In Which She Finds Salad to be More Her Liking.

Pear Almond Upside-Down Cake

To put it mildly, writing this past year has been a struggle. During the past several months, I’ve had to wade through the cobwebs of my mind for a bit of inspiration. It’s been a bit frustrating and has at times left me feeling somewhat forlorn.

Enter: Summer Fruit.

Being a city gal no dirt call her own, I get my perishables from the Farmer’s market, brick-and-mortar, and a bit of foraging. In Summer months, I’ve got dear friends and family who generously share with me a bit of their harvest.

This year, it seemed to come all at once. Tomatoes, pears, plums. The kind of fruit that requires one to be ready for action. Needless to say, I produced several small-batch wonders.

~An orgasmic caramel-vanilla pear butter

~A zippy plum chutney

~Blushing strawberry preserves.

And then the cakes…I have made several over the past couple of weeks. I’ll debate anyone who disagrees with me that cake is a perfectly acceptable stand-in at breakfast. Add some eggs, or plain yogurt, and there you have it: a complete meal. My favorite cake as of late is a variation on this olive-oil ricotta cake in which I substituted some cornmeal for part of the flour.

But what’s carried me through this past week and sustained me throughout the long hours and hectic days is a hearty dish of my own genesis. I was perusing the internet and reading a post on grain salads in one of the Food52 columns, which got me thinking about my pantry. Needless to say, it had been a while since I’d done any serious shopping and my cupboards a bit paltry, however I had a bit of red rice tucked away, along with some coconut chips, from which sparked an interest in a salad fleck with toasted coconut and pistachios, and a kaleidoscope of colorful veggies, complemented with a spicy ginger miso dressing.

This salad was so bright and hearty, the pistachios flecking about like little green jewels. It’s appealing on a multi-sensory level. I ate it for several days running.

I imagine this salad would easily lend itself to substitution, say; wild or brown rice, farro, wheat berries or another grain. Ditto that for the pistachios. The key is to let the grains cool thoroughly before combining them with other ingredients. I like to line a pan with parchment and pour the grains out onto the parchment to let the excess moisture evaporate before mixing with the other components.

Buddha’s Salad

I’m calling it “Buddha’s Salad,” because, well…it feels appropriate.

Enjoy, and much love,

Buddha’s Salad

3 c. cooked red rice (or sub another grain)

2 c shredded red cabbage

1 c shredded carrot

1/2 c. finely sliced green onion (green parts only)

1/2 c. fresh cilantro

1 c. toasted coconut chips

1/2 c toasted pistachios

For the dressing:

1/4 c rice vinegar

2 tbsp miso paste, more to taste

3 tbsp olive oil

1 tbsp sesame oil

1 tbsp tamari

1 tbsp grated ginger (I often cheat and use the Ginger People brand grated ginger)

1/2 tsp red chile flakes

Whisk together all of the dressing ingredients; toss with salad mains to coat. Eat with exuberance.

Forced Recreation.

Where have you been, Beautiful Wallflower?

Ahh, there’s a question…

I enjoy telling my story through pictures, because an image can capture the emotion of the moment; it can both affect and effect. It’s communicating to the world from the lens of the observer. Images become indelible memories of experience, of time.

Tender, vulnerable, revealing.

A fine way to get to know someone, really.

In the past month, I have attended festivals

Made more baked goods than a girl probably should

Ran faster than the wind

Sought comfort and rejuvenation with friends

Celebrated birthdays and milestones

And sequestered myself with a cold…

As my inbox gets bombarded with loads of good things to create, my neighborhood filled with new restaurants to try, I am still called to the kitchen, with a yearning to create. I’ve been baking my way through Zoe Nathan’s Huckleberry, annotating what changes I’ve either made, or need to make, to ensure success the next time around. PicFrame

I’ve made at least four (five?) recipes now, and continue to be inspired by the gorgeous photography and straightforward directions.

Zoe has reignited my love of the teacake, that perfect excuse for a sit-down with a good cuppa something steamy.

I was inspired to make a citrus-fennel cake recently, a variation of her lemon kumquat poppy teacake.

I had a fragrant Cara Cara orange on hand that was begging to be put to use, and I always have several lemons at the ready. But fennel! I don’t know why it came so strongly to mind, however the subtle anise-like flavor seemed just the right thing pair with the citrus.

And holy mackerel! This is by far one of the best cakes i’ve made in a while. The crumb, dense and buttery, was exactly what one might expect from a proper tea/pound cake. The flavor, so citrus-y and bright; the toasted bits of crushed fennel rounding out the experience better than I could have imagined.

This recipe will be in regular rotation, for sure.

Citrus-Fennel Tea Cake

Inspired by Zoe Nathan’s Lemon Kumquat Poppy Teacake

Ingredients:

1 c butter, at room temperature

1 c sugar

1/2 tsp salt

zest and juice of one large lemon and one orange, separated (~1/4-1/3 cup juice)

2 whole eggs and 2 egg yolks

2 tsp vanilla

2 tbsp heavy cream

1.5 c flour

1.5 tsp baking soda

1 tbsp fennel seeds, lightly smashed

4 tbsp sugar

Method:

Preaheat oven to 350 degrees fahrenheit.

Butter a 9×5 inch loaf pan. I like to line the pan with parchment, which eases removal of cake from the pan.

Using your fingers, massage sugar and zest together until fragrant. Add to mixing bowl with the butter and salt.

Mix at medium speed until fluffy and light; about 2-3 minutes, scraping down sides of bowl periodically.

Sift baking powder and fennel seeds into flour; set aside.

Whisk together eggs, egg yolks, vanilla and cream.

With mixer on low-medium speed, slowly drizzle egg mixture into creamed butter and sugar. Mix on medium speed for ~1 minute.

Add flour and mix just until combined; no more than ~10 seconds. It’s okay if there are still bits of unincorporated flour; simply fold into batter with spatula.

Scoop dough into prepared pan and bake for ~60 minutes. Cake is fully baked when an inserted knife or toothpick comes out clean. Let rest 10 minutes, then remove from pan and set on a cooling rack.

While cake is baking, prepare the glaze: in a small saucepan, combine juice and sugar. bring to a boil, whisking while the sugar dissolves, turn heat down or a minute and allow the juice to reduce, just a bit. Brush over top and sides of warm cake.

Enjoy, and much love,

…and it was like she never left.

In a more relaxed moment, I found myself scrolling through pictures and finding several that were part of a vision unfolding; scenes I’d meant to post and then got waylaid by frenetic holidays and activities that were heartfelt and fulfilling, yet left me a bit emotionally spent.

Savory Bread Pudding with Wilted Chard and Mushrooms

With the new year, and clear(er) vision, I’ve created goals and aspirations, and been taking steps toward achieving them. All well and good, however it’s so important that I get lost in the process of Being at least for a small amount of time daily.

And the truth is that I haven’t dedicated time to my craft; writing about my experience, that spark that ignites when I have an idea and run with it. That bit of cleverness and openness; that flexibility that comes (truly) from an aversion to running back out into the cold for another stick of butter, fruit or cream.

Poached Pear and Almond Tart

It’s time to get back on the proverbial horse. Writing, creating, sharing and remembering these experiences are an essential aspect of my self-expression. It gives me great joy to make beautiful food and share it with friends and family.

Pork Dumplings (Star Anise-Scented Broth)

Raspberry Balsamic Preserves

I’ve included a few visual samplings of things made recently that are worthy of a nod.

And so when overcome by the need for a bit of something sweet, I consulted past repertoire for this salted almond and honey pie.

Being a fan of tiny things, I thought I’d make tartlets, so as to enjoy and share more readily. I filled half of the tartlets with honey custard, and the remaining with homemade raspberry balsamic preserves; the latter lovingly gathered from my father’s garden this past summer.

Recipes for pâte sucrée (aka: tart crust) abound on the internet, however I’ll include a simple recipe that I’ve been using reliably for some time. Feel free to let the imagination go wild with the fillings. These baked up nicely in a 375-degree oven in ~40 minutes.

Enjoy, and much love.

Pâte Sucrée

1 1/4 cup flour

1/3 cup powdered sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup butter, very cold, cut into cubes

1 egg yolk

ice water, as needed

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Pulse dry ingredients in a food processor, or combine well in a large bowl.

Add butter and either process or use a pastry blender to cut into flour just until the mixture resembles fine peas.

Add egg yolk and pulse or mix until combined.

Add just enough water (no more than a tablespoon) to bring mixture to a somewhat cohesive mass; it should still be a bit crumbly.

Allow to rest in the refrigerator for at least 1-2 hours, or overnight.

Press into well-buttered tart pan(s) and fill as desired.

Bake filled tartlets until set, ~40 minutes

Obsessed with Autumn.

There’ve been countless good things coming out of my kitchen lately. Probably too many to mention, however I’m tempted to give it a go, if only for future inspiration. The past month I’ve been doing more living, experiencing, tasting, loving; and I haven’t felt much interest in writing about food.

However, with a trove of inspiration swirling around in my head, I thought I’d share with you.

I made this incredible pear and buttermilk upside-down cake that would knock your socks off:

I followed David Leibovitz’ direction to tuck thin slivers of garlic and anchovies into a lamb shoulder, which was later roasted to perfection, and served it with a mixed root vegetable mash and possibly the best pan gravy I’ve ever had. I elevated it to the sublime with a preserved lemon, olive and parsley relish. I know I’ve done well when I find myself audibly moaning with satisfaction in the midst of my workday lunch. No apologies.

And then there was this little gem of an idea found in Amy Pennington’s cookbook Urban Pantry. I could feel my eyes widening with anticipation at the apple quince butter, and was instantly inspired. I started calling around the local markets for quince, and made not one, but two batches, modestly adapted, richly spiced, and perfectly sweetened. I’d planned to follow with a persimmon-pear butter, however after two days of first degree burns from boiling fruit, I’ve given myself the week off.

Moving on…

With several persimmon on hand and in need of some baking therapy, I set out to make this beauty:

Having leftover buttermilk on hand, I added it to the cake, along with persimmon purée, and the resultant cake came out ultra moist. I also folded in preserved walnuts and chopped persimmon to give the cake a bit of texture. A straightforward swap for regular walnuts would be equally satisfying; however the preserved walnuts are reminiscent of candied fruit, their bittersweet flavor complements the cake well. Easily justified for breakfast with a bit of yogurt, not that one needs an excuse to eat cake.

Enjoy, and much love,

Persimmon and Walnut Cake

Note: I prefer the taste of hachiya persimmon over fuyu, as the fuyu tends to have a bit of a chalky, bitter aftertaste. Use ripe persimmon in this recipe; ones that have a bit of give when pressed.

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking powder

3/4 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon cloves

1/2 teaspoon ginger

1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup butter

1 1/2 c sugar

1 tsp lemon zest

3 eggs

3 persimmon (purée two of the persimmon; chop and set aside the remaining)

1 cup buttermilk, or plain yogurt

1/2 cup preserved walnuts, chopped, or 1/2 cup plain walnuts

Method:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Butter a medium-sized bundt pan, or a regular 9×9 pan.

Combine dry ingredients in a medium-sized bowl; set aside.

In a stand mixer, combine butter and sugar. Cream until light, ~5 minutes. Add lemon zest.

Add eggs, one at a time, mix well.

Add pureed persimmon and combine.

Alternate addition of flour and buttermilk, adding one half of each at a time. Mix just until incorporated.

Fold in chopped persimmon and walnuts.

Pour into prepared pan and bake for ~40 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean.

Allow to cool for ~5 minutes in pan, then invert and cool completely on cooling rack.

This cake will keep for 3-4 days at room temperature, however I don’t anticipate it’ll last that long.

Proofed.

Lest I forget, I love to cook, and it seems that lately I’ve chosen to stay in and dedicate more time to the therapeutic experience of my craft. It’s an art, and a practice, and I’m thankful when I am able to tap into that creative vein. It rarely disappoints.

Right now, my home is filled with the heady, yeasted scent of freshly baked bread. It’s quite heavenly. I’d been wanting to make bread ever since the changing of seasons; there’s something really wholesome and nourishing about the craft of baking that attracts me. I’ve started to pay more attention to the precision of baking, I’m learning when I can get away with approximations, and when a bit more accuracy is required.

I’d had a somewhat successful attempt last week baking cinnamon bread, however my yeast was a bit past-date. Needless to say, my bread was a tad more dense than I would have preferred. The dough, however; rich with butter and eggs…I’ll definitely have to give it another go sometime.

With yeasted bread in mind, I perused several cookbooks and was seduced by a recipe for fougasse, unsurprisingly from David Lobovitz’ My Paris Kitchen. It’s a lovely, leaf-shaped bread that relies on the basics of any good yeasted bread really; flour, salt, yeast, water, and lends itself to endless variations. In David’s version, he adds chocolate, hazelnut and dried sour cherries. It was the cherries that caught my attention and found me digging through the pantry to see if I still had a few cherries on hand. I usually pair cherries with almonds, and rather than venture out in search of hazelnuts, I modified the recipe to suit my taste. Cardamom was requisite, as it has been making an appearance in several dishes I’ve prepared lately, both savory and sweet.

I’ve chosen not to rewrite the recipe with such modest adaptations. Rather, my intent is to demonstrate and to encourage one to not be limited by the dictates of a recipe in print, to give oneself permission to adapt, to be flexible and just…do it.

It’s kind of a recipe for life, really.

You’ll likely be able to find a recipe for the fougasse online, however I highly recommend picking up a copy of David’s book. It’s a trove of inspiration, visually appealing, peppered with personal experience, salted with wit and wry humor.

Enjoy, and much love,

Tossed.

I’m sharing this recipe partly for my own selfish ends, as I am not feeling super loquacious. I’d say it’s the change in seasons, which is perhaps a half-truth, however of late I’ve been balancing the need for some self-imposed downtime with the equally necessary and soulful need to Just. Show. Up.

For the latter, I’ve managed to keep (most) commitments and remain accountable in both my professional and personal life, as well as build in the requisite training runs that keep my brain happy.

I like to think I am fairly skilled at feeding myself; I can put together something basic on the fly, however lately my creativity has been lacking. I spent the last two days sifting through two of my favorite cookbooks, looking for ways to incorporate fennel into my meals, as I seem to be drawn to it lately. I made a fennel, pear, ginger and lemon juice that was pretty amazing, however I was looking for something a bit more toothsome, and came across a recipe for saffron orange chicken and herb salad that intrigued me.

I had an orange, partially zested, that was begging to be put to good use, and then picked up a couple of other things that I thought would fit nicely. The recipe involved cooking the orange, peel and all, along with a bit of honey and saffron for a length of time, then folding in the chicken and serving along with fresh slivered fennel and a bit of herbs and a lemon-garlic vinaigrette of sorts. I limit my flirtation with garlic whenever possible, so I decided to tailor the recipe a bit differently, to suit my taste, and my pantry. Given that I’d forgotten to grab some saffron, I cooked the orange with a pinch of fennel and coriander seeds. I had a bit of cilantro languishing in the back of my refrigerator, so I plucked the best greens and mixed them with some fresh mint leaves. The chicken I purchased cooked from the deli, so there was really little work to do. I added a bit of avocado and a drizzle of olive oil to give it a boost of healthy fats and needless today, it was one of the most satisfying meals I’ve had in some time.

This is a dish that bears repeating, so I’ll share it with you, and keep it on file for those days I’m in need of a bit of kitchen inspiration. I’m going to try something a bit different here, by incorporating the method into the ingredient list. If you end up giving it a try, I’d love to know how the recipe worked for you.

–

Enjoy, and much love,

–

Fennel, Chicken and Avocado Salad with Spiced Orange Dressing

Inspired by Yotam Ottolenghi’s Jerusalem recipe for Saffron Chicken and Herb Salad

–

1 orange, cut into 8 slices

2 1/2 tablespoons honey

1 1/4 cup water

1/4 tsp fennel seed

1/2 teaspoon coriander seed

1/2 teaspoon red chili flakes

**Bring the above ingredients to boil in a small saucepan, then turn down to a slow simmer and allow to cook for ~1h, adding water if needed. You’ll want a few tablespoons of liquid with the oranges to keep from burning.

–

While the orange is cooking, prepare the salad:

Thinly slice 1 large or 2 small fennel bulbs (I used a mandolin) and set in a bowl. Massage the fennel briefly with ~1 tablespoon of olive oil, along with healthy pinch of salt and a few grinds of pepper. Add ~8 oz of shredded, cooked chicken breast, a small handful (~1/4 cup each) of cilantro and mint to the bowl, leaving a few tablespoons of herbs aside for the final garnish. Slice 1/4 large or 1/2 small avocado and set aside with reserved herbs.

–

Puree the orange with the juice of 1/2 lemon, adding 1-2 tablespoons of water if needed so that the end product is the consistency of a loose compote. Add ~1/2 of the compote to the salad bowl and toss to combine. Garnish with avocado and reserved herbs, and season with additional salt and pepper to taste.

Double Dipping.

Frequently I’ll start a conversation with my dear friend Lisa like “Hey, what should I do with this?”, to which she’ll barely glance upward as she rattles off a response. Last week’s question was answered with one word: clafoutis.

I’ve made many (well, a few) custards over the years, however I had not been acquainted with the velvety, not quite cake, yet not entirely custard concoction of French origin. An internet search yielded countless recipes, some containing shocking amounts of butter and eggs, others with lengthy ingredient lists, to more demure and simple recipes. Some called for flour, others did not. Several recipes recommend letting the batter rest overnight, which makes sense; the liquid absorbs some of the flour, improving the texture.

I set it all aside for a bit and steeped some bay leaves in cream and milk.

In My Paris Kitchen, David Lebovitz writes that “…we’ve become more and more dependent on recipes to tell us each and every detail, so we don’t have to think for ourselves. Or we’ve somehow become afraid to trust our own instincts”. I get that. I rarely follow a recipe verbatim, rather I use them as a template, a starting point. and then cook with instinct. It’s how I’ve learned what works, and what doesn’t.

I imagined that blueberries would pair well with the nutmeg-like flavor of bay leaves, and I still had remnants from my last trip to the farm on hand, so I used them in my first go-round. Needless to say, it was a stunner and was enjoyed by many at a party the following night. I reluctantly deposited what remained in my dear friend’s kitchen and was already dreaming up another variation on the way home.

Blueberry and Peach Clafoutis

The next generation involved cornmeal intermingled with honey and lemon-verbena-scented custard. This batter held a coarser consistency, however once baked, the cornmeal coalesced into soft and spongy cream-soaked layer, reminiscent of graham crackers in milk. Extremely comforting. Tart blackberries complemented the wild honey and kept it bright and easy to justify eating pretty much any time of day.

Which is exactly what I did.

Honey Cornmeal and Lemon Verbena Clafoutis

Enjoy, and much love.

She Bakes Sweetly

Serving up delicious with Instinct and Heart

In Which She Finds Salad to be More Her Liking.

Forced Recreation.

…and it was like she never left.

Obsessed with Autumn.

Proofed.

Tossed.

Double Dipping.

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