Growth! (Too much, even)

In my last post, I mentioned basil from my garden. One would think that suggested I've had success in this realm...one would be wrong. My basil seed had one tiny tiny sprout...and then it died. This is a common problem here in the Northwest - it's just not hot and sunny for long enough, and the basil can't tough it out like the rest of us. But to me, summer is caprese salad. My local farmers market has tomatoes early on, since it's a relatively short drive across the Cascade Mountains to the warm and dry climate, so I feel like I should make caprese...and last weekend I ran out of patience. Trader Joe's, which just opened down the street, had $3 basil, so I figured it was worth it. Well, I got down there and it wasn't bundles, like I assumed, but full-on plants!

 I clipped what I needed and plopped the remaining plant (or five, actually - quite a deal, this) right into the dirt that had once held a tiny spring of short-lived basil, and have had multiple caprese salads since, with these fun black zebra tomatoes from the market (and those other pretty orange ones...I forget what they are, though). So, I kind of (totally) cheated, but the end result is good, no?

In related news, my own tomato plants have had a growth spurt, including the one I planted from seed - I think it has almost caught up to the start I bought, which is very exciting.

Even better, the mint and rosemary - while not quite thriving - have recovered from their various ailments, (I don't think I talked about the mint here, but it had this weird white foam on it for a while which seems to have been harmless) and my peas are happily popping along in what the rest of the country calls "cool spring-like weather". 

The spinach does well in this climate, too - I've only got one little pot of it, but have gotten multiple salads and omelettes out of it. I just cut it back again - it's growing so fast that some of it was on the verge of bolting. 


I'm still having some challenges, though. For one thing, my thyme might be the slowest growing thing ever. I have approximately one recipe's worth, fully two months after I planted it. And those tomatoes have some sort of odd underleaf drooping happening. Google seems to suggest this is normal, but previous plants haven't done this, that I recall. On the upside, the only droopy branches are the ones that are leaves only, not blossoms or beginnings of tomatoes. I'm trying to make myself prune them...my first tomato attempt, on my deck back in Portland, went totally unpruned because I had no clue what I was doing. This led to a 6 foot cherry tomato plant. Literally. Needless to say, it wasn't the sturdiest thing in the world. 


So here's my challenge, and I need ideas. My sage plant has gone CRAZY. It kind of muddled along last summer, and just barely survived the winter...and suddenly it's huge, and when I wasn't looking it started producing gigantic leaves. I've trimmed it and frozen some, since all the recipes I typically use sage for are autumnal (roast poultry, roast pork)...and I have plenty of it dried already. What do I do with the rest?? Would love suggestions...

Something's Fishy 101

Summertime culinary adventures are a challenge. On the one hand there’s so much freshness – salmon and halibut are coming in fresh, vegetables and fruit are colorful and inviting at the market – but on the other hand, it’s hot, and cooking sounds only marginally appealing.

Here in Seattle, however, summer doesn’t arrive till early July, so it’s still cool enough to play around. The catch is that we have these weirdly long days that I didn’t know about before moving here. It’s bright by 4:30am, and not actually dark till 10. As a result, the light level doesn’t trigger my brain to think “mealtime” till a good 8pm (at the earliest), by which time I do not want to spend more than 15 minutes prepping anything. The resulting meals have been the following basic combo: pan-cooked fish of some sort + salad of some sort. If I’m feeling ambitious, and/or have something that’s about to go bad, and/or do NOT lose track of time, I may also steam some green thing of some sort – green beans, asparagus – either way it’s a three minute process. Take the other night’s meal: pan seared halibut + caprese salad. The caprese actually included basil from the back patio…which isn’t the success it sounds like. More about that in another post.

Anyway: I assumed pan-cooking fish was too basic for blogging, but I’ve had a decent number of people ask how to cook various types of fish lately, so maybe not. No judgment here – I still haven’t mastered a basic steak. Embarrassing but true. Anyway, I’ve been mostly doing salmon and halibut lately, and while they're essentially the same recipe I'll cover the salmon here - halibut is a little pricey this season.

Pan-grilled Salmon (not adapted from anyone!)

Ingredients

• Filet of salmon, skin-on, at least an inch thick (I roughly plan for about 1/3 lb, or a little more, per person)
• Olive oil (this is for coating the salmon, so about a tablespoon for every two servings. Also, if your kitchen doesn’t have great ventilation you might want to use grapeseed oil, as it has a slightly higher smoke point. You shouldn’t get a ton of flavor difference with the quantity you’re using, and if you’re paranoid about your smoke alarm – like I am – this gives you a little more space.)
• Fine sea salt, or kosher salt – just not coarse. You want it to cook in.
• Fresh cracked pepper

Get a decent salmon filet – the highest quality you can find and afford, and none of this Atlantic farmed business. Wild Pacific only (certain wild Scottish versions are acceptable, but it's still a different flavor). Ideally it won’t have been previously frozen, but if that’s what you’ve got it’s fine.

[*Note from your blogger: If you happen upon the gloriousness of Yukon King salmon, do NOT use this recipe. You want to have the least possible input on the flavor – it’s that good – and your best bet is to either go out to your grill or find a friend who will share their grill (they’ll be happy to do so forever after once they taste this), get some cedar planks, and plank that baby. It will be the most delicious thing ever, and unbelievably rich while still crazy healthy. Many recipes out there advise rubbing it down with crazy things like brown sugar, mustard, and – of all things – salad dressing. Ick. This may be useful for Atlantic salmon, which doesn’t have a dramatic a flavor so you’re not ruining anything, but for the love of Pete please don’t do this to anything from the Pacific. A little oil to keep it from sticking, some simple salt and pepper, and let the natural flavor shine through.*]

Now back to the recipe I’m ACTUALLY talking about…which is actually pretty similar. The key here is a grill pan – I have a heavy duty (but not cast iron one) and this recipe is based on that. The grill pan is key here, as it lets most of the oil fall away and gives it those great grill lines – and really, aesthetics are half the fun.

How you prepare the salmon for the pan is your personal discretion. If you cut the large piece into portions first, it’s much easier to deal with at the end, but I find that cooking it whole keeps it more moist. I do often mangle it at the end, though (see above picture), so your call.

Heat the pan over medium heat. You can adjust this depending on your range – most recipes say medium-high, but I’ve found that medium works better for me – more even cooking – plus I think my range isn’t calibrated 100% accurately.

While pan heats up, spoon the oil over both sides of the fish, making sure it’s evenly covered but not totally drenched. We’re not deep-frying here, people. Give each side a very generous coating of salt and pepper – you’ll get a great semi-crust later.

Once your pan is hot enough, place the salmon on the  grill ridges, skin side up. Be ready for the oil to sizzle and splatter a little bit. Leave it be and do not fuss with it, for roughly 3-4 minutes, but do keep an eye on the sides to make sure the color is changing. Once it looks to be cooked about halfway through, flip it gently and cook it for another 3-4 minutes (it will seem like it's cooking faster, but be patient). At this point it’s a combination of judgment call/thickness of fish. I like mine a little rare in the center, so I stop here. If that makes you nervous, you can leave it for another minute – but keep an eye on it! You don’t want to overcook it and lose the flavor.

And…that’s it. Oil, salt and pepper, pan. Add a big simple salad of some sort, and you’ve got dinner.

[*Note from your blogger: If you aren't a salmon fan: when I make halibut (or redfish if I'm in NOLA), I use essentially the same recipe, except I use a normal skillet and not the grill pan. My opinion, not universally shared, is that even the thick white-flesh fish isn't firm enough to sit happily on the grill pan's ridges. So: normal skillet, about 1-3 tablespoons of oil (depending on the size of your fillet), with the oil heated in the pan instead of on the fish. You're looking to sear it here, and this will give you a nice golden crust. Cook it for roughly 4-5 minutes per side, following the same protocol as salmon (don't fuss with it, prepare for splatter).  These cooking times are all based on the thickness of the fish and the calibration of the stove, so unlike the professionals I can't give you an exact calculation - but that's a good thing, as the best way to get the hang of this is trial and error.*]

Let me know how yours turns out! If you're already past this stage of beginner fish, what twists do you add in? Interesting sauces? Something else in the oil/salt/pepper mix?

A sunless tease

Dear Seattle:

The past three (four?) weekends of sun and warmth were marvelous. Really great. Out of character, making them that much more enjoyable. I was inspired! I puttered in the garden (aka, on my patio). I PLANTED THINGS. Things that, according to my middle school biology teacher, need sunshine to grow. Since that time, you have given me zero (0) hours of sunshine. I know that you're just trying to be you. Really, I get it. But couldn't you even things out a tiny bit? Please? I'm going to be unable to tend to my plants for the second half of May so it would be swell if everything could be settled in and growing, or at least stable, by then. Thanks.

Readers, I am frustrated. I'm having a few more challenges this year than previous years. It's only the very beginning of the season, so there's plenty of time for things to be corrected, but there have definitely been some bumps. My lavender and mint continue to plug along happily, but everything else...less happy. My rosemary, for one, is struggling. I've never had a rosemary problem before - it's always been so sturdy - but I think this past winter has left serious aftereffects. While the plant has hung in there and is still alive, it is definitely newly scrawny, and is still dropping needles (albeit at a slower rate). I've aerated, repotted, drained, added fresh soil. Who out there is knowledgeable on rosemary? It's one thing to lose a pretty flower plant. But the rosemary - that's functional. I cook with it often, and just pop outside to snip a few branches. I actually make good use of this plant!

Here's how it looks today:

Meanwhile, I'm attempting salad ingredients again. Last year I planted a mesclun mix - didn't employ a lot of order, just scattered seeds. So far, no big deal. However...I then proceeded to not thin it, ever. I couldn't bring myself to pluck things when I didn't know which would be the better grower, so I left everything...and killed everything. Well, maybe I didn't KILL it - but I did grow albino salad, as the density of the leaves blocked their own sun. It was sort of remarkable, and not very edible. This year, I will be cold and harsh and pluck at will. I'm also growing simple baby spinach instead of a mix, and I planted in a more orderly manner, and I'm hoping both of these will lead to a better result. Anyway, the whole point of that ramble is to share that a mere week after seeding, there are a few tiny green shoots popping out of the spinach pot! Very exciting. (You've got to look really hard, but trust me - they're there.)

Finally, my tomatoes. I ordered a packet of cherry tomato seeds from Burpee, and followed the directions, planting what should have provided me with seven plants, and planning on using the two sturdiest. Of those seven, I got one. One! Ridiculous, and not impressive. Today I gave in and bought a start from my farmers' market. After I potted them both, I realized just how sad and puny my homegrown start was. Maybe this will work out and just lead to a staggered harvest...(can you guess which is which?...and don't be fooled by the apparent brightness in this photo. It was overcast, just brightish overcast.)

Fingers crossed, people. Fingers crossed.

Oh yeah, I'm planting things too

When I started this blog, I promised it would be for cooking and for gardening, and thus far (thanks to Seattle's weather) it's been all food, all the time. No more! We just had this bizarre stretch of nice weather (which is now MIA, but there's rumors it will return), and I promptly headed out to my patio, cleaning up the winter's mess and getting things going for the spring/summer. About a month ago, I started a few seeds in those little cups that break down in the larger pots - no replanting required - and am now, with a few exceptions, gradually moving them outside. I am 100% a container gardener - I have a patio of a decent size, and that's the end of it. Which is perfectly fine by me - no weeding! A few years back I tried to garden in a patch at the back of my parents' yard, and it was a disaster. Granted, it was the summer of May and June deluges, so the shallots and garlic drowned and rotted and things that lived were stunted at best, but on top of that I felt like there was a daily losing battle with the weeds. And this was when I was unemployed, so had plenty of time to be out there weeding every day - and I still couldn't keep up. So, containers are how I roll now.

It's still early in the season, so the only thing that's actually "grown" so far is my lavender. Lavender grows like crazy out here - I accidentally created a wild lavender offshoot in one of the apartment complex-maintained planters when nature sent some seeds/pollen floating over from my pot. My plant had gone dormant over the summer, and having never grown it before I wasn't sure what to expect. It lives in this cool ceramic pot that I like, but which doesn't slope out enough at the top for easy repotting. So, I left it be...then two weeks ago, looked out my window to see the thing had just about doubled in size!

                             

So, a good start out here, as with the mint plant that also refuses to die. Other struggling holdovers include rosemary and sage, both of which got a little more rain than I think they would have liked. But they're hanging in there, and I'm hopeful. Bring on the sunshine!

Gotta Have a...Bundt?

Recently, I had one of those "I want to use that pan" moments. Maybe you aren't a person who has acquired a bizarre number of specialized kitchen items, and you don't have these moments. I do. The pan in question was a kinda-vintage butter yellow enameled Bundt pan, acquired either at a yard sale or at the free table in my old apartment building in Hyde Park. Either way, not exactly an investment - but I've had it for a while and had never used it. I also was getting some grief for not baking anything for the office recently, and on top of that - there were little hints of spring here in Seattle. Nothing really dramatic, but enough to trigger my craving for things involving either berries or lemon or both. (This recipe technically uses berry preserves, but I bet if berries were actually in season they might be juicy enough to be smushed up and used on their own.) I had been meaning to look for something...and then one morning in my inbox, via the Food&Wine Daily, there it was: Blueberry Sour Cream Coffee Cake!

Blueberry-Sour Cream Coffee Cake (adapted from Food & Wine Online) [*note from your blogger: this link is a little fluky lately, but I'll give it a try*]

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 sticks (1/2 lb) unsalted butter, softened
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature, lightly beaten
1 cup sour cream
1 Tbsp pure vanilla extract
3/4 cup blueberry preserves, plus 1 Tbsp melted preserves
Confectioners' sugar, for dusting

Preheat the oven to 350°. Butter and flour a 10-inch Bundt pan. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder and salt. In a large bowl, beat the butter until creamy. Add the granulated sugar and beat until fluffy. Beat in the eggs, sour cream and vanilla. Beat in the dry ingredients just until incorporated. [*note from your blogger: USE CAUTION if using a stand mixer. I'd gotten used to recipes formatted for stand mixers, but I don't think this was because my cake had definitely been beat a little two much....cue my father's bad pun about black-and-blue and blueberries here*]
Spread all but 1/2 cup of the batter into the prepared pan. Using the back of a spoon, make a trough in the batter, all the way around the pan. Mix the 3/4 cup of blueberry preserves with the reserved batter and spoon it into the trough. [*note from your blogger: this is tricky. Beware. Mine was a teeny bit messy. Still tasted fine though!*]
Bake the cake for about 1 hour, or until it begins to pull away from the pan and a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. Let the cake cool in the pan for 15 minutes. Invert the cake onto a wire rack, remove the pan and let cool completely. Sift the confectioners' sugar over the cake, drizzle with the melted blueberry preserves and serve. [*note from your blogger: I was making this for the office and my colleagues have been leaning towards slightly healthier things of late, so I skipped the frosting. It was still tasty, and somewhat morning-snack-friendly*]

A long post, a long time coming, on a comfort food for long cold stretches [Or: Cooking with wine.]

Readers...if there are any of you left...I apologize. There's been this thing, and then another things, and...enough excuses. No more! I am getting back on this horse.

While it's way past the time of year for hearty cold weather food, I understand some of you unfortunate souls have been having nor'easter out there. So, for this I offer my story of a gloomy Sunday in Seattle, back in...I think it was late February.

I was halfway through Sunday when I had this overwhelming urge to cook many hearty things. Midday Sunday is kind of  dangerous time for this mindset, unless you're of the organized and effecient type (I'm not). I CRAVED coq au vin, and I had this urge to make some kind of lentil soup. Since I couldn't decide which to focus on, at around 3pm I started preparations to make both. This involved, among other things, an insane amount of produce choppping.  I would probably not encourage anyone else to make both of these at once, at least without the following: a) a severe amount of kitchen/clock management discipline; b) at least two dutch ovens of your brand of choice (mine is a beloved 40-year old orange Copco - it's always exciting for me when orange cycles back through as the "it" color); and c) a big kitchen with a very big range. I have very little of (a), only one of (b), and and the only way I could be considered to have (c) is if a Manhattan studio walk-up is your comparison.  It's not remarkably small, but it ain't big and my range is entirely standard. Plus, it's electric, so I can't put move something off the heat to another burner unless said other burner hasn't been used within the past 20 minutes. But I digress.

So, to work I went. EPB earned his acronym with this one - aside from waiting through the excessively long time that I holed up in the kitchen chopping, simmering, browning, and occasionally swearing, before I finally announced that dinner was ready, he also acted as sous chef and chopped a few thousand vegetables/starches.

First: the coq au vin. (Technically I started the soup first so it could simmer, but that was much less complicated and I'm SURE none of you will make my mistake of making both of these at once, anyway.) I used a recipe that was adapted from a recipe - my mother has always used Julia's (that's Julia Child, people - keep up), but I was hoping for one a little less complicated. This one was fully two pages long, but I still feel that it wasn't as challenging as one would expect.

Coq Au Vin
Adapted from The Year in Food, who adapted it from the Amateur Gourmet

4-5 pound chicken, separated by wings, thighs, legs, breasts, rinsed, patted very dry, and generously salted and peppered. (Here’s a demo on carving a chicken.)
4 slices thick-cut bacon [*note from your blogger: your kitchen will smell amazing many times during this process. I strongly encourage a snack beforehand, and probably during.*]

1 bottle dry red wine [*note from your blogger: if you happen to, say, "lose" a small cup during this process...it'll still taste just fine. :) *]
1 cup chicken stock
1 medium yellow onion, chopped
2 carrots, diced
2 tablespoons brandy
1 tablespoon tomato paste
2-3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon fresh thyme, minced
2 tablespoons fresh parsley, minced
1 bay leaf
-
For the garnish:
1 medium yellow onion, chopped   [*note from your blogger: My mother has always used frozen pearl onions here. I think they absorb the flavor better...and as I've mentioned before, I hatehatehate chopping onions. So, I used one bag of frozen pearl onions.*]
12 ounces cremini mushrooms, sliced [*note from your blogger: or just chopped...up to you.*]
2 tablespoons butter
fresh parsley
salt+pepper

1. Place the bacon in a cold Dutch oven or similar large, heavy-bottomed pot. Cook over medium heat, turning as needed, for about ten minutes. You want it to be somewhat browned but retain some of the fat. Don’t cook it to a crisp. Remove the bacon, chop roughly, and set aside.

2. Turn the heat up to medium-high. Give the pot a few minutes to heat more. Have your chicken ready to go. Make sure it’s nice and dry, as this is what you will need in order to get that lovely brown crust when you sear it.
3. Place half the chicken (one each wing, thigh, drumstick, breast) in the pot and leave it alone for about five minutes. To get that crust, you don’t want to jostle the meat at all. After about 5 minutes, flip each piece, and repeat. If it hasn’t developed a really nice brown sear, leave the meat in for a little longer.

4. Take the first batch of chicken from the pot, and repeat step 3 with second half.
5. If you have a lot of excess fat in the pot, spoon the extra out, being careful not to remove any brown bits.
6. Reduce heat to medium, and add a tablespoon of butter. Add the onion and carrot, and saute, stirring some, for about five minutes.
7. Add the tomato paste and stir. Carefully add the cognac/brandy, deglazing the pot with it. Scrape all that yummy stuff from the bottom, and saute for another few minutes to reduce the liquid.
8. Raise the heat a little again, and add the bottle of wine, garlic, thyme, parsley and bay leaf, and bring to a boil.  Simmer until liquid has reduced by half, about 15-20 minutes.
9. Add the bacon and the chicken stock and stir. Reserve 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid for your second batch of onions.
10. Return the chicken to the pot. Amateur Gourmet suggested a certain order, but I didn’t find that necessary. [*note from your blogger: neither did I.*]
11. Cover the pot, reduce the heat to very low on your stove, and simmer, undisturbed, for 45-60 minutes. You want the meat to be incredibly tender, but not quite falling off the bone. (Mine started to fall off the bone, no big deal.)
12. While your chicken is braising, prepare the garnish. Heat one tablespoon butter in a medium pan over a medium flame. Add the onions and saute for about 5 minutes.
13. Add the reserved braising liquid, season to taste with salt and pepper, and saute until most of the liquid has been reduced, about 10 minutes or so. Remove onions from heat and set aside.
14. Add another tablespoon of butter to the pan. Add the mushrooms and saute until the liquid has cooked off, another 10 minutes, roughly. Turn off heat, return onions to the pan, mix together and set aside.

15. Check on the chicken. If it’s ready, turn off heat and skim any fat if necessary. Add the mushrooms and onions to the braise, stir.
16. Ladle this luscious stuff into bowls, garnish with more parsley, and enjoy!
PS: The flavors will improve overnight. [*note from your blogger: and over the next few days. Honestly, it keeps getting better. Especially if, say, you (ahem) accidentally cooked the chicken too long and dried it out...it re-moistens!*]

*****************

Still here? Okay then. Sometimes, you just want a hearty soup that also isn't bad for you. When the recipe makes enough for nearly a week's worth of lunches on a relatively low budget, well, that's just a win all around, unless you don't like vegetables or lentils. In which case, stop reading now.

Still here? Okay. This recipe is also pretty absurdly easy. At least compared to the coq au vin. And it's so satisfying. I looked at the recipe - one this, one that - and thought it didn't seem like enough soup for the effort, so I doubled it. Wellll....let's just say that my pot (NOT the dutch oven, since that was going to be required for the coq au vin) was very nearly overtopped. Turns out this makes more than it seems. The recipe actually said it would make something like 4 servings...I ended up with 10. Ten! However: turns out this both doubles well and freezes well...so it was fine. Full disclosure, though - when you freeze it it comes out looking less colorful and somewhat unappetizing. But it's still delicious!


Hearty Lentil Soup (adapted from AllRecipes)

Ingredients

2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 bunch green onions, chopped
1 leek, sliced
1 carrot, diced
1 parsnip, scrubbed and diced
1 potato, peeled and diced
1 stalk celery, sliced
1 cup dry lentils, rinsed
1 (14.5 ounce) can diced tomatoes
3 cups vegetable stock
2 bay leaves
1 dash soy sauce
2 teaspoons vegetarian Worcestershire sauce [*note from your blogger: not only do I not have vegetarian Worcestershire (huh?), I also completely forgot the Worcestershire of any variety. I think I last minute compensated with extra soy sauce...not sure. Point is, feel free to experiment - this is a very forgiving soup.*]
1/2 cup red wine
1 bunch fresh cilantro, chopped [*note from your blogger: I'm one of those people who hates cilantro...so I skipped it. Didn't seem to me like the soup was missing anything, so your call.*]

Directions
Heat the oil in a large saucepan and mix in the onions, carrot, parsnip, celery, potato, and leek. Stir over a medium heat.
Place lentils, tomatoes, stock, bay leaves, a splash of the soy and Worcestershire sauces and wine in the saucepan. Stir and bring the mixture to a boil. Cover and simmer for 25 to 30 minutes, or until the lentils are cooked.
Remove the bay leaves from the soup. Stir in the cilantro and serve.

Two months? Say it ain't so.

Friends, readers, confused people who ended up here by Googling a power company in Chattanooga. I’ve been neglectful, and I’m sorry. I’ve been “meaning to update” and life, well, it got in the way. Christmas was wonderful but devoid of kitchen time (which makes sense: I was in my mother’s home, after all, and you don’t mess with another woman’s kitchen no matter how much they profess to want you to bake). January…well, it was a month best forgotten.

So! Now we are halfway through February, and so far this month is performing in a satisfactory manner. I’ve got an embarrassing amount of backlog to share – rack of pork, eggplant parmesan, coq au vin, lentil soup – but for today, we’ll go with the Valentine’s recap. My meal last night, courtesy of EPB, isn’t really correct fodder for this particular blog – partially because I had nothing to do with the preparation, but also because the bulk of it was either raw (oysters – EPB learned how to shuck them himself! – and ikura), or else prepared by others (huge steamed Dungeness crabs from Taylor Shellfish, also the source of the oysters - if you watch Bizarre Foods on Travel Channel you may have seen their sourcing farm featured). On a related note, these all go surprisingly well with a dry sparkling rosé.

The part where I did play a hand, though: the dessert, where I made the easiest chocolate fondue in the world. Seriously.

Like many of my easy-and-impressive finds, this came from Real Simple…and really lived up to the magazine’s name (not everything does, people. For serious).


Chocolate Bar Fondue
courtesy of Real Simple
Serves 8 // Hands-on Time: 20m // Total Time: 20m

Ingredients

· 3/4 cup heavy cream
· 1 pound milk or dark chocolate, broken into pieces (*note from your blogger: I reduced the recipe since there were only two of us, but the ratio was 4:1 dark:milk chocolate. Delicious.*)
· 1 pint fresh strawberries
· 1 store-bought angel food cake, cut into 1-inch pieces
· 8 ounces dried fruit, such as pineapple slices and figs (*note from your blogger: I used fresh pineapple…simply because the store had it in cut tubs. Use whatever you want that is handy and simple.*)

Directions

1. In a small saucepan, over low heat, warm the cream and chocolate. Stir until the chocolate melts. (*Note from your blogger: Be patient – it will seem too cool to possibly work at first, but then suddenly it will all start to go at once – keep stirring!*) Transfer the fondue to a serving bowl. (*Note from your blogger: I transferred to an actual fondue pot…which led to complications, as I couldn’t get the sterno to stay at a low enough temperature to keep the fondue from boiling without the flame going out. There were a few rounds of relighting…but in the end it worked out fine.)

2. Serve immediately with forks or the like for dipping strawberries, angel food cake, and dried fruit.

It was crazy good and alarmingly easy. Alarming, you say? Indeed. It took next to no time to make, and involved two (inexpensive) ingredients. Plus: if I used entirely dark chocolate and fresh fruit I could easily delude myself into it being a healthy treat. This is not a good thing. So, chefs: consider yourselves warned, and enjoy!

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.