A very long post on very good cookies

So, it's the Sunday night before Christmas (err...Monday morning...). Most people fall into one of two categories right now: relaxed, everything is purchased, maybe some things are even wrapped.  Or: you find yourself frantically scouring Amazon for toys in certain age ranges, but only ones that are eligible for Prime high-speed shipping, and cursing the ones that meet that criteria but still have "out of stock" in small-but-deadly red font.  I actually fall into both of these categories simultaneously, but that's for another day. Here's the thing, people: you need sustenance. And maybe you need some cookies for that cookie swap you totally forgot about. Or maybe you just want the room to smell like something baked and delicious instead of desperation and smoking credit cards.  Either way, I've got a recipe for you.

Last weekend, I went on a baking spree.  And I do mean spree. I made somewhere around 400 cookies (three different kinds). The impressive stats: I went through 2 dozen eggs, 12 pounds of flour, 8 pounds of sugar, and 4 pounds of butter. My home smelled amazing, my kitchen looked like a bakery bomb went off, and I learned a few more recipes. Two successes, one not so much (gingerbread men were quite a bland disappointment). What follows are the stories of two great cookies.

For those of you oddballs with time on your hands...I give you: Cranberry Pistachio Biscotti. A number of years ago, in a phase of unemployment, I gave no Christmas gifts beyond my parents. Instead, I baked. For everyone. I was living with my parents at the time, and how my mother let me go that haywire in her kitchen for that long I don't really know. But I learned something very, very important...nothing is more valuable in this world than a serious KitchenAid stand mixer. They're pricey (at least the big solid ones) but they are worth every penny. This recipe was a prime example. It's not super complicated - dump ingredients in, let mix, bake, cool, slice, bake again - but doing that first bit with a hand mixer sounds nightmarish, given how thick this dough gets. Anyway: I made these, although with pecans, and wrapped in pretty boxes with the recipe included - not super complicated. No joke, people started calling me Martha Stewart. I think I got better reactions to those cookies than to most actual gifts I'd given in past years.  So, I share this with you in that spirit. The particular fruit and nut combo is up to you, although you probably don't want to go to far astray unless you're also removing/substituting the almond extract.

Cranberry Pistachio Biscotti 
Source: Real Simple

Makes 40 cookies
Hands-on Time: 15m
Total Time: 1hr 30m

Ingredients
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour, spooned and leveled
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 cup unsalted butter (1 stick), at room temperature
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon almond extract
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup shelled roasted pistachios
[note from your blogger: as mentioned before, I think any fruit and nut combo would work here. I haven't tried other dried fruits but have yet to actually use pistachios. I tried hazelnuts this year - tasty (and local!) but fair warning: BUY THEM CRUSHED if you don't own a serious food processor. I was afraid those hard nuts were going to damage the blades of my little chopper attachment to my stick blender.]


Directions
1. Heat oven to 350º F. In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt.

2. With an electric mixer, beat the butter and sugar until just smooth. One at a time, beat in the eggs. Mix in the almond extract. Add the flour mixture and mix until just incorporated. Mix in the cranberries and pistachios.

3. Divide the dough in half and shape into two 10-by-2-inch logs. Place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Bake until just golden around the edges and firm to the touch, 22 to 25 minutes. Let cool for 30 minutes [Note from your blogger: don't rush this step - it needs the full cooling.]

4. Reduce oven to 300º F. Using a serrated knife, cut the logs into ½-inch-thick slices. Arrange in a single layer on the baking sheet. Bake until dry and crisp, 15 to 18 minutes per side.


For those of you with somewhat less time (although you'll still need some), I'll direct you to Lemon Shortbread Sables. This has minimal actual prep time, but does need to spend a decent amount of time in the fridge. The longer the better, it seems. Also, once you are actually cooking them they need to be turned halfway through baking (which is 5-6 minutes). So: make the dough, put in fridge, go to bed. Sometime the next day, bring your laptop into the kitchen and get baking (it's just slice and bake at that point). This way, you can shop and bake at the same time. These cookies are so wonderfully light that they cool in minutes on the rack, so you can get into a little rhythm as they keep coming out of the over, and you end up with a lot of little cookies (they should be about the size of a Nilla wafer, maybe smaller) fairly quickly. The cookie itself is an amazing just-right treat - light, delicately crumbly, salty and sugary and a little teeny bit crunchy. Delicious.

Full disclosure on the sables...this is now two posts in a row with a recipe from Amanda Hesser. This probably means, for fear of a lawsuit, I will have to stop posting her recipes now. Although it should be noted this is actually an adaptation, found on another site entirely.

Meyer Lemon Sablés
Source: the wonderful Orangette, where they are adapted from Amanda Hesser’s Cooking for Mr. Latte
Makes ~70-80 cookies, depending on your dough-snacking tendencies.

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
2 tsp baking powder
2 sticks (1 cup) unsalted butter, at room temperature
½ cup confectioner’s sugar
½ cup granulated sugar
2 Tbs finely grated Meyer lemon zest (from about 2 good-size fruits) [note from your blogger: I used two fairly large regular lemons, and they were great.]
¾ tsp coarse sea salt or Kosher salt
4 large egg yolks
¼ cup coarse Turbinado sugar, for rolling logs of dough

In a small bowl, combine the flour and baking powder, and whisk to mix thoroughly. Set aside.

Put the butter into the bowl of a stand mixer (or a large mixing bowl). Beat (with the paddle attachment, if you’re using a stand mixer) on medium-low speed until the butter is creamy; then add the confectioner’s sugar and beat for a minute. Add the granulated sugar, and beat for a minute more. Sprinkle the lemon zest and salt into the bowl, and mix briefly to just combine. Add the egg yolks one at a time, mixing briefly to incorporate after each addition. With the mixer on low, add the flour in three doses, mixing just until the flour is absorbed. Use a rubber spatula to do any last scraping and stirring; do not overmix. The dough will be quite thick and dense and sticky.

Divide the dough between two large sheets of wax paper. Using the paper as an aid, smoosh and roll and shape one blob of dough into a rough log about 1 ½ inches in diameter. Roll up the log in the paper, and twist the ends to seal it closed. Repeat with the remaining blob of dough. Chill the two logs until the dough is cold and firm, at least two hours and up to a couple of days.

When you’re ready to bake, preheat the oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit, and set a rack in the middle of the oven. Line a baking sheet with a silicone mat or parchment paper. Put a large sheet of parchment paper on the counter, and pour the Turbinado sugar onto it, making a ridge of sugar approximately the length of the dough logs. Remove a log from the fridge, unwrap it, and roll it lightly in the sugar to press the crystals into its sides. Coat the log as thoroughly as you can; then slice it into ¼-inch-thick slices. [I found that a thin paring knife works well.] Lay the slices on the baking sheet, leaving about 2 inches between each cookie. Refrigerate the remaining dough.

Bake the cookies for about 10-12 minutes or until just golden around the edges, rotating the sheet 180 degrees halfway through the baking time. [Keep in mind that the cookies will continue to brown a bit after you have removed them from the oven, so it’s best to err on the pale side.] Cool them on the silicone mat or parchment paper on a wire rack [note from your blogger: the parchment is crucial: remember, you're dealing with a lot of butter here. This keeps the cookies from getting gridded on the bottom]. Repeat with remaining dough.

Store the cookies in an airtight tin at room temperature for up to three days, or freeze them in a Tupperware, with a sheet of wax paper between each layer.

Orange root vegetables, again - this time, success!

Last weekend, I made an announcement: for the upcoming week, there would be no eating out. (Obviously this was accompanied by dramatic hand gestures) My fridge is absurdly full, I'm teetering on wasting things as they spoil, forgotten, in my produce bin, and I'll be traveling for the holidays and need to clear the fridge.  EPB was game for this, and so it was to be. In truth this didn't work out all that well - I think we still ate out at least once, and I definitely had a couple pasta dinners - one of which only added to the fridge, the exact opposite of the goal.

But then! Wednesday night, I was packaging the produce from that morning's Full Circle delivery. Included was a bulb of fennel, yet another familiar-yet-intimidating ingredient for me. I've had fennel in things - salads, I guess - and enjoyed it, but never have I worked with it. I puzzled over it for a moment, and then instead of heading to the internet like I usually do I headed for the cookbook shelf. Years ago I acquired a copy of Cooking for Mr. Latte. I picked it up because it looked like an interesting memoir - some storytelling involving food, what's not to love? In the past year, though, I've found myself turning to it again and again for recipes. And that night, I had a feeling someone like Amanda Hesser would have some sort of interesting idea for a bulb of fennel.

Something else to know before I go on - separately, I had been contemplating making some sort of carrot puree soup, assuming I could unearth a recipe. Compliments again of Full Circle, I had accumulated 1.5 pounds of carrots, which seemed like a lot of dinner side dishes.

So: back to Wednesday night. I open the book, flip to the index, skim down to F...fennel...and lo! Not on are there fennel recipes, but the first one I see is: Carrot and Fennel Soup. Obviously, that was meant to be. It turned out to be exactly what I was looking for - creamy and flavorful, but somehow light. Easy, but just a little different. And the best part: fennel bulb aside, most of the ingredients are the sort of thing you'd typically have laying around.

Amanda recommends a tasty-sounding meatloaf with this. That would probably be great. Since we're in Seattle and it's finally Dungeness season, meaning they're fresh-caught, just off the boat that morning, and $3.99 a pound, we opted for those instead.

[Caveat from your blogger: the published online versions of this soup are a few years earlier than the book, and the recipes are different. I'm going on the assumption that the book version was refined and further perfected, so will adapt that for this blog, since that's the version I used. You all should really buy the book.]

Carrot-and-Fennel Soup

INGREDIENTS

2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 medium fennel bulb, stalks cut flush with the bulb, and coarsely chopped; fronds reserved
1 1/2 pounds carrots, peeled and thickly sliced (approximately 4 cups)
1 large garlic clove, thinly sliced
1 teaspoon sea salt, more to taste
1/3 cup fresh orange juice
1/4 cup sour cream
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

PREPARATION

1. In a 3-quart heavy saucepan, over medium heat, melt the butter until foamy. Add the chopped fennel and cook, stirring, until softened and turning golden. Add the carrots and garlic and cook another minute. Pour in just enough water to cover the vegetables (about 3 cups, depends a bit on your saucepan) and season with salt. Simmer, covered, until the carrots are very tender, about 20 minutes [note from your blogger: it was more like 30 for me]. Add more water if the pot gets dry.

2. Ladle the soup into a food processor, and puree the mixture with the orange juice, sour cream and salt and pepper to taste. Puree to the consistency you want - chunky, smooth - your call. You may want to do this in batches, but do make sure the feed tube is covered or hot soup will leap out like a geyser. Pour the soup back in the pan, bringing the temperature back up while stirring until just heated through; do not boil.  Taste it again. Pull the fennel fronds into pieces and drop them into the soup. Give it one last stir.

[Note from your blogger, or Alternate Ending #2: do you have a stick blender? Great. No? Get one or borrow one. Trust me. Next, skip number two and do this: remove the pot from the heat, and fully insert your stick blender (careful not to let it suction to the bottom of the pot). Pulse for a few minutes, to the consistency you want. Remove blender. NOW add the extra salt, pepper, and fennel fronds (although I only added a few for fear of overpowering it), give it a stir, and you're done (add a few more fronds on top if you want, they look pretty and add to the "impressive" factor). The soup didn't get a chance to cool off since you never took it out of the pot, and it's ready to eat.]

Makes roughly 4-6 servings, depending on how much soup you like as part of your meal.

I've been giving some vague thought to a merest pinch of cayenne next time I make this...what do you think?

Ready for stuffing again? Yes, you are.

It's been a while since Thanksgiving, and I bet you're wondering "I saw part 1, where the heck is part 2?" Where, indeed. I got a little distracted. The upside: it's been long enough now that you (theoretically) aren't sick of Thanksgiving food anymore...and maybe are even thinking about, say, stuffing for your Christmas dinner. Right? Well, if not - you should, if only to make this delicious concoction. The truth is it wasn't perfect, but even the less than perfect was delicious. Bonus: it's the best kind of holiday food. The leftovers get better with age!




As previously mentioned here, I got a little teeny bit carried away with the Thanksgiving menu planning. Like a new mother who disdains jarred baby food for homemade organic puree, I was all about farm-to-table, scratch-made. For the most part, mysteriously, it worked out. This stuffing was a prime example - while it was a bit more complicated and time-consuming than I expected, it was so good that the effort was quickly forgotten - especially since I would have needed to do something with these ingredients anyway, since Full Circle had delivered many of them (including the delicious and crucial creminis) in my weekly box.

Sourdough Bread Stuffing
Source: Food Network, Good Deal With Dave Lieberman
Prep Time: 10 min // Inactive Prep Time: 15 min // Cook Time: 1 hr 15 min
6-8 servings

Ingredients

1-pound loaf sourdough bread
8 tablespoons butter
10 ounces cremini mushrooms, sliced 1/2-inch thick in both directions [note from your blogger: do not skimp on the type or amount of mushroom. The rich flavor of the creminis makes this stuffing.]
Salt and freshly ground pepper
2 to 4 stalks celery with leaves, halved lengthwise and sliced
1 medium onion, chopped
About 10 sprigs fresh thyme, leaves stripped from the stems
10 to 12 fresh sage leaves, chopped
3 1/2 cups low-sodium chicken broth
3 tablespoons chopped Italian parsley leaves

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Grease a 2-quart baking dish and set aside.

Cut or tear the bread into 1-inch cubes and spread it evenly on 2 baking sheets. Toast the bread in the oven until completely dry and beginning to crisp and brown, about 20 minutes. Transfer to a large mixing bowl.

[Note from your blogger: As is clearly a trend, I skipped this step and bought cubed bread, dried out, from a bakery at my farmer's market. It was delicious and I'll do it again, but if you do that make sure you add a little extra broth - maybe another half cup - to balance the moisture level. This is also something that ceases to be an issue in the leftovers, as the moisture redistributes itself nicely.]

Melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the mushrooms and a few pinches of salt and saute, stirring occasionally, until golden brown, about 6 to 8 minutes. Add celery, onion, 2 tablespoons butter, and thyme. Once the butter has melted, cook, stirring frequently, until the vegetables have softened, about 5 minutes. Add sage and remaining 4 tablespoons butter. Add chicken broth to skillet and stir to combine. Season with salt and pepper, to taste.

Transfer toasted bread cubes to a large bowl. Pour the chicken broth mixture over the bread cubes and toss to combine until the bread cubes absorb the liquid. Pour the mixture into the greased baking dish, and sprinkle with parsley. Bake in the center of the oven until heated through and the top is golden brown, about 40 minutes. Remove the stuffing from the oven and allow to cool about 15 minutes before serving.



Now speaking of over planning, I'm in the middle of baking approximately 425 cookies right now...but before that, there was a carrot soup.

Thanksgiving Aftermath, part 1

Happy après-Thanksgiving, everyone! Are you still feeling the food coma? I am…mostly because I can’t stop eating leftovers and am already plowing through holiday eggnog. December: 1, Meg’s willpower: 0. (Somewhat troubling in that it isn't actually December yet.) But since my Thanksgiving cooking efforts were so successful, I’m calling the whole thing a win anyway. 

I actually had two Thanksgivings, one which I did not contribute to and one which I cooked about 60% of, plus an out-of-order leftover experience.  The first Thanksgiving was at my cousins’ home, and my cousin’s mother-in-law was responsible for some seriously delicious butternut squash. I’ll figure out that one and share it here soon, hopefully…

Then came Friday, when EPB and I realized a little too late that doing our Thanksgiving on Saturday meant that we had to improvise the traditional Friday meal of leftover sandwiches.  So, with canned cranberry and StoveTop to the rescue (plus leftover turkey from an office lunch earlier in the week, we created our masterpieces. EPB may win for most interesting – his went as follows: layer of white bread (the more basic the better, and – in his case – untoasted), turkey, cranberry, layer of white bread that had been dredged in leftover gravy, layer of stuffing, remaining slice of white bread. Mine was toasted and lacking the middle slice – I added some mayonnaise and used my gravy dip-style. Overall, quite delicious.

But Saturday…oh Saturday. As mentioned previously, we had procured a turkey – free-range, organic, heritage breed (Spanish Black, if you’re wondering) – not quite the fanciest turkey out there but pretty darn close.  Feather bits plucked, Friday it went into the brine. Saturday, it hit the brand-new smoker. And it was GOOD. So good, we may have converted our guests to this turkey and process for next year! 

The majority of the sides were my project, and while not everything was a success I am fairly sure I have found the world’s best stuffing.  Things that were marginally successful: Lemony Green Beans (sort of tasty but too lemony, and possibly also over-steamed - not worth detailing here), and mashed sweet potatoes. These mashed sweet potatoes will be the death of me. They have been a staple in my family for years – my grandmother used to make them, and she taught my mother, who makes them for holidays now.  They are (allegedly) simple, and delicious. The trick is the addition of apple juice – you’re supposed to add gradually until it looks “thin” or you can smell it, then let it sit on keep warm and the potatoes will absorb the rest.  Three times now I have added slowly, and it has gone from not at all thin, to suddenly quite thin, and then – no matter what I try – it does not re-thicken. SO FRUSTRATING. This year, after a series of delicious baked sweet potato experiences, I apparently thought it would be a good idea to mess with a recipe I had never perfected in the first place by mashing fresh, instead of using canned (the recipe way).  Suffice to say: it didn’t work. Flavor: okay. Texture: thin and chunky at the same time. Distressing. 

But the stuffing…oh, my. The stuffing. Recipe and story coming up shortly...

I'm a lucky blogger

Thanksgiving...a high point of what I think of as "the cooking season". It's gloomy out, and people gather for warmth and unconcerned eating. It's the first and last time people really enjoy holiday food - after this, the Christmas parties come fast and furious, and we're all perpetually...stuffed. But Thanksgiving! Nothing has gone awry yet, no one has been trampled for a big cheap flat screen. There's only food, family, friends, football.

This year, I'm doubly lucky. I'll have a Thanksgiving with my family out here tomorrow - so glad that I HAVE family out here! - and Saturday we'll have our own Thanksgiving at home, because someone has an overwhelming desire to smoke his own turkey. In between, shopping will be limited to the internet and strenuous activities will include...um, nothing. I've got quite a meal planned for Saturday...the turkey arrived this morning from Windy N Ranch in Ellensburg, WA, via Full Circle Farm in Carnation, WA (where I get my bi-weekly organic produce delivery from). Tom Turkey looks pretty promising...there are still some feather bits on him, which is alternately fantastic (so fresh!) and slightly disconcerting. The produce box contents - Yukon Gold potatoes, carrots, celery, leeks - will make up a good part of the menu. There are also pears - you know what will happen to those! The West Seattle Farmer's Market filled in the rest of the ingredients - cranberries, sweet potatoes, bread for the stuffing, all locally grown/produced.

I'm so excited to cook all this - and so grateful to live in a place where all this can be locally provided by non-corporate/industrial farms.

Happy Thanksgiving!

"Can I get that recipe?"

A lot of my cooking lately has been baking-centered, and fruit-specific baking at that. This isn’t something I have always done much of. It was sort of an accident, actually. Over the past four years or so, I developed some bizarre food reactions. A little bit of research combined with a visit to a really great allergist in Princeton, NJ, and it turns out...I’m allergy to healthy things. Okay, not ALL healthy things - but a lot of raw fruits and vegetables. Turns out this isn’t as weird as it seems - not even that uncommon, just under-diagnosed.

I digress. Point is, can’t eat raw fruit. Fast forward to the holidays last year, when I was the recipient of a couple of Harry & David gift boxes...both of which included many fresh, juicy, delicious, pears. Which I can’t eat. What to do? Poached pears sounded so thoroughly unappealing. A little Google hunting produced a fairly simple sounding pear tart recipe (posted in full below), so I figured I’d give it a try.

The first time I made it, it came out looking like total liquid, and I fretted and I knashed and I wrung my hands and put it in the oven again and again. Since the juice was being created by the ongoing liquidation of the pears plus the brown sugar, this obviously didn’t help, but in the end it may actually have made it even more delicious (just as long as you don’t burn the crust).



Bottom line: simple, delicious, and the kind of thing that, if you bring it into the office, your colleagues will ask for again and again and again. Trust me.

Give this one a try...more baked fruit recipes to follow!

Rustic Pear Tart Eating Healthy in 2009. Copyright 2007, Ellie Krieger, All Rights Reserved.
Prep Time: 40 min // Inactive Prep Time: 30 min // Cook Time: 1 hr 0 min
Serves 6

Ingredients

Crust: [note from your blogger: I completely skip this crust business...Trader Joe's makes a terrific frozen crust that looks and tastes homemade. Defrost, roll out, and you're done. But if you're so inclined, this one came with the recipe...]

1/2 cup whole-grain pastry flour or regular whole wheat flour
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons granulated sugar
1/8 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
2 tablespoons lowfat buttermilk
3 tablespoons ice water

Filling:

3 medium pears
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon plus 1 teaspoon cornstarch
3 tablespoons light brown sugar [Note from your blogger: I rarely have light brown sugar on hand, so do the old half-and-half of dark brown and white sugar.]
1/8 teaspoon ground cinnamon

Glaze [Note from your blogger: I tend to forget to make this...the tart is still delicious either way, although probably not as pretty]:

1 teaspoon honey
1/4 teaspoon boiling water

Directions

To prepare the crust, in a medium bowl whisk together the whole-wheat pastry flour, all- purpose flour, granulated sugar and salt. Add the butter and using two knives or a pastry cutter, cut the butter into the flour mixture until you get a pebbly, course texture. In a small bowl combine the buttermilk and ice water. Using a fork, gradually mix the buttermilk mixture into the flour mixture. Pat the dough into a 4-inch round and wrap in plastic wrap. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

In the meantime, preheat the oven to 425 degrees F, and prepare the filling. Peelthe pears, core them and cut into 1/4-inch slices. In a large bowl toss the pear slices with the lemon juice. Sprinkle in the cornstarch, brown sugar and cinnamonand toss until the pears are evenly coated. Set aside.

On a lightly floured surface, roll the chilled dough into a large circle about nine inches in diameter. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper, and draping the dough over the rolling pin, transfer to the prepared baking sheet. If the dough breaks at all patch it up with your fingers. [Note from your blogger: I haven’t attempted this - haven’t been confident the crust wouldn’t collapse on me with all the liquid the appears - so have been just putting in a pie dish. Arrange and fold as she suggests and it works out fine.]

Arrange the pears in a mound in the center of the dough, leaving a 2-inch boarder. Fold the border over the filling. It will only cover the pears partially and does not need to be even.

Bake the tart for 15 minutes, and then reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees F, keeping the tart in the oven all the while, and bake for another 40 minutes, until the pears are tender and the crust is golden brown. [Note from your blogger: at this point, mine often looks like it’s too liquid-y, as mentioned above. Don’t worry about it. Let it cool and the liquid will set. Just be careful to limit the amount of heat it if you serve it warm...which you should.]

In a small bowl stir together the honey and boiling water to make a glaze. When the tart is done remove it from the oven and brush the honey glaze all over the top of the fruit and crust. Transfer to a plate to cool slightly. Cut into 6 wedges and serve warm or a room temperature.

The pork, it is roasted. And then some.

So, it's November. Clearly, this is not gardening season...at least not in Seattle, so we're skipping that part of my re-learning curve for a few months. It IS Dungeness crab season...at least, it should be...and it's comfort food season. What sounds more comfort food-y than a roasted pork loin? Nothing! Well, plenty of things...but last week pork loin was it. It was on sale in massive cuts at my grocery...minimum: 8 pounds of pork! I live alone. 8 pounds was clearly excessive, so I now have 3 2-lb cuts in the freezer. What happened to the other one? Well, that's a matter of opinion, but I'm getting ahead of myself. The first challenge was finding a roast pork recipe that involved neither fruit (apples/raisins/etc) nor onions. I'm not opposed to fruit, and certainly have no shortage of fruit at the moment, but...fruit with pork always seems to make me just want more roasted fruit and less pork. Also I really hate cooking with onions. Truth be told I'm not super fond of eating them, either.

A little digging around produced this deliciously garlicky sounding recipe (copied in full below). I had all the required ingredients in-house, which is no small thing for me, and this even gave me an excuse to use something I had grown on the back patio (rosemary). I got home from work and got to it, stabbing the pork and lining the pan and crushing some recently dried rosemary. I popped it on the rack, set the timer, and put the whole thing in the oven. For the following two hours my apartment smelled AMAZING, if a little garlicky. It came out, and I sat down to a very attractive dinner.



I took the first bite...and knew immediately something had gone awry. The flavors were perfect - rosemary and garlic but neither in an overpowering way - but the meat was surprisingly overdone. Why? Well, if you already looked at the recipe and read my post carefully, you probably thought "wait, why is she putting this thing on a rack?" Indeed, why? There was no mention of a rack in the recipe. #fail. 

So, fellow chefs: remember, just because you're roasting something doesn't mean there's a rack involved. Now, to be fair: my ever-patient boyfriend (henceforth referred to as "EPB") tried to assure me that it was delicious, not at all overcooked. So either he was being kind or I like my pork juicier than it's supposed to be...who knows? Either way: I'll try this one again.

Roasted Pork Loin (source: AllRecipes, Kathleen Burton)

Serves 8 (although those seems like pretty small servings to me); Prep time 20 minutes, Cook time ~2 hours

Ingredients
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 tablespoon dried rosemary
salt and pepper to taste
2 pounds boneless pork loin roast
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup white wine

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Crush garlic with rosemary, salt and pepper, making a paste. Pierce meat with a sharp knife in several places and press the garlic paste into the openings. Rub the meat with the remaining garlic mixture and olive oil. 

Place pork loin into oven, turning and basting with pan liquids. Cook until the pork is no longer pink in the center, about 2 hours. An instant-read thermometer inserted into the center should read 160 degrees F (70 degrees C). Remove roast to a platter. Heat the wine in the pan and stir to loosen browned bits of food on the bottom. Serve with pan juices.

Okay, seriously, the world needs another food blog.

So, clearly THAT's not true...but I'm doing it anyway. I say "food" blog specifically for its vagueness - this will run the gamut from cooking debacles to eating experiences to gardening mishaps to the bi-weekly adventures that are my CSA membership. I was cut off from domestic bliss for a few years there, so am throwing myself into it with a vengeance now. Among other things, I joined a CSA to get myself out of a rapidly developing mini-rut: if it's in my kitchen already, I'm much more inclined to actually do something with it.

The truth is, the CSA is what triggered this thing. I think I have run out of friends who are willing to stop and brainstorm when I call them after opening the delivery and say "so, what the heck do I do with THIS thing?" So, what do people do when they need a little human guidance? Well, obviously we turn to the millions of strangers in the great system of tubes known as the World Wide Web. So: I'll tell stories and share the wins and losses, and maybe you can help me out a little here and there. If not, well, at least I'll have a place to double check where I went wrong on that recipe that one time...

And off we go!