepared pans.  Place pans in preheated 350 degree F oven.

Bake bundt for 50 - 60 minutes.  Bake loaves for 35 - 45 minutes.  Cakes are done when the edges start to pull away from the sides of the pan and a toothpick inserted into the midpoint of the cake is removed without any wet batter.

Cool cake for at least 30 minutes before removing from pan.  Allow cakes to cool completely on a wire rack.  Cake can be wrapped and refrigerated for up to a week, or wrapped and frozen for up to two months.  

This cake tastes best when baked about  12 - 24 hours before it is served.

Bake bundt pan for about 

 

Lamenting the End of Salads of Summer

The only salad that was seen at the dinner table in my Midwestern childhood was that of chopped iceberg lettuce with wedged beefsteak tomatoes. Occasionally, a sliced cucumber would make an appearance. Bottled salad dressing - usually French or Italian - stood to the side of the salad bowl. Summer picnics and potlucks and barbecues exposed me to a greater variety of Midwest backyard salads: pasta salads, potato salads, coleslaw. These were the salads of my earliest memories.

As I grew up, and my palate developed, I came to love summer specifically for the variety of salads that fresh summer produce would bring. Nothing beats fresh tomatoes, right off the vine, sliced and tossed with a little olive oil, arugula and salt. Or sliced radishes with chunks of avocado and Bibb lettuce with a citrus vinaigrette. Or fresh corn and mango with red onion and baby spinach.

Oh, Summer, you were so good to me this year. I will miss you.

As the culinary season segues into autumn, many people have requested suggestions for a good fall salad. This weekend, much of the Midwest, East Coast, and parts of the South will experience the first hard frost of the season. Although lettuces and tomatoes and other produce will still be shipped from warmer climes to your local grocery store, summer salads will seem out of place on the table (unless you live in those warmer climes).

I submit, for your consideration, this humble little Wild Rice Salad. It is basically cooked wild rice tossed with a vinaigrette and some other tasty bits to make it interesting. Rice salads are perfect as a side dish for fish or meat. This recipe happens to also be vegan and gluten-free.

You can use any kind of wild rice (or brown rice) that is available to you. My preference is a medium grain purple rice, which has a slight nutty sweetness, a firm texture, and a lovely color. Because not all wild rices have the same cooking instructions or yield, the quantity listed in the recipe is of already cooked rice. Luckily, this is a loosey-goosey salad when it comes to measurements. If you end up cooking more rice than is called for, you can throw it in and just make a little more vinaigrette. Use a much larger bowl (I use a stock pot) than you think you will need to mix this salad together. It is very important that everything is well blended. Hold the salad in the larger bowl/pot so you can toss it again just before serving, as some of the vinaigrette will likely pool to the bottom.

Wild Rice Salad

(for quick pickled onions and carrots)

1 small red onion, diced fine

1/2 cup carrot, diced fine

1/2 cup apple cider vinegar

2 tbsp sugar

1 tsp salt

1 tsp ground cumin

(for vinaigrette)

1 tbsp Dijon or brown mustard

3 cloves garlic, crushed or minced

1 tbsp sugar

2 tbsp cumin

1/4 cup fresh orange juice

1/4 cup balsamic vinegar

1/2 cup olive oil

salt, fresh cracked pepper, and orange zest to taste

4 cups cooked wild rice (freshly cooked is best)

1/4 cup sliced green onion

2/3 cup golden raisins or currants

1 red or yellow bell pepper, diced fine

1/2 cup fresh parsley or cilantro, chopped

1/3 cup toasted chopped pecans or walnuts (optional)

To make the quick pickled onions and carrots:

In a small pot, heat apple cider vinegar, sugar and salt together until sugar and salt are completely dissolved. Remove from heat. Add onion, carrot, and cumin, stirring very well until everything is combined. Let pickle for at least 2 hours and up to 2 days.

To make the vinaigrette:

Combine mustard, garlic, cumin and sugar in a large bowl, whisking well to combine. Add orange juice and vinegar and mix well to combine. Using a whisk or an immersion blender, add oil in a slow stream, whisking/mixing constantly to achieve emulsification. Add salt, pepper and orange zest to taste.

To assemble the salad:

In a very large mixing bowl or stock pot, pour vinaigrette over the rice and mix very well to combine. Add pickled vegetables and their juice, mixing well to combine, then let sit at room temperature for at least an hour, or refrigerate over night, so the flavors can marry.

Before serving, bring salad to room temperature. Mix very well to ensure that vinaigrette is evenly distributed. Then toss in remaining ingredients until well combined. Adjust seasonings and serve at room temperature.

Salsa Happens

The word "salsa," in Spanish, means "sauce." It is derived from the Latin word "salsus," meaning "salty." Generally thought to be a savory, saucy condiment, salsa can take on many forms.

This past weekend, at a 3rd of July party, I found myself in the kitchen with some extraneous produce: avocados, mangos, tomatoes, a few ears of corn. What happened next? Salsa.

3rd of July Salsa

2 champagne or honey mangos

2 ripe but firm avocados

2 medium tomatoes

2 ears of sweet corn

juice of one lime

white wine vinegar

salt (non-iodized)

Cut the flesh of the mangos and avocados into pieces about as big as a kernel of corn. Slice the tomatoes into slightly larger pieces, removing and discarding the seeds as you go. Cut corn off the cob. Combine in a mixing bowl and mix well. Add the juice of one lime, mixing gently to combine. Taste and correct the seasoning with salt and white wine vinegar. Serve immediately as a side for grilled chicken or fish, on fresh tacos, or with tortilla chips.

Making Dinner "Out of Scratch"

I believe that everybody has a special skill that makes them unique in all the world. A skill that makes them a superhero to someone. A skill that can seem like magic.

My special skill is making dinner "out of scratch."

I am very lucky to live close enough to one of my sisters that I can stop by and hang out with her and her lovely children on any given warmer-than-usual, late February, Thursday afternoon--such as today. Her husband was working late, and my sister was working on costumes for a production of Annie which both of my nieces are in next month. She asked me if I wanted to stay for dinner.

"Sure," I replied. "What are we having?"

"I have absolutely no idea!" she exclaimed with more exasperation than seemed necessary.

But then I opened her fridge.

She had milk and butter and eggs and cheese. And seltzer water. And quite a few condiments. Not much else.

Hmmmm.

That's when I decided it was time to pull out my special skill set and take charge in the kitchen.

It started with biscuits. My grandmother always made biscuits, and some of my favorite memories of big family holiday meals were of eating her biscuits. I'm sure lots of other food was on the table, but to me, the biscuits were the meal. If there are biscuits, there is dinner.

Flour, baking powder, spices, salt, butter, cheese, egg, milk: everything I needed was there in my sister's kitchen. In the fifteen minutes it took to preheat the oven to 400 degrees F, the dough was made and ready for the oven.

In the twenty minutes it took to bake the biscuits, I found some salmon fillets and asparagus in the freezer.

And just as the biscuits were coming out of the oven, there was pan roasted wild salmon with lemon butter and fresh cracked pepper, roasted asparagus, and two rogue sausages for my youngest niece, who has not yet developed a taste for fish.

As we sat down to dinner, my niece's eyes were wide with wonder, as if she was experiencing some deep, mystical magic. "Wow," she breathed, "did you make these out of scratch?"

"Yes, Michele, I sure did."

This recipe is not my grandmother's. I only have one of her biscuit recipes written down--one for "Angel Biscuits" which call for yeast and baking powder. She used to make them at her church for their weekly suppers, but that is another story.

This recipe is for cheesy garlic biscuits, which I first started making with my youngest sister when we were both living in the Pacific Northwest many many moons ago. It is best to buy block cheese and grate it yourself (as packaged grated cheese are coated with an anti-caking agent which prevents it from melting properly; it also doesn't taste as good). I like to vary this recipe by throwing in a variety of fresh herbs when I can, and switching up the cheeses. But here is the recipe as I made it last night.

Cheesy Garlic Biscuits "Out of Scratch"

2 cups all purpose flour
1 tbsp baking powder
1 tbsp white sugar
1 tsp salt (non-iodized)
1 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp fresh cracked black pepper
1 stick (8 tbsp) butter, cut into 16 equal sized pieces
1/2 cup finely shredded yellow cheddar cheese
1/2 cup finely shredded sharp white cheddar cheese
1/2 cup finely shredded mozzarella cheese
1 large egg, lightly beaten
3/4 cup whole milk

Preheat oven to 400 F

1. In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, baking powder, sugar, salt, garlic powder and pepper. Mix well to combine.

2. Rub in the butter with your fingers until well incorporated. There should be small pieces about the size of a flake of oatmeal, and larger pieces about the size of a pea. This is as it should be.

3. Add the shredded cheeses. Using a fork, gently toss the cheese into the flour mixture until well incorporated.

4. In a separate small bowl, combine the egg and milk and whisk well.

5. Make a well in the middle of the flour mixture. Pour in the milk mixture. Using a fork, lightly stir just until the dough holds together.

6. Lightly grease a baking sheet. Using a spoon, drop the dough into 12 equal sized biscuits (about a scant 1/4 cup each), leaving space between them on the baking sheet. Lightly brush the tops with melted butter, or lightly spray with non-stick cooking spray.

7. Bake in preheated 400 F oven until they smell delicious and are lightly golden, about 20 minutes.

My Best Scrambled Eggs

I learned how to scramble eggs when I was seven years old. My dad taught me how to beat the eggs with salt and cream, and cook them up with an obscene amount of butter in an electric skillet. They were quite tasty.

Over the years I've cooked many an egg, and have finessed my own personal method of how to scramble an egg. Truth be told, I prefer my eggs to be scrambled, but I rarely order them that way when I eat out. I like my scrambled eggs--soft with an almost creamy consistency, salty and buttery but not too heavy.

I spent Christmas with family--all of them very discerning with their food preferences. One of my sisters swears she hates eggs, but she'll eat my scrambled eggs every time I make them. I whipped up a large batch of scrambled eggs on Christmas morning. My mom marveled at them and said, "These are the best scrambled eggs I've ever eaten. What did you put into them?" My answer, which was the simple truth of the matter: "Butter and love."

I hesitate to describe my method of cooking scrambled eggs for the simple reason that the debate over how to "properly" cook an egg has a long and tempestuous history among culinary professionals and enthusiasts. I flatly refuse to engage in any conversation that argues the points of egg cookery (the only exception to date being a humorous and informative exchange of information on the topic with Harold McGee). Lifetime grudges have ensued from passionate disagreements between chefs on this topic. Battle lines have been drawn in kitchens on this point. It isn't pretty.

And so I put forth this method not as *The* best method, but as *My* best method to make scrambled eggs--the eggs I enjoy cooking, and eating, and serving to family and friends. I do this for my Mama, who called me this morning and asked me to walk her through making scrambled eggs, which I did. And just so you can make them again, Mom, here you go.

My Best Scrambled Eggs

2 large eggs at room temperature*

3-finger pinch of kosher salt (NOT iodized)

a bowl big enough to beat the eggs in (one that holds at least 2 cups)

a fork to beat the eggs

1 tbsp butter

love

7" or 8" non-stick frying pan

rubber scraper spatula

a plate to remove the eggs to when they are done cooking

a fork (different from the one above) with which to eat the eggs

It is very important to have all of the things listed ready to go before you start cooking. Making scrambled eggs is a very time sensitive business. If you don't have a plate ready to remove the eggs when they are done cooking, you will have overcooked eggs, which are not my best scrambled eggs. On this point I can not be too emphatic of the importance.

*If you keep your eggs in the refrigerator, take two out before you go to bed and let them sit at room temperature overnight. Don't let the FDA or USDA scare you--eggs in their uncracked shell keep quite well for a few weeks at cool room temperature (68F to 73F). If you are uncomfortable with the idea of leaving your eggs out, you can bring them up to temperature by placing the eggs (in their shells) in a bowl that holds at least 6 cups, then running hot tap water (up to 120F--any hotter and you may scald yourself) into the bowl and letting the eggs sit for 5-10 minutes.

To see if the egg has warmed up sufficiently, hold it in the palm of your hand and gently cup in with your fingers for about 20-30 seconds. If you can discern the egg shell becoming cooler in that time, the inside of the egg has not sufficiently warmed up. Return to the hot water bath, refreshing with more hot water if necessary, until the egg held in your hand feels at least as warm as room temperature.

Once your eggs are ready, and you have assembled all of the above ingredients and equipment, you are about three minutes away from having scrambled eggs ready to eat. If you attempt this method, I would suggest you try it exactly as written just for the first time. The directions are written in a very specific order for purposes of timing. You will find that once the eggs hit the pan, they will be cooked enough to remove to the plate in a little less than a minute. If you move steps around or don't have ingredients/equipment ready, the eggs may overcook and become rubbery.

First, crack the eggs into a bowl big enough to beat them in (one that holds at least two cups). Discard the egg shells.

Place the skillet over medium high heat.

Add a three-finger pinch of kosher salt to the eggs. (A "three-finger pinch" employs your thumb, index and middle fingers. Reach into a container of kosher salt and "pinch" with those three fingers. What you get goes right into the egg bowl). Beat well with a fork until salt is well mixed, and yolks and whites are well blended. This should take you about 30-45 seconds.

Set the bowl aside and test your pan. If you hold your hand flat and bring it to about one inch above the bottom of the pan, it should feel extremely warm but not uncomfortably hot. When the butter goes into the pan you want it to melt but not sizzle; It should definitely not brown. To take out a little insurance, you can get your hand wet from the faucet and shake a few drops into the skillet. The should land in the pan and sort of simmer. If they turn immediately to steam, you have heated your skillet too long.

So add the butter to the pan when the skillet is ready. Let the butter melt and tilt the pan so the butter spread around to coat the bottom of the pan. Once the butter has must melted, pour the eggs into the pan.

The eggs should begin to set very quickly, within 5-10 seconds. Using the flat side of rubber scraper spatula, gently pull the cooked part of the egg away from the side of the skillet and toward the center of the pan, letting the still liquidy uncooked part of the eggs slide beneath the cooked part to the bottom of the pan. Do this at the 10 o'clock, 2 o'clock, 4 o'clock and 8 o'clock points of the pan, working quickly (it should take you no more than 15 seconds). Then remove the pan from the heat source. (Yes, you read that right. The carry over heat from the pan and in the eggs will continue to cook them).

Continue stirring the eggs, folding them over if necessary. Cook them until they still look a little moist then transfer them to a plate. (Yes, you read that right. If you wait until the eggs look cooked in the pan, they will be overcooked and rubbery on the plate. If you've done it the way I do it, the eggs will have been in the pan for about 60 seconds.)

If you think you might want toast with your eggs, put the bread in the toaster before you start the egg making process. When you get to the part where you crack the eggs, start the toaster. The toast will be ready for buttering when you plate the eggs, and the minute it takes to butter the toast will allow the eggs to "coast" to the perfect temperature and doneness.

Et voilà! My best scrambled eggs. Can you taste the love?

Bacon and Cake as Fast as You Can!

My four year old niece, Emily, has said some of the most fantastic things.

Last week she asked me to make her some breakfast.

"What would you like me to make you, my dear?" I asked.

Without hesitation she exclaimed, "your special eggs with butter and love!"

I melted, quicker than butter in a hot skillet. Then I opened the fridge and pulled out the eggs.

Emily is also the one who came up with my favorite version of pat-a-cake.

Pat-a-cake! Pat-a-cake! Bacon man!
Bacon and cake as fast as you can!

Emergency Brownies, for when Mercury Retrogrades

Yesterday was an odd day.

It took me three hours to upload some photos from my digital camera (which usually takes about three minutes). I burned the bacon.l My friend Erin's power went out. My brother-in-law took the waffle maker out of the cabinet and it promptly fell apart right in his hands.

And then I heard someone say, "Mercury is headed to retrograde."

I'm not saying I believe that's why it was such an odd day, but I am saying that the world as we know it stretches far beyond my kitchen, and many, many things are beyond my control.

But some things are not beyond my control.

Like making brownies.

And in case of emergencies such as the occasional everything-seems-to-be-going-wrong day, it is nice to have an ace in the hole.

My ace in the hole...these chocolate brownies.

This recipe uses ingredients that are most likely in your kitchen right now. They are easy, delicious, and practically foolproof.

Even when Mercury is retrograde.

Emergency Chocolate Brownies

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

Cut up one stick (1/2 cup) butter and melt it in a medium saucepan over medium heat. Remove from heat before butter starts to foam. Off heat, add 1-1/4 cups sugar and mix well with a spatula or wooden spoon. Add 2 eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Add 1/2 tsp kosher salt, 1/3 cup cocoa powder, 1/3 cup all purpose flour, and 1/8 tsp baking powder. Fold gently until combined.

Pour batter into a lightly greased 8"x8" square pan. Place pan into preheated oven, then reduce heat to 330 degrees F. Bake 30-35 minutes (do not overbake!). Remove from oven and cover loosely with aluminum foil and allow to cool at least 30 minutes before cutting.

Roasted Kale, for Elizabeth

This story begins with a tale of two children.

One child is picky to a fault, mostly because her father is picky. He turns his nose up at new foods. He is incredibly vocal about the foods he does not like. "Ewwww! This is terrible!" he exclaimed last Thanksgiving. "What's in this stuffing?" It was made from scratch, rather than from the Stove Top box. He did not like it AT ALL. He let everyone know. Right there at the dinner table. I felt very embarrassed for him, and very sad for his in-laws who made the dinner.

But most of all I felt sad for his daughter. She adores her father and wants desperately to please him. And so, without even trying the stuffing, she exclaimed, "ewww! That's gross!"

She misses out on lots of tasty things.

A food educator I know teaches a great phrase to the kids in her program: "Don't yuck my yum!" I hope some day this young girl is smart enough and brave enough to say that to her dad.

The second child eats just about everything. Her mom is a vegetarian and her dad is not. This little girl eats cucumbers and avocados and tofu and kiwi as eagerly as hot dogs and pancakes and pizza. And she is very open trying new foods.

I think a big part of this little girl's delight in tasting and eating new foods is the openness of her parents to eating a variety of different foods.

So when I mentioned making roasted kale for dinner one night and her mom asked me how to make it, I promised I'd post it on the blog.

This roasted kale is one of my favorite things. I got the recipe from a vegetarian friend who lives in Gloucester, MA. She tears the kale into bite size pieces before roasting and calls it "kale chips," eating it instead of popcorn on movie nights. Her 3 year old son LOVES it. I hope you like it, too!

Roasted Kale

Ingredients:


Fresh kale (younger/smaller leaves are better)
Olive oil
Fine salt (not iodized)


Method:

1) Preheat oven to 375 degrees F.

2) Tear kale leaves off of stems (tear into bite sized pieces if you want kale chips). Discard or compost stems. Wash leaves, then dry well in a salad spinner or with a tea towel.

3) Place kale on a baking sheet with a raised edge (use about one baking sheet per bunch of kale). Drizzle lightly with oil, then toss gently by hand to evenly distribute the oil. Sprinkle lightly with fine salt to your taste.

4) Place in preheated oven for 10-15 minutes until kale is crisp and edges just begin to brown, stirring the kale at least once during roasting (tongs work well). If you are roasting more than one pan, you may need to rotate the pans after about 6-8 minutes. (Younger, more tender kale roasts quicker than older, thicker kale--adjust cooking times accordingly.)

5) Remove from oven and serve hot. Kale will stay crisp for about an hour if you want to enjoy it instead of popcorn on movie night.

Sunday Pot Roast

After enduring the longest, coldest, snowiest winter of my life, I finally made it back to Boston to visit my best friend.

The morning after I arrived, I woke up to snow. Snow falling. Snowy snow. Snow.

It didn't last long, and didn't stay long--just snowy snow for the day.

And snow makes me think of comfort food.

Today it made me think of Pot Roast.

I love making a good pot roast, but I rarely get to. There's no real point in making a pot roast just for myself.

So I offered to make on today for Sunday supper with my friend and her family.

Over the years, I've gotten to try many variations on pot roast. I've tried slow cooker pot roast, and low fat pot roast, and hurry-up pot roast.

But the recipe I like best is the one I made today. It is in the oven right now. Here is the recipe.

Sunday Supper Pot Roast

Ingredients:

bacon drippings

3 1/2 lb top round beef roast, patted dry and seasoned with salt and pepper

1 lb pearl onions, peeled

5 cloves garlic, peeled

3-4 large carrots, peeled and cut into 2" pieces

2 stalks celery

3 tbsp flour

1 cup red wine

3 tbsp tomato paste

2 bay leaves

fresh thyme

2-3 cups beef stock

1 lb small red skin potatoes

bacon drippings

2-3 yellow onions, chopped

1 lb button or brown mushrooms, quartered

Preparation:

1) Preheat oven to 350 F.

2) In a large dutch oven, heat several tablespoons of bacon drippings over medium high heat. Sear the roast on all sides, about 2-3 minutes per side. Remove roast from pan and set aside.

3) Cook pearl onions in dutch oven over medium high heat, swirling the pan as needed, until they begin to brown. Add carrots, celery, and garlic and continue to cook, swirling the pan as needed, until they brown, about three minutes.

4) Sprinkle vegetables with flour and stir to coat. Reduce heat to medium and continue to cook until flour begins to brown.

5) Add red wine and return to medium high heat. Stir to combine well. Bring liquid to a boil, then add tomato paste, thyme and bay leaf. Cook until mixture begins to thicken, about 2 minutes.

6) Return roast to dutch oven. Add beef broth and return to boil. Place potatoes around sides of roast. Cover and continue to cook in 350 F oven for about 2 hours.

7) About 30 minutes before roast is finished, saute chopped onions in a large pan until they are nicely browned. Deglaze pan with beef broth and add thyme. Simmer about 5 minutes, then remove from pan.

8) Return pan to stove and brown mushrooms in bacon drippings. Return onions to pan and heat through.

9) Remove roast from oven. Place mushrooms and onions on top of roast and let rest about 15 minutes before cutting and serving.

Pie Crust Promises

Dear Vanessa,

Last November, I promised to make you a pumpkin pie. You love pumpkin pie.

November would have been a perfect month for it. But we had chocolate chip pumpkin cake for you birthday, and went to Uncle Bob's for Thanksgiving.

December came and went in a whirl.

Mother Nature covered us in snow in January and February.

And now here we are in March.

And still, no pumpkin pie.

I was going to make you a pumpkin pie today. I had all the ingredients assembled. But it was sunny and lovely outside. And it is the first day of Spring.

Alas, still no pie.

Mary Poppins warned of "pie crust promises"--easily made; easily broken. (And she didn't mention they are usually tasty promises, too.)

So my promise sits on the shelf, with the can of pumkin waiting to be a pie. Perhaps tomorrow.

Until then, here is the recipe I intend to use. It is adapted from my good old pal, Jim Beard. That man loved some pie.

I promise you'll like it, too. Soon.

Pumpkin Pie, as promised

Makes one 9" deep dish pie

Preheat oven to 350 F.

Ingredients:

2 cups cooked or canned pumpkin

1 cup dark brown sugar

2 cups half and half (slightly warmed or at room temperature)

5 eggs (at room temperature)

2 tbsp finely grated fresh ginger

2 tsp cinnamon

1/4 tsp ground cloves

1/2 tsp salt

1-9" deep dish pie pan with gingersnap cookie crust*

Method:

1) Combine all filling ingredients in a large mixing bowl. Beat well by hand or on low to medium speed with a mixer until well combined.

2) Pour filling into prepared pie crust. Let sit for 10-15 minutes. Tap out any bubbles that may rise to the top.

3) Bake in a preheated 350 F oven for about 45-50 minutes, until the filling around the edges is set, but it is still a little loose in the middle.

4) Cool on a wire rack to room temperature--at least 2 hours.

5) Serve warm or chilled. Delightful with whipped cream.

*To make gingersnap cookie crust, crush about 8 oz of gingersnap cookies with a rolling pin, food processor or blender. Place in a mixing bowl and add enough melted butter to bind. Press inCto a 9" deep dish pie pan. Chill for 15 minutes before pouring in filling and baking.

New York Times Article: The Femivore's Dilemma

Peggy Orenstein wrote this article, posted on the New York Times online on March 11, 2010. It is worth the few minutes it takes to read. Here is a taste:


"Femivorism is grounded in the very principles of self-sufficiency, autonomy and personal fulfillment that drove women into the work force in the first place. Given how conscious (not to say obsessive) everyone has become about the source of their food — who these days can’t wax poetic about compost? — it also confers instant legitimacy. Rather than embodying the limits of one movement, femivores expand those of another: feeding their families clean, flavorful food; reducing their carbon footprints; producing sustainably instead of consuming rampantly. What could be more vital, more gratifying, more morally defensible?....Femivores suggest that knowing how to feed and clothe yourself regardless of circumstance, to turn paucity into plenty, is an equal — possibly greater — safety net. After all, who is better equipped to weather this economy, the high-earning woman who loses her job or the frugal homemaker who can count her chickens?"

FDA Recall--Flavoring Ingredient "HVP"

The United States Food and Drug Administration has issued a recall for products containing a common flavor enhancer--hydrolized vegetable protein, or HVP--manufactured and distributed by Basic Food Flavors, Inc. According to a press release dated March 4, 2010, HVP "is a common ingredient used most frequently as a flavor enhancer in many processed foods, including soups, sauces, chilis, stews, hot dogs, gravies, seasoned snack foods, dips and dressings."

An updated listing of recalled products can be viewed here on the FDA website.

This New York Times article dated March 4, 2010, refers to the recall as low risk with regard to public health and safety, but offers this recall as an example of the vulnerabilities of the current food safety system.

Dining Etiquette--When To Write, But Not Blog

This month, I had the worst fine dining experience of my life to date. The food that was edible was submediocre. The service was sloppy with hints of apathy. It was so bad, I went back again later that week, just to make sure I wasn't being punked. The second meal was worse than the first.

But you won't read details about it here.

I did spend some quality time reflecting on the experience, and typed up over nine pages recounting the the poor quality of the food, a long list of major points missed by the wait staff, and two or three "positive points" of which I had taken note (I'm a "silver lining" kind of person).

That little writing exercise was more about my venting than about reporting a dining experience, and it served its purpose. After writing it, I felt much better. But when I see writing of that type on a blog or a public comment site, I tend to discredit the writer rather than the restaurant. It is the written equivalent of a person making scene at a restaurant--yelling and carrying on because the soup wasn't hot, or the server forgot to bring more bread. The one making the scene like a child throwing a temper tantrum looks like the fool, even if everyone else in the restaurant noted that the soup wasn't hot.

Editorial of any kind fueled by rage with the intent to vent does not really serve anyone, although it may make the one venting feel better. Like the grown up throwing a temper tantrum in public, it is simply a breech of etiquette.

Instead of posting to the internet, I did what I know most restaurateurs would prefer: I contacted the restaurant directly, got the name of the manager, and drafted a letter to him with specific details of my experience for the purpose of providing a heaping dose of constructive criticism to him and his staff. I expressed my sincere hope that he would use the honest feedback to improve the service and the food. And I do sincerely hope they improve.

In a few months, I am very likely to return to the restaurant. And if I do, I will report my experience. If they have improved, I will be delighted. If they have not, I will have done my due diligence; my "shocked and appalled" will have subsided, and I will be able to recount (with emotion tempered by time and reason) for you, gentle reader, the broader scope of my dining experience with that particular establishment.

So please pause before you post about a poor dining experience and remember this: The food reader is NOT wanting to read about any one person's ire, but about the food. If one needs to vent angst, keep a journal, or call a friend, or spend some time on a couch talking to a trained professional. Anger is a valid emotional response, but the appropriate place for it is not necessarily the internet.

The Beard Awards Semi Finalists

Announced today by the James Beard Foundation, the list of Semi-Finalists for the annual Beard Awards. I tried to access their website several times today, but it was "unavailable." I suppose it is experiencing more traffic today than on possibly any other day of the year. If you are dying of suspense, you can view the full list here, courtesty of Eater.com.

Winter Comfort

It is Super Bowl Sunday, and most of the Mid-Atlantic states are under a thick blanket of snow. I've been snuggled in for the weekend with my sister and her family, mostly because I like to cook and it works out better when there are more people hanging around to help with the eating.

Three days later, we've had beef stew, butternut squash bisque, vanilla roasted almonds, blueberry muffins, french toast and cheese omlettes, fresh squeezed orange and tangerine juice, monte cristo sandwiches, and pizza. The streets have not yet been plowed and are still impassable. My sister did the big dig to get the kids and the dog out of the house, but there is at least one more day for me to indulge in the making of winter comfort food. If the snow-in lasts much longer, we'll have to eat our way out.

And the best part--the part that brings me the most comfort--is not just doing something I love for people who I love, or getting to eat the deliciousness that is best created with an abundance of time and cold weather; the best, most comforting part is sitting across the table from my four year old niece with her mouth full of blueberry muffin, beaming at me like I'm the magical winter muffin fairy. That, my friends, is the most soul warming comfort food there is.

Snow Day Blueberry Muffins

If you find yourself snug at home on a snow day, these muffins can easily be made with cooking staples already in your kitchen. Keep a package of organic wild blueberries in your freezer for just such an occasion.

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

2. Combine the following ingredients in a large mixing bowl and stir well to combine: 2 cups all purpose flour, 2/3 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon baking powder, 1/2 teaspoon salt, the zest of 1 orange (optional).

3. In a separate small mixing bowl, combine the following ingredients, mixing well to combine: 1 cup milk, 2/3 cup vegetable oil, 1 large egg.

4. Add 1 cup frozen blueberries to wet ingredients, stirring quickly to combine.

5. Pour wet ingredients into dry ingredients and fold gently just until mixture is combined. There may be some lumps. Spoon into a muffin pan sprayed with non-stick spray or lined with muffin cups.

6. Bake in a preheated 400 F oven for 20-25 minutes.

Back to Basics--Carrot Cake

Everyone should have a cake recipe that is like a best friend--reliable, easy to get along with, intimately familiar, and of whom one can be exceedingly proud.

For me, that recipe is for a carrot cake.

I have not always liked carrot cake. In my youth, I experienced a great many carrot cakes with ingredients like canned pineapple and wheat germ and bitter nuts that I did not care for. I tasted many with unctuous or cloying frostings. Early attempts to bake my own carrot cakes resulted in dry, crumbly cakes, or improperly seasoned cakes, or simply un-tasty cakes. It was disheartening.

In the late 1990's, I finally met the carrot cake recipe that was to become one of my best culinary friends. It was given to me by a lady, Inger, whose parents were from Denmark. The Danish people have a great love of pastries, cakes and desserts, and I have heard that, per capita, they eat more sweets than in any other country. (Of course, I cannot remember where I read this statistic, nor who determined it, but it is such a charming one that I cannot resist using it here.) The recipe was handwritten, and had notes written in Inger's mother's own hand--in Danish.

The recipe itself was simple enough--it called for the usual ingredients and even boasted the simplicity of the batter being made entirely in a food processor.

Unfortunately, I have never owned a food processor.

And so, this carrot cake recipe and I became acquainted by other means--with a grater, and a mixing bowl, and by spending some quality time together.

One thing that I learned immediately is that I actually LIKE the flavor of carrots in this cake. Most of the carrot cakes I could remember didn't taste much of carrot--they tasted of spices, or bitter nuts, or frosting. To let the delicately sweet flavor of carrots shine, I have found two things to be critical.

First, the carrots should be as fresh as possible, meaning freshly plucked from the ground, not a freshly plucked bag from the produce section of the local food mart. In lieu of growing one's own (or befriending someone who does), certified farmers markets or farm stands are the best places I've found to get the freshest carrots. Look for ones with their green tops still attached. The greens provide a foolproof indicator of just how fresh the carrots are. Unlike the carrot root, the greens will wilt and show signs of less-than-freshness within a few days of being picked. Carrots with the brightest, perkiest greens are the freshest you will find.

Second, carrot cake calls for the carrots to be grated, but I've never seen a recipe specify the size of the grate. I have found that carrots grated too finely become mush lost in the batter. Carrots grated too coarsely don't cook properly when baked and get stuck in one's teeth. A medium grate allows for a good texture and flavor in the finished cake.

Seasoning is a sensitive topic among carrot cake lovers. The recipe that I was originally given contained cinnamon as the only spice, which, in my opinion, is too uninteresting. After years of playing with different combinations, I have found that the addition of freshly grated ginger is a lovely compliment to the carrot and cinnamon, without saddling the cake with so many flavors that it experiences an identity crisis.

Fresh ginger can be successfully peeled with a simple teaspoon rather than a vegetable peeler, which takes a lot of useable ginger off with the peel. Simply scrape the edge of the teaspoon along the outside of the ginger, and the peel of the fresh ginger will come quite willingly.

Once the ginger is peeled, it can be wrapped in plastic, bagged and labeled, and kept in the freezer until needed for baking. Having the ginger frozen allows for easier grating, as fresh ginger tends to be rather fibrous and difficult to grate. Use a microplane to grate the frozen ginger, doing the grating just before mixing the ginger into the batter.

Another sensitive topic is the addition of raisins and nuts. Some people prefer nothing chunky in their cake. Others welcome the additional flavors and textures that raisins and nuts afford. My feelings on the topic are not strong enough to warrant an admonition to either include or eschew these ingredients, and in the recipe below I have preserved the original instruction that these additions are "optional."

For those of you who opt, I have some suggestions for your success.

Walnuts or pecans work well in this cake, and taste best when they are chopped. Rather than buying chopped nuts, which generally cost more and are more likely to be stale (the increased surface area invites oxidation of the nutmeat while it is sitting on your grocer's shelf), buy the largest size of shelled nut available. Lightly toast the nuts (to enhance the flavor) and let them cool. Chop them into evenly sized pieces about the size of an eraser on the end of a pencil. Then place them in a coarse sieve and shake out as much of the nut skins as possible. These skins become bitter in cooking and detract from the flavor of the cake, so keep them out of the batter as best you can.

As a note, one could start with the whole nut in the shell and take the time to crack and pick the nuts, but I am not so delusional as to expect only the very rare baker to have the time, patience and resources to do so. If you do happen to have a walnut or pecan tree at your disposal, count your blessing and put those nuts into your cake! (And feel free to send me some, too!)

Raisins, either golden or Thompson seedless, can work in this cake. Be sure to "plump" the raisins at least an hour and up to a day before using them. Place raisins in a bowl and pour boiling water over them. Cover the bowl and let them sit at least an hour and up to a day. Drain the raisins (reserve the liquid to use when making sweet doughs like cinnamon rolls) and gently dry them with a lint-free towel before measuring them for the recipe.

This carrot cake is serious and sophisticated enough to stand on its own. Baked in a bundt pan, it is perfect for a light breakfast, for elevensies or tea. It travels well sliced and wrapped for lunches and picnics. Baked in a nine inch round pan, it can be sliced and served as a dessert with some fresh whipped cream. It can be made into a very fancy dessert by frosting it with a vanilla butter cream or cream cheese frosting.

So for all my friends who love a good carrot cake, especially Sherra, and Dawn and Steve, this recipe is for you. My great thanks to Inger for sharing the original with me, and to her mother, Ene Marie, who is an excellent baker, too.

Back to Basics--Carrot Cake

2 cups all purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher or table salt (not iodized)
1-2 teaspoons cinnamon (depending on potency)
1 cup vegetable oil
2 cups white sugar
4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 pound fresh carrots, grated
1-2 tablespoons finely grated fresh (frozen) ginger
3/4 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)
3/4 cup plumped golden or Thompson raisins (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 400 F.

2. Prepare a 10" bundt pan by spraying with non-stick spray, or a 9"x3" round cake pan by lining with a greased parchment circle.

3. Sift together dry ingredients: flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt and cinnamon. Set aside.

4. In a large mixing bowl, combine vegetable oil, sugar and eggs. Whisk by hand until well combined, about 2-3 minutes.

5. Add the carrots and the ginger, and the nuts and raisins if desired. Fold into the batter using a rubber spatula until well combined.

6. Add the dry ingredients and fold into the batter until well combined, being careful to not over mix. Pour the batter into prepared pan.

7. Bake immediately in preheated oven 400 F. After 30 minutes, reduce heat to 375 F and continue baking for a total of 50-65 minutes until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean. (Note: if the top of the cake begins to brown prematurely, place a sheet of aluminum foil loosely over the top of the baking pan. Continue to bake as directed.)

8. Let the cake cool in the pan at least 30 minutes.

9. Remove cake from pan and let cool completely to room temperature (about 3 hours) either on a cooling rack or a large platter. Serve at room temperature.


Optional: Frosting the cake

The cake must be cooled completely to room temperature (about 3 hours) then chilled in the refrigerator for a minimum of 2 hours before frosting. Failure to do so may result in the cake "tearing" when the frosting is spread. Attempts at frosting a warm cake will cause the frosting to melt. Word to the wise: do not skip or skimp on this step.

Because this carrot cake has a great deal of flavor on its own, it does not need to be split and filled with the frosting. Frost only the top and sides of the cake. For a fancy presentation, the sides of the cake may be coated with toasted crushed nuts tossed in cinnamon and powdered sugar, or simply combed with a cake comb. In lieu of a cake comb, get fancy with a dinner fork.

Cream Cheese Butter Cream Frosting for Carrot Cake

3 oz cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup (which is 4 oz, or 1 stick) butter, softened
2 cups powdered sugar, sifted
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Combine the cream cheese and butter in a mixing bowl and beat at medium high speed until smooth, scraping down sides as needed.

2. Turn off the mixer. Add about half the powdered sugar and all of the vanilla extract. Turn the mixer onto the lowest speed, pulsing the mixer on and off if necessary, to begin to incorporate the powdered sugar without having it fly out of the bowl. Increase mixing speed and beat until well combined, scraping down the sides as necessary.

3. Reduce speed again and add remaining powdered sugar in two or three additions, beating well until fully incorporated, scraping down the sides as necessary.

4. If frosting is too stiff to spread easily, add 1 tablespoon milk or cream and beat well. Repeat if necessary until frosting is still stiff but spreadable.

The Coffee Drinker's Dilemma

There is a problem I address on a daily basis first thing in the morning. It can be summed up with one word:

Coffee.

If you are a coffee drinker, you are familiar with the dilemma.

How do you successfully make coffee when you have not yet had a cup of coffee?

I stand in the kitchen, bleary eyed, befuddled, clumsy, trying desperately to remember how to brew a pot of coffee.

And as I stand there, hapless and dim witted at the kitchen counter, I survey my options.

I could pour the dregs of yesterday's pot into a cup and reheat it. That would solve the brew-before-drinking problem. But then I start my day with old, mediocre coffee, when what I really want is a delicious and satisfying fresh cup .

If I'd thought ahead, I could have set up the coffee maker last night--ground the beans and set them in the basket, and poured the water into the resevoir. But that isn't ideal either, as the brew tastes best when the beans are freshly ground, rather than sitting out in the filter overnight.

I could go to the trouble of going out to get coffee. Surely there is a gourmet coffee shop or a gas station nearby. But then I have to get dressed, and find shoes, and keys, and money. And I have to navigate the outside world--before actually drinking the coffee. Again, problematic.

Most mornings, I fumble through the motions of placing a filter in the basket, filling it with ground coffee, pouring in the water, and turning on the pot. Then I stand solemnly, almost worshipfully, as the blessed beverage brews before me. Then, with a textbook Pavlovian response, I reach for the pot as soon as the indicator bell sounds and the coffee is ready.

The Perils of Cooking in a New Apartment

After months of travelling and cooking and eating and imposing on the hospitality (and couches, air mattresses and guest rooms) of family, friends and acquaintances, I have found a little place to make my own--at least for a little while.

I should say the place found me. While indulging my culinary wanderlust, I found myself returning to one city in particular with a frequency that perplexed me. I figured I should probably stay put for a while and see what happened next. Just a few days after I made up my mind to look into finding a place, this one literally plopped itself in my lap: a furnished, one bedroom apartment with a semi-private garden and a month-to-month lease in walking distance of some of the best restaurants in the city.

Three weeks later, I moved in.

It has been a while since I've lived alone, and in general I don't care for it. Living alone just seems to me to be a collossal waste of resources: space, utilities, companionship. But worst of all is having no one to cook for, and a regularly scheduled dinner table for one. It never bothers me to dine out alone; but at home, one should never be required to eat alone.

On moving day I planned a very simple dinner. After the requisite meeting with the landlord, signing of papers, walking through the apartment, and unpacking my suitcase, it was late and I was hungry. I had a bag of groceries from Trader Joe's, and a plan.

The kitchen is sufficent with a gas range and poorly thought but abundant cabinet space. There was a set of cast iron skillets, cutlery, utensils, a toaster oven and coffee maker. Luckily, I'd brought with me a stock pot (yes, I travel with certain kitchen items) and set to work making a lentil soup.

I started by sauteing some onions in olive oil.

Less than a minute passed before the smoke detector went off.

Perterbed, I hastily found a chair to stand on and removed the smoke detector from the wall, then removed its battery. I opened a cabinet, placed both on the shelf, closed the cabinet and returned to my onions (slightly more brown than I had wanted them, so I quickly deglazed with some beef broth). While I appreciate that the law requires a landlord to provide a working smoke alarm, I do wonder why one is placed three feet from a stove. In the kitchen. Especially when another one is twelve feet away in the living room. I'm contemplating a smoke detector relocation program, perhaps to the bedroom.

I finished cooking the soup and ate it with a nice crusty bread.

Hours later I was still awake. I was not yet accustomed to the sounds of this new place, and my mind was full of all the possibilities of things to eat in the coming days and weeks. And, as E.B. White put it so well, "when your stomach is empty and your mind is full, it's hard to fall asleep."

At two o'clock in the morning, I acquiesced. It was time for toast.

I hadn't tried the toaster oven yet, and it occurred to me only when the unit started smoking that two o'clock in the morning might not be the best time.

I quickly unplugged the toaster oven and rushed it out the back door into the semi-private garden, leaving a plume of smoke behind me.

It was then that I realized the fan in the kitchen vent didn't work. And that the smoke remaining in the apartment could very easily reach the smoke detector in the living room. I grabbed a dish towel and started fanning furiously. It also occurred to me that the smoke alarm in the living room appeared to be attached to a central alarm system. I was suddenly very awake, and not at all hungry.

After twenty minutes of jumping around the apartment doing my anti-fire dance, I found myself wide awake and not at all hungry (although I did end up eating the toast with a generous slathing of good butter and some strawberry jam). The air had cleared and the alarm had not sounded. I tucked myself back into bed and decided it would be better to meet the neighbors under more auspicious circumstances than a false fire alarm in the middle of the night. Perhaps I could bake a cake. Or make another pot of soup.

Moving Day Lentil Soup
Ingredients (all from Trader Joe's)

1 large yellow onion, sliced
3 tbsp Olive Oil
3-4 sprigs fresh thyme
3 links italian sausage (fully cooked, in deli section), sliced
1 pkg steamed french lentils (in produce section)
4 cups organic beef broth
1"x2" rind of hard cheese such as parmesan
salt and pepper to taste

1. Remove battery from smoke alarm.
2. Saute onions in olive oil over medium high heat until onions begin to brown, 2-3 minutes.
3. Deglaze with about 3 tablespoons of beef broth.
4. Add thyme and sausage, then cover reduce heat to medium. Cook until thyme becomes aromatic (3-5 minutes).
5. Add lentils and beef broth and bring to a boil.
6. Reduce heat to simmer and add cheese rind. Cover and continue to simmer about 20 minutes.
7. Correct seasoning, and remove thyme stems and cheese rind. Serve hot with crusty bread.


P.S. The next morning I thoroughly cleaned the toaster oven. It works just fine.