recipe file of dreams

bread baking 2

2007-07-11T07:46:00.001-07:00

Announcing BBD #2: Bread with Fruit

If there’s one thing that’s in season all around the world right now, it’s fruit. Here in the Northern Hemisphere, we’re enjoying berries, peaches, and all of the goodness summer has to offer. Our friends in the Southern Hemisphere aren’t quite as lucky - since it is winter there, their fruit choices are more limited, and they’re enjoying winter fruits and preserved (frozen, canned, dried) fruit. In the grand scheme, though, everyone can access fruit in one form or another.

One thing that we all have in common is our passion for baking. And this month, I’d like you to include fruit in your bread recipes. It can be any kind of bread (yeast, quick, etc) and any kind or form of fruit (fresh, dried, preserves, etc). So the guidelines are simple. It has to be a bread and it has to have fruit in some form. Let your creativity guide you! Use your farmers markets for inspiration. Most of all, have fun and bake something delicious!

How to participate?
Bake a bread with fruit, take pictures (if possible) and blog about it between now and Sunday, 1st of August 2007. Please include a link to this announcement and eventually a link to the round-up. The round-up will be posted in a few days after the 1st of August.

Send an email to columbusfoodie(at)gmail(dot)com with the subject “BBD #2″ including
- your name
- your blog’s name and your blog’s URL
- the recipe name and the post’s URL
- your location
- for non-English posts, the language it is in
- if you’d like a pic included with your submission, please include it in the email. I can resize it.

–

I believe that Zorra is still looking for people to host, so if you would like to host one of the next breadbakingday, send me an e-mail to kochtopf (at) gmail (dot) com.

Also, please feel free to use the banner in your posts, which mgb was so kind to make. Just right click on it to save it.

SHF 33

2007-07-11T07:45:00.000-07:00

Sugar High Friday 33

I'm proud to host the 33rd edition of Sugar High Friday "Tropical Paradise". Domestic Goddess Jennifer, the originator of Sugar High Friday, kicked off the food blogosphere's travelling sweet tooth extravaganza in October 2004. Since her inaugural white chocolate theme to her dessert cravings last month, we've seen all sorts of sugary goodness made from puff pastry to coffee to soy to flowers.

The rules are simple: Make it sweet and make it tropical. So whether you live in a tropical locale, are relaxed and tan from a recent tropical vacation, or just daydreaming of one, create something sweet and write about why it says "tropical" to you.

Please post your SHF #33 Tropical Paradise creation on your blog anytime between now and Monday July 23th. I will post the SHF round-up on Friday, July 27th.

Email your submission to me at

Please include the following information:
1. Your name and location
2. The name of your blog
3. The permalink to your SHF #33 post
4. 100x100 pixel image of your creation (photo is optional)

The deadline for emailing your submission to me is Tuesday, July 24th.

No blog? No problem. Just email me your name and location, the name of your tropical creation and, if you have one, a 100x100 image. I'll be happy to include your submission in my round-up.

mascarpone lasagna (once upon a tart)

2007-07-02T11:45:00.000-07:00

mascarpone lasagne for the lazy cook

if you are an italian, you might wanna chop off both my hands and legs, if you read this recipe. this is a recipe for the lazy cook. a lasagne that is pulled together in about 15 minutes ("impossibile!", you might shout). let me mention, that it is - probably not italian - but really good and creamy. the parma ham and the porchinis add a wonderful spicy flavour and make this a wonderful comfort dish, that's done in a dash.
i do it all without a white sauce, but use mascarpone instead (easy, no cookin'!). even though it's not friday yet, it is my contribution for this weeks presto pasta night, hosted by the lovely ruth. girls - now do we like lazy lasagne nor not?

RECIPE

2 tablespoons of olive oil
2 shallots, finely diced
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
a hand full of dried porchinis, soaked in hot water
about 800g of canned plum tomatoes
a pinch of sugar
salt and freshly ground pepper
a hand full of fresh basil, roughly chopped
250g fresh pasta sheets
5 slices of parma ham
250g mascarpone
about 300g mozzarella, torn in pieces
some parmesan cheese, for "dusting"
fresh basil, to garnish

heat the oven to 190 c°.

heat the olive oil in a pan and cook shallots and garlic until soft, add porchinis and cook for about 2 minutes. then add the plum tomatoes, season with sugar, salt and pepper and simmer for about 15 minutes, then add the chopped basil.
lightly oil a large dish, then add a layer of tomato sauce, then add some of the mozzarella, cover generously with mascarpone and grate some parmesan cheese on top. add layer of parma ham, then cover with fresh pasta sheets. continue - finishing with a layer of tomato sauce, then add some mascarpone & mozzarella. generously season with freshly ground pepper.

bake for about 40 minutes until everything is melted and fragrant. dust with some more parmesan before serving and garnish with fresh basil.

rhubarb brulee tarts (a whisk and a spoon)

2007-07-02T11:41:00.001-07:00

Rhubarb Brûlée Tartlettes with Ginger - makes 6 servings
adapted from Regan Daley’s In the Sweet Kitchen

6 (4 1/2 -inch) pâte brisée tartlette shells, pre-baked, cooled and left in their forms
1 1/2 T redcurrant or plum jelly
2 scant T finely chopped crystallized ginger
1/2 cup turbinado sugar for brûlée

for the rhubarb:
3/4 pound rhubarb stalks, washed, trimmed and cut into 3-inch lengths
1/4 cup plus 1 T packed light brown sugar

for the custard:
2 cups heavy cream
1/2 vanilla bean, split and scraped
4 egg yolks
1/4 cup plus 1 T granulated sugar
1 T unsalted butter, cut into bits
pinch of salt

- For the rhubarb: Place the cut rhubarb and light brown sugar into a pot over low heat. Cover and cook (gently stirring a few times) for 5 to 10 minutes until the rhubarb is tender, but still holds shape. Drain and cool the rhubarb to room temperature before using, or refrigerate if making ahead. Either discard the juice from the drained rhubarb, or reduce it to syrup consistency if desired for plating.

- For the custard: Set up a water bath by bringing about two inches of water to a simmer in a large pot and setting a heatproof bowl on top. Pour cream into a separate small saucepan and add the pinch of salt and the seeds and pod from the vanilla bean. Pot the pot on medium heat to scald the cream. Put the yolks and sugar in the bowl set over the gently simmering water bath. While cream is heating, constantly whisk the yolk mixture over the water bath. When cream is scalded and the yolk mixture is thick and pale, temper the cream into the yolks. Leave the mixture over the water bath, stirring constantly with a spoon until it thickly coats the back. This will take 5 to 7 minutes. Strain the custard through a fine sieve and stir in the butter until melted and incorporated. Press plastic onto the surface to avoid a skin and refrigerate until cool.

- Assembling the tartlettes: Preheat the oven to 325°F/170°C. Place the tartlette shells on a flat baking sheet. Gently melt the jelly and brush the bottoms of the shells with a thin layer. Spoon a couple of tablespoons of cooked rhubarb into the shells and smooth out. Divide the chopped ginger among the shells and spoon custard on top. If desired, place a few nicely shaped pieces of rhubarb across the top. Bake for 25 to 30 minutes. The filling should be a little jiggly in the center, but slightly set around the edges. Cool the tarts on a rack (the custard will further set). Place in the refrigerator if not eating within two hours (although you should not prepare them more than five hours in advance, according to Daley).

- To serve: Remove the tartlettes from their shells and sprinkle on the turbinado sugar. Using a kitchen torch, melt and caramelize the sugar. If you have placed some rhubarb on top of the tarts like I did, sprinkle sugar and brûlée AROUND the exposed pieces. They will burn if you torch them. Serve immediately with the rhubarb syrup, if using.

chocolate cherry cafloutis - la tartine gourmande

2007-06-28T10:43:00.000-07:00

Chocolate and Cherry Clafoutis

(For 4 individual clafoutis)

You need:

14 oz cherries
2 large eggs
3/8 cup whole milk
1.5 Tbsp cornstarch
2 Tbsp all-purpose flour
2 oz dark chocolate at 65 or 70 % cocoa, as you prefer
4 Tbsp butter
2.5 Tbsp cane sugar
Confectioner’s sugar, to sprinkle

Steps:

In a bowl, mix 1 egg with 1 Tbsp sugar and add the milk. Add 1 Tbsp sifted flour and keep on the side.
Melt the butter and chocolate in a double-boiler.
Beat 1 egg with the rest of the sugar until pale in color.
Add the rest of flour and cornstarch. Mix well.
Add the butter/chocolate and mix well. At this point, you will mix the two preparations together.
Preheat your oven at 350 F.
Take 4 individual baking molds and grease them.
Wash the cherries and remove the stalks (or not) and arrange them at the bottom of the molds.
Divide the cream between them and place in the oven for 20 min remove and let cool slightly.
When ready to serve, sprinkle with confectioner’s sugar.

cherry upside-down cake (cook and eat)

2007-06-21T12:04:00.001-07:00

Cherry Upside Down Cake
makes one 5 inch cake

2 cups fresh cherries, pitted
1 t dried orange zest
1 t sugar
a sprinkling of cardamom
Génoise cake batter, 1/2 recipe
powdered sugar to dust, if desired

Preheat oven to 350F.

Line a 5 inch round or 5 x 4 inch rectangular baking pan with the pitted cherries. Sprinkle with the orange zest, sugar and cardamom. Set aside.

Prepare the cake batter. Once folded all together, pour about 1 cup over the cherries, and give them a little stir to prevent air pockets from forming. Top with the remaining batter.

Bake for 30 minutes, or until the cake bounces back when lightly touched. Let it cool on a wire rack.

Use a knife to cut around the edge of the cake to release it from the pan. You may need to use a flexible spatula to loosen the bottom some to help remove it. Place the serving plate on top of the baking pan, and then flip the whole thing over.

To improve this cakes appearance for serving, trim off the edges of the cake, exposing the golden-yellow sponge and the piece of cherry. Dust with the powdered sugar if desired.

Out of a Packing Box, Not Stuff, but Souls

2007-06-21T09:04:00.001-07:00

June 21, 2007

Close to Home

By LINDSEY CRITTENDEN

I WAS initiated young into the cult of clutter. Opening a drawer in my childhood kitchen meant finding birthday cards sticky from a leaking pen, a recipe for moussaka never made, bits of yarn and a Hot Wheels car missing a door. Occasionally, my mother attempted organization by topic (Vacation Ideas, Children’s Vaccinations, Restaurants to Try), but she never got hanging files, so the folders slipped and slid over one another. Dad had a secretary at work to organize his papers, and at home he directed seasonal weekend purges that inevitably threw Barbies out with the bath water.

Years later, my mother continued to reprimand him for discarding my Malibu Skipper and Francie. She didn’t care about the potential “fortune he’d thrown away,” as she put it; it was the principle of the matter. How could he have tossed his daughter’s dolls? After all, she had kept her favorite, circa 1934: a porcelain creature with patches of scratchy woolen hair and hinged joints that made her heavy limbs flop creepily against my skin when I picked her up.

I’d be different, I vowed. And I was. Once I was living on my own, I favored a streamlined Scandinavian aesthetic, relegating clutter to the past, to my childhood bedroom with its Charlie the Tuna lamp and dusty seashells. And yet my vow was based — however unconsciously — on the knowledge that those items would stay with Mom and Dad, who would always be there.

And then, a year ago, I bought my first home. On moving day I stood at the top of the stairs to direct the flow of boxes and furniture, most of which I’d acquired during 20 years of apartment living but much of which I’d inherited from my parents, who had both died during the past few years. By 4 p.m. I was toasting the view of San Francisco Bay with a glass of wine and fantasizing about which object would go where. I imagined unpacking and arranging as the most intentional and pleasing of tasks, in which I would lovingly place each treasure in just the right spot. Finally, after two decades of rentals, I had a place that was all mine, to do with as I pleased.

But first, I had a deadline for a book. The boxes would have to wait. I cleared enough space for a laptop and a cup of coffee and a pathway to the bed, shower and stove, and got to work.

For two months, I lived in the present, happily, productively, eight to nine hours a day. The boxes served as background, neither impediment nor distraction, just something I’d turn to in time. I made my deadline and went away for a few weeks.

When I returned, the boxes were still there. But now they gave off the stink of Sisyphean obligation. Waking in the morning to the prospect of unpacking, I’d feel torpor drape over me like a lead apron. I’d lift an item — a teacup, a needlepoint pillow reading “This Mess Is a Place” — and aimlessly wander the room before placing it back in the box. In my parents’ cupboards, three generations of teacups had felt earned, necessary, part of the past I wanted to keep. But now they felt like more than I knew what to do with.

One day I turned to Photos & Stuff, six boxes labeled in my father’s chicken scratch. I reached for the box cutter, but the cardboard was so soft that the flaps almost fell apart in my hands as I started sneezing from the dust. These were old boxes, the contents in no particular order.

The year of my birth seemed as good an organizational device as any, so I made two piles, Before 1961 and After 1961, and draped a Hefty bag over a chair for trash. Most decisions came easily. I didn’t need two pictures of blurry pink bougainvillea against a whitewashed wall, or 10 shots of my nephew with his chubby fist in his first birthday cake. But the accumulated glimpses — Mom’s smile, Dad’s eyes crinkled in laughter — added up and, after 10 minutes, I was worn out.

I was halfway through a roll from a trip my parents had taken to Grand Teton National Park in 1995, flinging scenic vista after scenic vista into the Hefty bag, when my hand stopped. A shot of a wooden chapel on the edge of a field glorious with lupine. I recognized the scene from a moment of family lore: in 1970 my brother, then 3, had walked into that empty chapel to recite the Lord’s Prayer without prompt. He’d died in 1994, the year before Mom returned to the spot and took the photo.

I wasn’t just the person deciding which pile it went into; I was the only person alive who understood why it had been taken in the first place. If I threw it away, I was throwing away layers of emotion and association and identity. And if I kept it, well what then? The clutter of my childhood had never gone away; it had just been packed up to land smack-dab in my present, where I had to deal with it alone. Sure, I’d bought the place and chosen the paint colors and the fabric to reupholster dad’s favorite chairs, but suddenly, untenably, my space no longer felt all mine. I threw the Hefty bag in the trash and shoved the Photos & Stuff back in the hall closet.

A week later my friend Eva came over, and we pulled everything out of the hall closet, including Photos & Stuff (as well as a television remote I’d given up for gone and 40 years of Christmas ornaments and the backpack found in my brother’s car after he died). With Eva at my side, I opened a box with curiosity more than dread and handed her my brother’s obituary, my parents’ wedding invitation.

“Your brother was so handsome,” she said. I reached in again, lifting out a manila folder on which Mom had written my name; in it, she’d kept every clipping from every reading I’d ever given. And then my fingers brushed something furry: the needlepoint pillow reading “This Mess Is a Place.” I must have stashed it here that day I found it. Now I recalled it hanging from a cabinet door in my childhood kitchen. I held it up, making a face.

Eva met my eyes. She too had lost both parents. She too was the only surviving child.

“I have my father’s polyester pajamas,” she said. “I can’t bear to throw them out, but what are you supposed to do with blue polyester pajamas? They were the last thing he wore before he went to the hospital.”

I looked around the room as if for the first time. Not the way I saw it when the real estate broker showed it to me, but with the boxes finally cleared away. My mother would never see how good her farm table looked on my new rug, but there it sat. My father had never climbed the stairs to exclaim, “This is wonderful, honey,” although I’d heard his voice say that many times. My brother would never stand by my side on the deck, pointing at the north tower of the Golden Gate Bridge and explaining just how he made it to the top.

“Come to Colorado next summer,” Eva said. She and her husband had recently bought an adobe farmhouse in the mountains. “Bring your photos. I’ve got my mother’s. We’ll go through them. We’ll tell each other the stories.”

Old MacDonald Now Has a Book Contract

2007-06-20T07:58:00.001-07:00

June 20, 2007

By DANA BOWEN

JOHN PETERSON is not your typical farmer. He is prone to wearing feather boas while driving his tractor and to putting on a bumblebee suit and breaking into interpretive dance between rows of organic vegetables. And while some farmers hunker down with seed catalogs in the off-season, Mr. Peterson takes a sabbatical from his farm, Angelic Organics, in Caledonia, Ill., and spends the winter in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, writing as often as he can. Over the years he has written plays, short stories, a cookbook and a newsletter that he sends to his customers.

While his sideline may seem unusual, it places Mr. Peterson smack in the middle of an emerging literary movement: farmers who write. Their work encompasses a wide range of styles, from the homespun, mimeographed zine Farm News (which Sean Whalen, a Vermont farmer, seems to bang out on a malfunctioning vintage typewriter) to the polished op-ed page pieces sent out from Wes Jackson’s nonprofit advocacy group, the Land Institute.

Many of these writers say they are responding to the increased public appetite for food’s back story. As they reveal their personalities, histories and insights, they bridge the distance between the people who grow food and the people who eat it. It’s no coincidence that many of these writers operate small or midsize farms and sell directly to the public, either through farmers’ markets or community-supported agriculture programs, or C.S.A.’s, in which customers purchase shares of a farm’s harvest.

In a phone interview from his apartment in Mexico, Mr. Peterson said that the newsletters helped him nurture his relationship with the 1,300 families who buy his produce. After he lost much of his family’s farm in Illinois, it was the members of the C.S.A. he formed years later who rose up to help restore it. (This story is told in a documentary, “The Real Dirt on Farmer John,” which opens nationally on Friday.) But those newsletters also gave him a creative outlet, he said; a way of reconciling his artistic bent with his love of farming.

“For me, farming is drama,” he said. “Writing about it is just another way to be in the agricultural experience.”

Publishers have picked up on this trend. “We’re in a farm phase,” said Maria Guarnaschelli, an editor at W. W. Norton. Given the success of recent books about the food chain like “The Omnivore’s Dilemma,” by Michael Pollan, she said, it made sense that readers would go straight to the source and start reading the works of farmers.

Ms. Guarnaschelli is working on a book with Andy Griffin, a farmer in Watsonville, Calif., who wrote for The Santa Cruz Sentinel and now contributes to Edible San Francisco, one of 30 free magazines focused on local food scenes published by Edible Communities. The magazines have become the unofficial literary journals of the farmer-writer movement.

A few years ago, Mr. Griffin said, “it became clear that our customers wanted to know where their food was coming from.” So, once a week or so, he parks his truck near his fields and jots down some thoughts about the vegetables growing there.

One of his most popular pieces was written after the death of George Harrison in 2001. After describing how he once spotted the former Beatle in Salinas, California’s hub of commercial farming, Mr. Griffin managed to find a thematic thread linking his red carrots to the musician’s alternative world view.

Starting in 1999, Mr. Griffin sent e-mails of his writings — which blend humor, politics, history and cooking tips from his wife, Julia Wiley — to his customers, who often forwarded them to friends. The newsletter, known as The Ladybug Letter, was sent to about 7,000 subscribers before he abandoned e-mail in favor of a blog this year.

Last fall the chef Peter Hoffman was host of a dinner at Savoy, his restaurant in Manhattan, in which Mr. Griffin and three other farmers read from their work while ingredients they had grown were served. Tim Stark of Eckerton Hill Farm in Lenhartsville, Pa., who sells his sought-after heirloom tomatoes at the Union Square Greenmarket and is working on a memoir for Doubleday, spoke about foraging elderberries. Also in the lineup was Keith Stewart, another Union Square seller, who wrote “It’s a Long Road to a Tomato” (Marlowe, 2006). Note to harried urbanites thinking of taking up the simple life: read this unromantic tale before you give up your day job.

Mr. Hoffman said he differentiated the recent crop of farmers who write from those like Joel Salatin, who writes what Mr. Hoffman called how-tos and polemics about sustainable farming, and Wendell Berry, whose novels, poems and essays celebrate traditional agrarian values and the merits of rural living. The focus of this new group, Mr. Hoffman said, is less ambitious, is often directed at consumers, and largely concerns “the daily life of producing food.”

Their work has flourished in magazines. “It’s really important to me to give farmers a voice,” said Ruth Reichl, the editor of Gourmet, who published a piece by Mr. Stark about his troubles with gophers after a chef at a Manhattan restaurant slipped her a draft of it one day at lunch.

But many farmers, used to selling directly to customers, have cut out the middlemen in their writing careers, too. Deborah Madison, the chef and cookbook author, said so many farmers were writing electronic newsletters that her inbox was often swamped. “When it comes to market day, of course, they’re all too busy to think, let alone talk,” she wrote in an e-mail message.

In “Blithe Tomato” (Great Valley, 2006), her brother, Mike Madison, writes about the farmers’ market in Davis, Calif., where he sells his produce and flowers. His short, sharp pieces draw readers into the psychological landscape of a small-scale farmer, but they also reflect his observations of his customers: the people who swoon at the scent of lilacs, a colorful character he calls the Old Basque, and a man with a faraway look and a jittery woman (who finally appear grounded after Mr. Madison notices them hand in hand).

Michael Ableman, who farms in British Columbia, believes that many farmers are hard-wired for storytelling. “A good writer is first and foremost a great observer,” said Mr. Ableman, the author, most recently, of “Fields of Plenty” (Chronicle, 2005), which describes a trip he took to visit farms he admired. “And that’s what makes a good agriculturalist, too.”

David Mas Masumoto, a third-generation peach and grape farmer in Del Rey, Calif., and the author of several books, agrees. “There’s a long tradition of writing on the farm,” he said, noting that farmers kept journals to remember what seeds they planted, when the rain came and what their fields looked like through the year.

“I’ve seen some that are very basic, with dates and numbers, and others are rather literary,” he said. The practice faded in recent decades as farming became more automated and less dependent on the senses. Even so, Mr. Masumoto keeps a notepad in his pocket when he is in the field and refers to it when he is writing in the evening.

Like many farmers who have taken up writing, Shannon Hayes is a prodigal child of agriculture, having left her parents’ farm near Cobleskill, N.Y., to sow her wild oats (and to earn a Ph.D. from Cornell in rural sociology). She took classes in fiction writing, but it was not until she turned to the topic of farming that she found her voice.

“I had to discover my victim niche,” she said. “I’m an upstate farm girl. And you know what they say: write what you know.”

Ms. Hayes said she started writing cookbooks because her customers, including some chefs, did not know how to cook the pasture-raised beef she and her parents produced at their Sap Bush Hollow Farm. Her books, “The Grassfed Gourmet Cookbook” (Eating Fresh, 2003) and “The Farmer and the Grill” (Left to Write Press, 2007), are authoritative and accessible, with stories about how farming methods affect flavor.

By no means is she the only writing farmer with a graduate degree. “At one point we had four M.F.A.’s on the farm,” said Scott Chaskey, a Long Island farmer whose book “This Common Ground” (Viking, 2005) is rich with the luminous, earthy details one expects from a man whose business card reads “farmer-poet.” He believes writing and farming are complementary vocations.

“I think it has something to do with the solitude, the magic, of the back field,” he said. “That’s what both a farmer and a writer cherish.”

OT - nancy drew

2007-06-20T07:09:00.001-07:00

Mystery Of the Girl Sleuth
__

By Ruth Marcus
Wednesday, June 20, 2007; A19

Among my many failings as a parent has been my inability to convince my daughters to read Nancy Drew.

As a child, I didn't so much read Nancy Drew mysteries as devour them, from yellow cover to yellow cover. I would no sooner be done with "The Secret in the Old Attic" than I would start in on "The Mystery of the Tolling Bell."

I wanted to Be Like Nancy -- who wouldn't? She was smart and adventuresome, quick-thinking and fearless, the epitome of independence in her sporty blue roadster.

Perhaps most important for a girl reading Nancy in the early 1960s, she showed that girls could have it all, complete with a wardrobe of sweater sets and sheaths, and a boyfriend, the endlessly tolerant Ned Nickerson, who never got in the way of her sleuthing.

"Nancy manages the almost impossible feat of being wholesomely 'feminine' -- glamorous, gracious, stylish, tactful -- while also proving herself strong, resourceful, and bold," novelist Bobbie Ann Mason wrote in "The Girl Sleuth."

Years after I was officially too old for Nancy, I would sometimes go down to the basement -- alas, no secret passageway -- and spend a cozy afternoon curled up with Nancy.

I was not, of course, alone in this passion. Conceived by a man but, for the most part, written by women under the pseudonym Carolyn Keene, Nancy has sold more than 200 million copies since 1930. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has attributed her feminist streak to "growing up on Nancy Drew."

"Here was somebody who was doing things," Ginsburg told me. "She was fearless. She was what every girl would like to be."

The Somali Dutch feminist Ayaan Hirsi Ali had the same reaction decades later. "From the time I started reading novels of Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys, I wanted to be like Nancy Drew," she told "60 Minutes."

So when I had daughters, I was sure it was a matter of time before Nancy became part of their lives. Yet I had no luck. Perhaps it was the old-fashioned design I find so comforting and familiar that turned them off -- the fusty typeface, the stylized cover paintings of titian-haired Nancy in sensible shirtdress.

Now, my 12-year-old is irretrievably beyond the Nancy zone. She is deep into a truly odious series, the Clique books, about a group of popular rich girls, which seem to be more product placement than novel. She just finished a book called "You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah!" Nancy Drew, it's safe to say, didn't know from bat mitzvahs.

But the Nancy Drew movie has come along in time for Julia, 10. Anything that gets turned into a movie can't be that bad, even if your mother likes it. And so, in the past few weeks, Julia has started reading Nancy -- first, "The Secret of the Old Clock," now, "The Hidden Staircase."

Julia and I went to see the movie last week. I was braced to hate it; the movie is set in the present, Nancy leaves River Heights for California, and I imagined Nancy turned Valley Girl. Omigod, it's a clue! Instead, the creators let Nancy be Nancy, with her Peter Pan collars, knee socks and penny loafers, but also with a laptop and iPod.

I hope the movie will generate more Nancy readers, but I have a theory about why the series is not as popular among girls today as in my generation or Justice Ginsburg's. It came to me as Julia and I were watching the most recent Democratic candidate debate. Hillary Clinton-- yes, Nancy Drew was her favorite as a girl, too -- began to talk about "when I become president."

Truth is, whenever I hear the senator say that, I cringe. It sounds, to my 40-something ear, awfully presumptuous, the kind of boasting that nice girls don't do. But Julia had a different reaction. "That was good," she pronounced, unprompted. "It made her seem very confident, like she was in charge."

This, I think, is the difference between her generation and those that have gone before: Girls now don't need Nancy Drew. They know what we had to learn -- that self-confidence is something to celebrate, not suppress; that they don't need to apologize for being assertive, or even, heaven forbid, ambitious.

For us, Nancy Drew was revolutionary. Today, she's the new normal.

canneles (tartlette)

2007-06-18T13:32:00.000-07:00

Canneles Pretenders:

Makes 12 muffin sized ones

750 milk (2 1/2 cups)
50 gr butter (1 1/2 oz)
3 eggs plus 3 egg yolks
300 gr granulated sugar (10 oz)
1 Tb vanilla extract
6 Tb rum
150 gr all purpose flour (5 1/4 oz)

In a saucepan, bring the milk to a simmer, add the butter cut into dices. Mix well and let cool to lukewarm.
In a bowl, mix the eggs, egg yolks, sugar and vanilla and whisk until foamy. Slowly add the rum and flour. Add the milk slowly and whisk until smooth. Pass it through a sieve if neessary.
Let the batter rest in the fridge for a ouple of hours or overnight. (I make mine the day before)
When the batter has rested, preheat the oven to 425F and divide it evenly among the muffin tins, generously coated with cooking spray or well buttered. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour.
If you can wait, you will find that they are better the next day.

Apologies to all "canneles" purists but what is a girl to do when the cravings strike and cannot wait?

cherry clafouti - dessert first

2007-06-15T12:22:00.000-07:00

Cherry Clafouti

adapted from Dorie Greenspan's Paris Sweets

makes one 9-in clafouti or (8) 2 1/2-in ramekins

3 large eggs

6 tablespoons (75 g) sugar

1 cup (240 g) crème fraîche

2 teaspoons vanilla bean paste

11 ounces (330 g) cherries, pitted (you may need fewer cherries if you make individual clafoutis depending on how many you can fit in the ramekins)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Butter a 9-in baking dish or pie plate, or individual ramekins, and place on a baking sheet.

Whisk the eggs together in a mixing bowl.

Add in the sugar and whisk to combine.

Add in the crème fraîche and whisk just until incorporated.

Whisk in the vanilla bean paste.

Stir in the cherries gently.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan, making sure the cherries are distributed evenly.

Bake in the oven for about 25 minutes (if you are making individual ramekins, be sure to check halfway through to see if they are baking faster) until the batter looks puffed and golden and is set in the center.

Let clafouti cool for about 15 minutes out of the oven before serving. You can also serve at room temperature - it will keep for about 12 hours.

gateau de crepes - smitten kitchen

2007-06-12T10:38:00.001-07:00

Gâteau de Crêpes
New York Times, 5/15/05

For the crepe batter:
6 tablespoons butter
3 cups milk
6 eggs
1 1/2 cups flour
7 tablespoons sugar
Pinch salt

For the vanilla pastry cream:
2 cups milk
1 vanilla bean, halved and scraped
6 egg yolks
1/2 cup sugar
1/3 cup cornstarch, sifted
3 1/2 tablespoons butter

For the assembly:
Corn oil
2 cups heavy cream
1 tablespoon sugar or more
3 tablespoons Kirsch
Confectioners’ sugar.

1. The day before, make the crepe batter and the pastry cream. Batter: In a small pan, cook the butter until brown like hazelnuts. Set aside. In another small pan, heat the milk until steaming; allow to cool for 10 minutes. In a mixer on medium-low speed, beat together the eggs, flour, sugar and salt. Slowly add the hot milk and browned butter. Pour into a container with a spout, cover and refrigerate overnight.

2. Pastry cream: Bring the milk with the vanilla bean (and scrapings) to a boil, then set aside for 10 minutes; remove bean. Fill a large bowl with ice and set aside a small bowl that can hold the finished pastry cream and be placed in this ice bath.

3. In a medium heavy-bottomed pan, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar and cornstarch. Gradually whisk in the hot milk, then place pan over high heat and bring to a boil, whisking vigorously for 1 to 2 minutes. Press the pastry cream through a fine-meshed sieve into the small bowl. Set the bowl in the ice bath and stir until the temperature reaches 140 degrees on an instant-read thermometer. Stir in the butter. When completely cool, cover and refrigerate.

4. Assemble the cake the next day: Bring the batter to room temperature. Place a nonstick or seasoned 9-inch crepe pan over medium heat. Swab the surface with the oil, then add about 3 tablespoons batter and swirl to cover the surface. Cook until the bottom just begins to brown, about 1 minute, then carefully lift an edge and flip the crepe with your fingers. Cook on the other side for no longer than 5 seconds. Flip the crepe onto a baking sheet lined with parchment. Repeat until you have 20 perfect crepes.

5. Pass the pastry cream through a sieve once more. Whip the heavy cream with the tablespoon sugar and the Kirsch. It won’t hold peaks. Fold it into the pastry cream.

6. Lay 1 crepe on a cake plate. Using an icing spatula, completely cover with a thin layer of pastry cream (about 1/4 cup). Cover with a crepe and repeat to make a stack of 20, with the best-looking crepe on top. Chill for at least 2 hours. Set out for 30 minutes before serving. If you have a blowtorch for creme brulee, sprinkle the top crepe with 2 tablespoons sugar and caramelize with the torch; otherwise, dust with confectioners’ sugar. Slice like a cake.

Batter adapted from ‘’Joy of Cooking.'’ Pastry cream adapted from ‘’Desserts,'’ by Pierre Herme and Dorie Greenspan. Serves (IMHO, way more than) 10.

OT - Bottle Deposits

2007-06-01T12:05:00.001-07:00

May 27, 2007

The Unintended Consequences of Hyperhydration

By JON MOOALLEM

It’s easy to find, in the mightily expanding iconography of American waste, the monumental (a ziggurat of flattened cars), the sinister (ocher sludge foaming on a riverbank) and the sublime (a plastic bag fluttering in a Japanese maple). The empty bottle and crushed aluminum can are none of these. They are almost too commonplace to notice, too dreary to evoke anything at all. Foundered on a roadside or slumped in a bag of spent Chinese takeout, the can without its Mountain Dew and the bottle without its Bud are unremarkable things. They’re just trash: something we once wanted and now can’t be bothered with.

Eleven states — California, Connecticut, Delaware, Hawaii, Iowa, Maine, Massachusetts, Michigan, New York, Oregon and Vermont — give this valueless stuff a value, however. Typically we pay a nickel when purchasing a container and get the nickel back if we return the container for recycling. It’s a deposit, a contract binding us to our garbage. Though these days, that nickel may elicit only the faintest twinge of regret as we toss the empty into the trash and rejoin our busy lives. More than three decades since it was first legislated, the transaction that the so-called bottle bill sets in motion — pay a nickel, recoup a nickel — is the same as ever. The world surrounding it, though, is almost unrecognizable.

Oregon passed the country’s first deposit law in 1971, and as one native Oregonian told me, “We don’t have too many firsts.” So in February in Salem, hearings to dust off and modernize the law began with a certain romantic pride. Oregon’s speaker of the house called the bottle bill “an Oregon institution” and described tacking toward floating bottles and scooping them out of the Columbia River while learning to sail with his father. The Senate president credited the bottle bill with making him want to become a legislator. “I just think it’s part of being an Oregonian, that you return your bottles and cans,” he said.

Representative Vicki Berger, a Republican from Salem, introduced herself as “the only living witness to the actual birth of the Oregon bottle bill.” Berger, who is largely spearheading the reforms, is the daughter of a fabled citizen-activist, Richard Chambers, who proposed the first bill, a man subsequently described to me as “a voice in the wilderness” and “totally prophetic.” Berger called the law “part of our mythology.” For others it was a “shining beacon” and “the one bill more than any others that Oregonians identify with.”

Never, it seemed, had such a ceremony been made over trash. Except that this same thing has been going on, almost perennially, in state legislatures across the country for decades. Bills to update existing laws or pass one in a non-bottle-bill state typically flail around in committee until, clobbered by the powerful grocery and beverage industry lobbies or skipped over for sexier environmental issues, they disappear. This year, however, the Oregon campaign, along with similar ones in New York and Connecticut, have gained greater traction.

Bottle bills are still surprisingly good at inspiring recycling and reducing litter. But, though they are idiosyncratic in every state, the vast majority of the laws share one colossal, unanticipated flaw: they place a deposit on beer and carbonated beverages only. The bottle bill’s scope, and to some extent the very vision of a more waste-conscious world that first motivated it, has been swiftly trivialized by the ubiquity of bottled water. This year, Americans will drink more than 30 billion single-serving bottles of water. Oregonians will throw out about 170 million empty ones. Those same bottles, filled with something fizzy, would carry nickel deposits.

“That was the stupidest thing we ever did,” says a veteran of the original Oregon campaign. The laws were written in a different era, a less health-obsessed one, when drinking out of a bottle or can meant drinking beer or soda. If bottled water, teas, juices and energy drinks existed at all, they were quaintly called “new-age beverages.” (“In the late ’70s,” one bottled-water executive urged me to keep in mind, “no one was putting on little shorts and running in the streets.”) Bottled water, Berger says, “is what’s truly different from 1971,” which is why she and others are battling to expand their bottle bills to include it.

From there, proposals often seek to fix a mess of other unanticipated dysfunctions and complaints. For starters, no state had the foresight to require its nickel deposit be adjusted for inflation. That nickel is now worth about a penny in 1971 terms, and redemption rates have depressed — except in Michigan, the only state with a dime deposit, where the rate remains 97 percent. Other states have tried to move to a dime. What’s more, in most states, if we toss the can, or even if we dutifully put it in our curbside recycling, our nickel quietly remains with the beverage-distributing company to which we first paid it. This year, the Bigger Better Bottle Bill campaign in New York is making its sixth attempt to redirect those unclaimed deposits — estimated at $100 million each year — into a state environmental fund. “It’s the people’s nickel,” says Judith Enck, Governor Spitzer’s deputy secretary for the environment.

Opposing such changes are disgruntled bottlers, distributors and grocers. Americans buy about 215 billion beverage containers every year, more than quadruple those bought in 1971. Steadily, these industries have been forced to sacrifice more space, time and money to run shadow businesses that are, as if out of a surrealist novel, haunting reversals of their regular businesses: trucks shuttle from store to store picking up empties; clerks hand customers money for grimy containers of air. Including bottled water would only inundate them further.

By now the players on both sides, in each state, all know one another. They issue reports. They recite dueling statistics. But the debate, wherever it happens to flare up in a given year, is essentially a philosophical one. While recycling advocates rail against society’s wastefulness as a solemn problem, so much of that society relies on the freedom to throw things out as a solution to problems. As naïve as it looks, the bottle bill forces the very contemporary environmental question of whether those who sell a product, not to mention those who use it, should be accountable for its mess — and just how accountable, and at what cost. By Day 3 in Salem, one dumbstruck grocer, pressed after his testimony, finally blurted out: “Are we responsible for all the containers and all the garbage we sell?” He meant it as a rhetorical question. But it’s precisely the question that, for 36 years, everyone has been getting together to hash out.

The People’s Lobby Against Nonreturnables

Opponents often denigrate the bottle bill as an old antilitter law, ill equipped to do the 21st-century job of recycling. But the ethos behind it was more forward-thinking than is commonly remembered.

Richard Chambers sold plywood production equipment. Before dying of cancer in 1974, he climbed every peak in Oregon and to the highest point in every state. On a Sunday morning in 1968, returning from a walk on the beach near his house in Pacific City, Chambers saw an article in the newspaper that his teenage daughter was reading over breakfast. It described a proposed deposit system in British Columbia. “And he says: ‘That’s it. That’s the answer,’ ” his daughter, Vicki Berger, told me recently. Immediately, Chambers called a state representative, a young black-sheep Republican named Paul Hanneman. The call woke up Hanneman. Soon the two men were standing near the town’s only intersection, grimacing at the mess of broken glass Chambers spotted there on his walk: a typical Saturday night’s detritus.

The beverage industry was changing, as were its consumers’ expectations. For decades, producing glass bottles was so costly that bottlers operated their own deposit systems to ensure they got them back. Beer usually came in glass “stubbies,” each with a deposit of a few cents. A stubby could be returned to any local bottler, regardless of its brand. There it was sterilized, scrubbed clean of its label and refilled. A single container could be repurposed as many as 30 times. But by the ’60s, aluminum cans were ubiquitous, and glass bottles were shedding their deposits. The convenience of these new “one way,” or disposable, containers was marketed enthusiastically. By 1970, nearly 40 percent of America’s packaged soda and 75 percent of its packaged beer came in one-ways.

“We could see the returnables disappearing,” Paul Hanneman, now 70 and retired, told me in the house near Pacific City where he has lived since childhood. The morning I visited, he had unearthed 300 copies of letters Chambers sent, often while overseas for business, to strum up support for the bottle bill. Chambers collected hotel stationery, hoping letterhead from Zaire would make his cause look important.

Hanneman first introduced the bottle bill in 1969. The idea — to put an artificial value on what everyone increasingly saw as worthless — was swiftly crushed. “The industry people came down on us like crazy,” he said. As convenient as one-ways were for consumers, they also alleviated great hassle and expense for grocers and bottlers. Those businesses themselves were becoming one-way, less hobbled by having to take back empties. Many bottle-washing lines, where containers were sterilized, were already dismantled. Hanneman was accused of trying to turn back the clock, ordering major corporations to jump through so many impracticable hoops in his one, inconsequential state that ultimately the whole industry might collapse. Businesses and unions, normally enemies, sat together on the same side of the hearing room. On the other side, Hanneman told me, “you’ve got Rich Chambers sitting all by himself”: a 6-foot-4, 275-pound man, needlepointing assiduously to calm his nerves. “He’d get so wound up. He’d say, ‘If we don’t reverse the trend now, nonreturnables, especially cans, are going to be so numerous we’ll never beat these people.’ ”

In 1971, when Hanneman and Chambers reintroduced the bill, modern environmentalism was just forming in the unfocused afterglow of the first Earth Day a year earlier. It was a moment when discussing humankind’s negligent stewardship of the planet and simply picking pieces of litter off its surface were both seen as deeply ecological acts. As an outdoorsman, Chambers loathed litter as a blight on the landscape. But he was also fearful of the broader wastefulness it signaled. He kept compulsive files on the resources needed to manufacture aluminum cans. An ad-hoc group called PLAN, the People’s Lobby Against Nonreturnables, studied the energy that a deposit program could conserve.

“My father understood fully about resource management,” Berger says, but “he was a salesman first.” Only by trumpeting the bottle bill as an antilitter measure could Chambers and Hanneman find the support they needed. Fighting litter was straightforward; it felt good. Gov. Tom McCall championed the bill exhaustively, telling the press he would “put a price on the head” of every bottle and can. This time, an unlikely coalition staggered in on Chambers’s side of the hearing room. “You had some younger people with longer hair sitting right next to a guy in big overalls from the Linn County Farm Bureau,” Hanneman said. “They were from all around the state — some urban, some rural. They hadn’t been to the Capitol before and really didn’t know what to do. All they knew was that they ought to go there.”

Opposition intensified. Before one hearing, a small cavalcade of private jets landed at the Salem airport, carrying various industry representatives from the East Coast. Jerry Powell, who volunteered for Chambers as a graduate student and now edits the trade magazine Resource Recycling, says the men came off as bullies and outsiders. For starters, “they called it ‘Oregoan,’ ” Powell says, still irritated. Local businesses meanwhile stepped up with crucial support, particularly five northwest breweries that hoped the bill might handicap the Anheuser-Buschs of the world, however slightly. (Freed from the cost of shipping bottles in two directions, national companies were now outcompeting local ones.) The bottle bill ultimately passed, Powell argues, because of “locals talking to locals.” “Incidentally,” he adds, “all five of those breweries are out of business now.”

Eric A. Goldstein of the Natural Resources Defense Council describes the first bottle bills emerging at a time when nationalizing markets were making goods more affordable and convenient, but also further detaching consumers from their environmental costs. The one-way soda can is only convenient because we can throw it out when we’re finished and don’t have to worry where it goes. So is the Bic razor, the paper towel, the disposable camera and the Swiffer mop head. “As significant as the bottle-bill legislation is,” Goldstein says, “the growing movement toward a throwaway society that started in the ’60s and ’70s is an even larger trend.”

Berger told me: “My father envisioned a world where we were overburdened with trash. He wasn’t aiming for recycling in the sense we know it, but recycling in the sense he knew it, which was that the bottle would go back to the bottling plant and get refilled.” (Chambers put a sticker over the toilet in the family’s beach cabin that read: “Rejoice! You’re Refillable!”) “I think his real purpose was to conserve that system” — to preserve the tidy, closed loop the industry was allowing to diffuse. “And in that sense,” Berger said, “the bottle bill was a failure.”

Today a great many of Oregon’s returned glass bottles are trucked to a plant near the Portland airport. There, they accumulate in towering piles. Then they are melted down and made into new bottles.

The Old Jalopy

Despite the elaborate overhauls first discussed, the updated bottle bill that passed out of the Oregon senate and into the House last month was essentially what Berger called the “just add water” option. It would place a 5-cent deposit on bottled water.

The change is far more complicated and politically ambitious than it sounds, given that grocers, stuck with the bottle bill’s grunt work, have traditionally been opposed to any expansion. Last year, The Oregonian reported that, before any changes were even introduced, Joe Gilliam, president of the Northwest Grocery Association, issued this warning to a meeting of stakeholders: “We can sit back and kill bottle bills. We’ve got the money to do it. We’ve got the political know-how to do it.”

Not long ago, Gilliam and I visited a store in northeast Portland together. It was a Fred Meyer, a chain of large-scale retailers. We met at the bottle house, a cement structure resembling a bus terminal near the edge of the parking lot. There, people fed empties into “reverse vending machines,” which scanned the barcodes and issued redemptions. An employee stood by to switch out the bins and hand-count any containers mistakenly rejected. The store fills three trucks with empties every week. Adding water, Gilliam speculated, would at least double that volume. That means twice as many machines in a bottle house twice as big. And if that happens, he said, pacing into the lot with his arms extended, you run into compliance problems with parking, access to public transportation and so on. Some grocers also warn that funneling garbage into grocery stores has health risks. “The bottle bill is basically maxed out on its capacity,” Gilliam said. “They’re going to have to do something far more innovative to make it work at this point.”

Meanwhile, as is the case in most states, Oregon’s beverage distributors — who via the grocers, collect and refund the deposits — claim they are being defrauded. They are refunding nickels for out-of-state containers on which they never collected a deposit in the first place. In Portland, bottles and cans flood in from the nearby suburbs in Washington, a state with no bottle bill. (“Seinfeld” fans will remember Kramer driving a mail truck full of empties to the 10-cent Promised Land of Michigan.) A cooperative of Oregon distributors says this fraud almost entirely cancels out, and in some years exceeds, the windfall of unclaimed deposits it gets to keep.

Bottled-water companies claim that, because water is not distributed in strict territories like soda and beer, keeping track of their nickels will be even more difficult. In Maine, one of two states so far to expand its law to include bottled water, Nestlé Waters North America says it handed back $815,000 more in nickels than it collected last year. (Globally, Nestlé owns 72 different brands of water, including Poland Spring, Deer Park and Arrowhead.) Brian Flaherty, a Nestlé spokesman who has testified in Connecticut and Oregon, told me those states are trying to drag the water business into an already dysfunctional system. They’re trying to “update the old jalopy,” Flaherty said.

The grocery and beverage industries largely advocate relying on curbside recycling instead — the programs by which homeowners set out bins at the ends of their driveways for collection. They argue that running a deposit program — a separate system just for beverage containers — is redundant. It may even be counterproductive. In Connecticut, a recycling contractor warns that placing a deposit on noncarbonated beverages, and thus inspiring more people to recycle those containers at stores, would divert at least $900,000 of recyclable material from the curbside bins. Such losses of revenue can threaten the financial viability of the curbside programs altogether.

The rise of municipal curbside recycling is yet another thing the bottle bill’s authors couldn’t have predicted. Bottle-bill proponents note that nearly half of Americans don’t have access to curbside recycling and maintain that it does a poor job of capturing containers commonly consumed away from home, like bottled water. But curbside still has a way of complicating their arguments, or at least of exposing just how stubbornly idealistic their vision actually is. If the goal is to conserve resources, it seems unfair that someone who conscientiously recycles his bottles and cans at the curb rather than at the grocery store loses his nickels regardless. I told this to Betty McLaughlin of the Container Recycling Institute, a tiny nonprofit that serves as a nerve center for bottle-bill advocates. McLaughlin disagreed, categorically. People drive to the grocery store regularly anyway, she said. If they took their empties with them, and if states put deposits on even more products, the volume of curbside material would drop, and the haulers’ trucks could make fewer trips. That would result in a net — though small, it seems — reduction in greenhouse-gas emissions.

More important, McLaughlin said, curbside is financed by municipalities; the bottle bill is designed to hold industry accountable for the disposal of its products. This accountability has practical, not just philosophical, benefits: forcing companies to take back their empties has ensured they make their containers recyclable and build markets for the scrap. (It is because of the bottle bill that fleece jackets, mattresses and carpeting are now made from recycled plastic bottles; recycled bottles have become one of the most valuable scrap materials.) Nevertheless, defenses of the bottle bill often boil down to an insistence that the essential rightness of its principle, the idea of producer responsibility, simply outweighs its many other costs and inconveniences — particularly since the bulk of those costs and inconveniences are borne by the industry. That’s only just.

Each side of the debate has its own emphatic standards of fairness and efficiency, and the distance between them was evident earlier this month, when, with an expansion seeming almost inevitable in Oregon, Michael Read of the WinCo Foods grocery chain spoke at a second round of hearings, sounding defeated. Read didn’t bother preparing testimony, he said, because “all of the cogent arguments where we have good data . . . have unfortunately been largely ignored. No one seems to care about the health issues, sanitation issues, space issues, handling issues, efficiency issues, cost issues.” I asked Paul Hanneman how he and Chambers responded to similar objections in 1971, the contentions that the bottle bill would demand calamitous changes to a complex industry. “We said, ‘You figure it out,’ ” Hanneman told me; the state was done paying for those containers as garbage or litter.

In her office one morning, Vicki Berger seemed to share this principled insensitivity. When it comes to bottled water, she said, “when are we going to say enough is enough of this product?” (Berger had previously explained her position on water this way: “The product is zilch! You’re buying a friggin’ container!”) Now she handed me a bottle from a little collection she kept. The brand was called Oregon Rain; its slogan, “Virgin Water Harvested From Oregon Skies.” “This is my poster child,” she said. “It’s laughable.” Then to prove this, Berger laughed.

Water

Singling out bottled water is unfair. All successful products cater to our values, and it may be that, in water, we see our unflattering reflection most clearly. Steve Emery, president of the Oregon-based bottled-water company Earth20, told me, “It’s funny that people think if you add a lot of sugar to the water, it’s better than just providing water.”

Bottled water is invaluable for those without reliably safe drinking water or during disaster relief. But the product thrived only after Americans were accustomed to, even reliant on, buying single servings of soda while on the go — in the convenience stores and little delis the industry calls “immediate consumption channels.” This year, Americans will drink more than nine billion gallons of bottled water, nearly all of it from polyethylene terephthalate, or PET, plastic bottles. Water, together with other nonfizzy drinks, accounted for 90 percent of the growth of the entire beverage industry between 2002 and 2005. By the end of the decade, they are expected to outsell soda.

Despite the chicness of certain brands, the market is dominated by hundreds of more workaday waters. Brands like Crystal Geyser, Kirkland and Arrowhead function as tap water for a country that spends most of its time away from the tap. While even the most pedestrian waters invoke the grandeur of their source — a secluded spring, a glacial brook — Gary Hemphill of the Beverage Marketing Corporation says, “As far as consumers go, I don’t sense that they really care one way or the other.” We just want water. “If you could put your kitchen sink on your back and carry it around with you, the bottled-water industry might not be as big as it is today.”

Michelle Barry of the market research firm the Hartman Group told me, “Water is not really critically considered” — not even the object itself, it seems. “We believe bottled water has become less about the physical act of hydration and more about being a companion to people,” she said. “They like to walk around with it and hold it.” Increasingly, the typical consumer sips out of a bottle of water “to mark time.” “It’s like their bangie,” Barry added, meaning a security blanket. Or rather, each bottle of water is one in a readily available cast of interchangeable security blankets that we can capriciously acquire and toss throughout the day.

Several industry people told me that water’s most exciting growth is now in sales of large multipacks or flats of single-serving bottles — stockpiles that we keep in our pantries or garages and grab a few bottles from on our way out the door. The obvious question then is, why not fill up a reusable bottle from the tap and take that with us. “If you’re on the go, and you’re buying something to consume on the go,” Barry told me, “that assumes you don’t have the time for preparation before you go. You need that ultimate convenience.” It follows that you don’t have time to shepherd around that bottle once it is empty either.

Americans will throw out more than two million tons of PET bottles this year. Even when recycled, it is hard to turn scrap PET into new bottles. More virgin material is always necessary. PET is a petroleum product; it comes from oil. The Container Recycling Institute estimates that 18 million barrels of crude-oil equivalent were needed to replace the bottles we chucked in 2005, bottles that were likely shipped long distances to begin with —from Maine or Calistoga or Fiji.

Whether more states manage to put deposits on bottled water or not, we have become real-life grotesques of the disconnected, profligate consumer the bottle bill saw coming and, waving a roll of nickels, tried to fend off. I easily bought more than a dozen bottles of water while working on this article.

Redemption

Three weeks ago, the Northwest Grocery Association proposed its own startling modernization of the Oregon bottle bill. The State Legislature, Joe Gilliam told me, “hasn’t understood or really wanted to understand” how devastating its just-add-water expansion would be to grocers. Grudgingly resigned to some kind of expansion, Gilliam came to the table at the 11th hour with a more grocer-friendly, radical reinvention of the system: all carbonated and noncarbonated beverages and liquor would carry nickel deposits, and new, state-run redemption centers — not grocers — would handle the returns. They’d also collect materials like home electronics. Grocers would help finance the redemption centers and relinquish all unredeemed deposits to a state anti-litter program.

A legislative committee promptly ignored this proposal, however, passing the original expansion to the full chamber, where, as of last week, it awaited probable passage. Meanwhile, after rocketing through one house of the State Legislature, Connecticut’s expansion was recently killed in committee. (Proponents have promised to resurrect the measure as part of another bill.) New York’s “Bigger Better Bottle Bill” continued to gain unprecedented momentum, though it still faced some discouraging resistance in one house.

“It probably won’t go through this year,” the Rev. Dr. Earl Kooperkamp told me last month. Kooperkamp helped introduce the Bigger Better Bottle Bill campaign six years ago. He is 50 now, with an odd little braid of hair that swishes at the back of his clerical collar. He had invited me to Saint Mary’s Episcopal Church in Harlem, to a monthly meeting he holds for “canners,” those who scour the city for bottles and cans for a living. The meeting is part support group (he helps those harassed by grocers file complaints) and part long-range planning committee (he envisions canners lobbying for improvements to the law). He is confident that, if the deposit were raised to a dime, more than enough containers would still be abandoned to keep his canners in business. Kooperkamp calls the group the Redeemers.

It’s unclear how big a share of America’s recycling the homeless and working poor do. Clearly it is considerable. The Container Recycling Institute reports that an average of 490 beverage containers are recycled per person per year in bottle-bill states. Yet many canners told me that they can easily earn a daily wage of 20 or 30 dollars; each then recycles upward of 600 containers every day. When proponents argue that bottle bills are the best way to capture containers consumed on the go, it’s not because a frenzied Dr. Pepper drinker will make a scrupulous detour to return the can, but because, when that can is inevitably thrown out, a scavenger might retrieve it.

In Manhattan, many canners start at the tip of the island after the first Statue of Liberty ferries have sailed. They hit Wall Street as lunch is ending and wind up in Times Square to pick up after the pretheater stampede. Since canners may not get to a grocery store before closing, Kooperkamp describes the rise of “mobile redemption,” middlemen in trucks who buy loads late at night, two for a nickel. Fearing overnight theft, many canners in Portland sleep beside their containers at bottle houses. Though few in Portland find it worth their time to dig through garbage; most work set routes, emptying each neighborhood’s curbside bins on its designated recycling night — a situation that may signal a breakdown of both systems.

While we sat in the church foyer waiting for Redeemers, Kooperkamp explained that, in Leviticus, the Bible issues laws about leaving the corners of your fields for the poor to harvest. “It’s saying that something has to be left that somebody else can make use of,” he said. “What the Redeemers are doing is gleaning the fields, sustaining their lives in a way that actually ends up making life better for all of us.” Still, Leviticus had to remind us to leave some for the gleaners. Today enough useful detritus seems to flake off our lives by itself that an entire underground economy traffics in our trash.

The bottle bill created an economic incentive for something its authors felt we ought to do for its own sake. It was a mandate to recycle rather than litter but, more broadly, to stay mindful of the tension between convenience and conscientiousness — to stay tethered to our waste as, more and more, that connection slackened. Talking with Kooperkamp, I realized that canners may be the only ones even remotely living the principle of the bottle bill as Richard Chambers envisioned it, and only then, out of desperation.

“A good number of the Redeemers see that they’re doing a real service,” Kooperkamp said, “cleaning up after us, taking care of the environment.” Some come to see picking up a can — replacing it into the cyclic narrative from which it strayed — “as running totally opposite to our egocentric, convenience-driven, disposable culture.” It can be a deeply connective act. “I went to seminary,” Kooperkamp told me. “I learned all about redemption. Redemption is about taking something that is worthless and giving it value, about taking that worthless thing and changing it into something life-sustaining.” Jean Rice, a canner in the Bronx, summed it up this way: “Five years ago, I used to call myself a canner. But now I call myself an ecological engineer.”

After an hour, it was clear that no Redeemers would show. Kooperkamp apologized, reached for his cup of coffee (paper, with a plastic sip-top) and stood up. His whole demeanor said, Ah well, maybe next time. These guys have pressing difficulties in their lives, he said. He understood why they might not be focused on the long-term.

Lemon Rosemary Baked Tofu from Moosewood: New Classics Rest.

2007-05-31T11:55:00.000-07:00

Serves 2 to 4
Prep: 15 minutes
Bake: 1 hour

Preheat oven to 400.

Rosemary Lemon Marinade

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice
2 Tbsp soy sauce
3 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 Tbsp minced fresh rosemary or 1 Tsp dried.
1/4 Tsp ground pepper.

Cut tofu into 1/4 inch slices. Pour 1/2 marinade into baking pan. Add Tofu and pour remaining marinade over. Bake turning after 30 minutes.

veggies? from kim o'd onnel

2007-05-31T11:51:00.001-07:00

RE: Greens: This may not be for everyone (it gets cooked down into mush), but I enjoy cooking various types of greens (mustard and kale, particularly) a la saag paneer (Indian curried spinach with cheese). You can even veganize it with baked tofu/soy dairy, if paneer isn't available or not your thing. The Food Network Web site has a good recipe; you may need to modify the cooking time for the greens (spinach cooks in minutes; collards not so much).

Kim O'Donnel: Thanks. Great idea.

Saag Paneer

Recipe courtesy Tyler Florence
Show:	Food 911
Episode:	Vegetarian Curries

2 pounds fresh baby spinach, washed and stems trimmed
1/4 cup ghee, recipe follows
1/2 pound cubed paneer cheese
2 yellow onions, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 teaspoon freshly grated ginger
1 teaspoon curry powder, recipe follows
1/2 cup buttermilk
1/4 cup plain yogurt
SaltBring a large pot of water to a boil, toss in the spinach and blanch for 1 minute until very tender. Dump the spinach into a colander and press firmly with the back of a spoon to extract as much water as possible, set aside.

Heat the ghee in a deep skillet over medium-high flame. Add the cubed paneer and fry for a couple of minutes until light brown on all sides, gently turning to avoid breaking up the cubes. Remove the cheese from the skillet and set aside.

Return the skillet to the heat and sauté the onions, garlic, and ginger; cook and stir for about 5 minutes until soft. Sprinkle the mixture with the curry powder; continue to stir to marry the flavors, about 1 minute. Fold in the chopped spinach and give everything a good toss. Shut off the heat and stir the buttermilk and yogurt into the spinach to incorporate. The mixture should be creamy and somewhat thick. Gently fold in the fried paneer cubes, season with salt, to taste, and serve with steamed basmati rice and/or flat bread.

Ghee:
1 pound unsalted butterPut the butter in a heavy saucepan over moderate heat, swirl the pot around to ensure that it melts slowly and does not sizzle or brown. Increase the heat and bring the butter to a boil. When the surface is covered with foam, stir gently and reduce the heat to the lowest possible setting. Gently simmer, uncovered, and undisturbed for 45 minutes, until the milk solids in the bottom of the pan have turned golden brown and the butter on top is transparent. Strain the ghee through a sieve lined with several layers of cheesecloth. The ghee should be perfectly clear and smell nutty; pour into a glass jar and seal tightly.

Yield: 1 1/2 cups

Curry Powder:
2 tablespoons coriander seeds
1 tablespoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon fennel seeds
1/2 teaspoon whole cloves
1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds
1 tablespoon cardamom seeds
1 tablespoon whole black peppercorns
2 dried red chiles, broken in pieces, seeds discarded
1 tablespoon turmericToast the whole spices (coriander, cumin, fennel, cloves, mustard, cardamom and peppercorns) and the chiles in a small dry skillet over medium-low heat, shaking the pan often to prevent them from burning. Toast for a couple of minutes until the spices smell fragrant. In a clean coffee grinder, grind the toasted spices together to a fine powder. Add the turmeric and give it another quick buzz to combine. Use the spice blend immediately, or store in a sealed jar for as long as 1 month.

Yield: about 1/2 cup

OT - Computer Recycling

2007-05-31T10:51:00.000-07:00

The Mossberg Solution: Where Computers Go When They Die --- As More People Upgrade, Recycling Becomes a Concern; Shredding Your Hard Drive

By Katherine Boehret

1017 words

11 April 2007

The Wall Street Journal

English

Getting rid of an old computer is a predicament that people face when their systems slow down or break down.

That's especially true now as more users decide to buy computers running Microsoft's recently released Windows Vista operating system. Apple Inc.'s campaign encouraging users to switch to its platform from Windows has also contributed to PCs piling up in basement corners.

But where should all this old equipment go? And what happens once it is taken away? How can you be sure that your private data aren't being exposed? And will being a tree hugger turn out to be too costly?

If you're looking to recycle your old system -- monitor, computer tower and printer -- you might think the only option is to search for a local drop-off spot. But surprisingly, most big-name computer manufacturers offer their own recycling programs, some of which come right to your door.

Each company has its own methods, which makes the process more confusing for consumers. Some take old computers away, but charge you around $30 for the shipping and handling. Others will reward you for buying one of their systems by offering to remove your old system free. Below, you'll find some general guidelines for getting your computer out of your house.

-- Which company does what?

Dell Inc. offers home pickup of any old Dell equipment anytime, free. It will also pick up any brand of computer or printer free with the purchase of a new Dell PC or printer. Details can be found at www.dell.com/recycling .

Hewlett-Packard Co.'s recycling procedures are a bit more complicated. At anytime, the company offers to pick up and recycle your old equipment, regardless of brand, but charges $13 to $34 per product for shipping and handling. You will be compensated for each product with a $30 to $50 coupon to be used at www.hpshopping.com , where you can buy products from H-P. Recycling details for H-P can be found at www.hp.com/recycle .

Lenovo's ThinkPlus Recycling Service offers prepaid shipping labels for $30 each to be used for sending any manufacturer's old system, monitor, printer and peripherals to Lenovo for recycling or refurbishment. Lenovo doesn't offer a home pick-up service. Once received, Lenovo uses a designated center to recycle your materials and sends reusable equipment to Gifts In Kind International, a charity specializing in product philanthropy.

Apple is different still. Like Lenovo, it doesn't offer home pick-up but will receive all brands so long as you buy a $30 shipping label from the company's Web site. With the purchase of any new Mac through Apple's Web site or at one of its retail stores, you'll receive an email with instructions and shipping codes for up to two prepaid boxes. These can be used for shipping any old equipment, regardless of manufacturer, to Apple for recycling. Details can be found at: http://www.apple.com/environment/recycling/program .

Apple's retail stores will accept all manufacturers' rechargeable batteries as part of a program run by the Rechargeable Battery Recycling Corp., a nonprofit organization. These stores also accept unwanted iPods for recycling and take 10% off the purchase of a new iPod in exchange for your old one.

-- What about my data?

When recycling, almost all companies vow to mechanically shred your hard drive. But they also suggest that you take responsibility for your data and delete them to be safe.

Various software programs let you clear out your hard disk on your own. Symantec's Wipe Info in Norton Utilities and System Works ( http://symantec.com ) will help on Windows PCs and Macs. Webroot Software Inc.'s Window Washer ( http://www.webroot.com ) is another option for Windows, and Jiiva Inc.'s SuperScrubber ( http://www.jiiva.com ) is an alternative for Macs. I haven't tested these programs, and there are many others that do the same thing.

-- What happens to my computer?

Generally speaking, after your computer is sent to a recycling plant, it is disassembled and its materials are separated, melted down and reused. H-P, which has been recycling computers since 1987, says it will have collected and recycled one billion pounds of used products by the end of this year. The company uses some materials over again in its own products, such as plastics that are melted down, combined with plastics from recycled water bottles and used to make one of H-P's scanners.

-- Recycling alternatives

Plenty of other groups, such as the National Cristina Foundation ( http://www.cristina.org ) and Share the Technology ( http://sharetechnology.org ) specialize in distributing reusable computers to people or organizations in need of computers.

For the most part, the best systems for reuse are those that are less than five years old. A good rule of thumb is to donate your computer as soon as possible, so you don't forget about it before it becomes outdated.

Microsoft specializes in PC refurbishment by partnering with TechSoup, a tech nonprofit, and by labeling groups as Microsoft Authorized Refurbishers. These groups, which are located around the world, receive low-cost software licenses so they can install Windows and Office programs on refurbished computers for distribution to low-income families, nonprofit and educational institutions. In the U.S. alone, over 100,000 licenses have been supplied to 400 such groups. A list of them can be found here: http://www.microsoft.com/mar .

With Earth Day coming on April 22nd and "going green" becoming a fashionable proclamation, you're sure to find more and more options for recycling your computer or sending it away to someone who can refurbish it. One way or another, your old computer can be used for much more than gathering dust in a basement corner.

---

Edited by Walter S. Mossberg

vanilla ginger cherry tartine (tartine gourmande)

2007-05-30T10:28:00.001-07:00

Vanilla and Ginger-Flavored Cherries on a Tartine

(For 4 Tartines)

You need:

4 nice country bread slices (sourdough is lovely)
4 prosciutto slices
7 oz whole milk (sheep) ricotta
1/2 lime
1 tsp sherry vinegar
12 cherry tomatoes
12 black cherries
1/2 vanilla bean, seeds removed
A little ginger root, finely grated
4 Tbsp fruity olive oil
1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp whole canne sugar
Fresh basil
Salt and pepper

Steps:

Place the cherries in a bowl and coat with 3 Tbsp olive oil, the juice of 1/2 lime, the vanilla seeds and grated ginger. Let rest for 30 min.
Mix together the ricotta with freshly chopped basil, salt and pepper and 1 tsp sherry vinegar. Keep.
Heat 1 Tbsp olive oil in a pan and cook the cherries for about 2 to 3 min, then add the marinade juice if any, 1 Tbsp balsamic vinegar and 1 tsp cane sugar. Cook for 1 to 2 min.
When ready to eat, add fresh basil coarsely chopped to the cherries.
Toast your bread slices.
Spread the ricotta on top of the bread. Top with a slice of prosciutto, three cherry tomatoes and cherries per tartine. Eat with an arugula or mâche salad.

blueberry and raspberry almond ricotta cupcakes (cupcake bakeshop)

2007-05-30T10:26:00.001-07:00

Blueberry & Raspberry Ricotta Almond Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting29

Posted by chockylit in Berries, Nuts, Cheese, Italian-Inspired (Sunday May 20, 2007 at 12:42 pm)

It was bound to happen. Can’t be pregnant, be a cupcake baker, and not make pink and blue cupcakes, right? I made these for the last day of birthing class. We have a snack break every class and it’s always filled with healthy savory treats. So, while I was bringing cupcakes, I wanted to make them relatively “healthy” (without sacrificing taste, of course).

This recipe is a slight variation from one I made a while back. I wanted to try using fresh almonds (hooray for vitamin E and “good” fat) instead of almond paste. The resulting cake was good, but not “almondy” enough. Next time around I would add a half teaspoon of almond extract. I actually really liked the grainy texture that the ground almonds added. But if this sounds unappealing to you, stick to the almond paste (or really grind the hell out of your almonds). As with the last recipe, this one turned out very moist. I could see these standing up to a few days of refrigeration.

I figured between the almonds, the berries, the eggs, the ricotta, and the cream cheese, I ended up with a fairly balanced treat. Fruits, healthy fats, protein, etc. to counter the heavy dose of sugar (yum, sugar). But to keep myself honest, I used my copy of Accuchef software to calculate the nutritional value. Scroll to the very end if you are curious, but perhaps some things are better left unknown…

On a side note, I have had to turn on comment moderation for the time being. So while it may seem like your comment has been posted, it will not show up on the blog until I approve it. This will hopefully be temporary. If anyone has any questions about this, feel free to email me directly.

Cupcakes
~15 cupcakes / 350 degree oven

4 ounces almonds, slivered/peeled
1 cup + 2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 cup whole milk ricotta cheese
1 stick butter, unsalted/room temp
4 eggs, large/room temp
2/3 cup flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup raspberries
1/2 cup blueberries

1. Grind almonds with 2 tablespoons sugar in a food processor until very fine. Transfer to the bowl of an electric mixer.
2. Gradually add the remaining 1 cup of sugar to the ground almonds while beating at low speed.
3. Add the ricotta and beat to combine.
4. While beating at low speed, add a tablespoon of butter at a time, waiting for the butter to incorporate until adding the next pat. The butter must be at room temperature or it will not incorporate well.
5. Stop the mixer, scrape the bowl, then beat at medium for about 2 minutes.
6. Crack eggs into a bowl and break up with a fork. At low speed gradually add eggs about a tablespoon at a time, waiting for the eggs to incorporate until adding the next bit.
7. Beat again at medium speed for about 2 minutes.
8. Measure out flour, salt, and baking powder into a bowl and whisk to combine.
9. With a rubber spatula, fold flour mixture into the cake batter until combined.
10. Wash and dry the berries. Toss with a small amount of flour. This will help keep the berries from sinking.
11. Fold berries into the batter.
12. Scoop batter into cupcake liners, about 2/3s full.
13. Bake at 350 for about ~25 minutes or until cake tester comes out clean

Note: I wanted “pink” and “blue” cupcakes so I divided the batter in two and added blueberries to one and raspberries to the other. You could do this, mix the berries, or even use different fruit.

cooling cupcakes

Cream Cheese Frosting

12 ounces or 1-1/2 packages of Philly cream cheese
1/2 stick butter
4-5 cups sifted powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla

1. Bring butter to room temperature by letting it sit out for 1 or 2 hours.
2. Sift powdered sugar into a bowl or onto parchment.
3. Beat butter and cream cheese at medium speed until creamy.
4. Add 4 cups of the powdered sugar and vanilla. Beat until combined.
5. Add more sugar until you get to the consistency and sweetness you like.

Assembly
1. Frost cupcakes.
2. Top with a candy decoration, berries, or slivered almonds.

Note: I kneaded store-bought white fondant with gel food coloring, rolled out with a little corn starch to prevent sticking, and stamped out small shapes to top the cupcakes.

Approximate Nutritional Value per Serving

Without frosting
Per Serving: 216 Cal (50% from Fat, 9% from Protein, 41% from Carb); 5 g Protein; 12 g Tot Fat; 5 g Sat Fat; 5 g Mono Fat; 23 g Carb; 1 g Fiber; 16 g Sugar; 51 mg Calcium; 1 mg Iron; 78 mg Sodium; 84 mg Cholesterol

With frosting
Per Serving: 478 Cal (43% from Fat, 6% from Protein, 52% from Carb); 7 g Protein; 23 g Tot Fat; 12 g Sat Fat; 8 g Mono Fat; 63 g Carb; 1 g Fiber; 56 g Sugar; 70 mg Calcium; 1 mg Iron; 167 mg Sodium; 117 mg Cholesterol

basic marshmallow recipe

2007-05-29T07:15:00.001-07:00

Basic Marshmallow Recipe

Ingredients:
2 Packets of Unflavored Gelatin (Very important: must be unflavored)
1/2 cup water
1 & 1/2 tsp flavoring oil or extract (In this case LorAnn Champagne flavor or McCormick Raspberry extract)
1 & 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup corn syrup
pinch of salt

1. Put 1/4 cup of water, gelatin, and one flavoring oil into standing mixer. Allow to sit for a few minutes so that the gelatin can "bloom."

2. In a large saucepan put the remaining water, corn syrup, sugar, and salt. Clip a candy thermometer to the side of the pan. Bring to a boil without stirring. When the mix reaches the soft ball stage (234 - 240 degrees) remove from heat.

3. Pour sugar mixture into standing mixer. Bring mixer up to high. Allow this to mix for about 8 minutes.

4. Pour the now white mixture into an oiled deep pan. Allow to set for about 8 hours.

5. Cut into squares (or other shapes) with an oiled knife. Dip all sides of the marshmallows into corn starch to make them less sticky.

Some notes:

* I've used this recipe with lots of different flavorings, including mint, and orange. I find that flavoring oils seem to work the best. I've seen posted online recipes that call for using crushed candies in place of some of the sugar -- this would probably be a great thing to try.

* The type of pan you use to set the marshmallows will determine how big they are. A deep pan will mean thick marshmallows. A very wide pan could mean very thin ones.

* If you have a standing mixer and candy thermometer, this is one of the easiest recipes in the world. If you don't have those things it can be kind of tricky. I have made them without both pieces of equipment, it just means being really careful at the stove and then standing around for a long time with a hand-mixer. It can definitely be done.

berry epicurious

2007-05-25T09:06:00.000-07:00

BLUEBERRY HILL CUPCAKES

Freezing the berries before adding them to the batter prevents them from sinking to the bottom and from discoloring the cupcakes.

Maple sugar can be found at some supermarkets and natural foods stores.

Cupcakes
3 1/4 cups all purpose flour
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
6 tablespoons (3/4 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1/4 cup canola oil
2 large eggs
1 cup buttermilk or low-fat yogurt
1 cup whole milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 1/4 cups fresh blueberries, frozen for 4 hours

Frosting
2 1/4 cups powdered sugar
10 tablespoons (1 1/4 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons maple sugar
1/2 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract
4 teaspoons (or more) whole milk

1 cup chilled fresh blueberries
Fresh mint sprigs (optional)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Line two 12-cup muffin pans with paper liners. Sift flour and next 4 ingredients into large bowl. Whisk melted butter and oil in medium bowl. Add eggs; whisk to blend. Whisk in buttermilk, milk, vanilla extract, and peel. Add buttermilk mixture to dry ingredients; whisk just to blend. Stir in frozen blueberries. Divide batter among liners.

Bake cupcakes until tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 23 minutes. Transfer cupcakes to racks; cool.

For frosting:
Combine first 5 ingredients in medium bowl. Add 4 teaspoons milk. Using electric mixer, beat until well blended and fluffy, adding more milk by teaspoonfuls if dry (small granules of maple sugar will still remain), about 4 minutes. Spread frosting over top of cupcakes.

Garnish cupcakes with chilled berries, and mint sprigs, if desired. (Can be made 4 hours ahead. Store in airtight container at room temperature.)

Makes 24.

Bon Appétit
June 2005

BLACK-BOTTOM RASPBERRY CREAM PIE

The "black bottom" is a layer of superb chocolate pudding — plus a chocolate cookie crust. The pie must be chilled overnight before the topping is added.

Crust
Nonstick vegetable oil spray
1 3/4 cups crushed chocolate wafer cookies (about 30 cookies from one 9-ounce package)
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted
1/4 cup sugar

Filling
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (preferably Dutch-process)
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 1/2 cups whole milk, divided
2 large egg yolks
1 large egg
4 ounces bittersweet (not unsweetened) or semisweet chocolate, finely chopped
2 tablespoons (1/4 stick) unsalted butter

Topping
3 1/2-pint containers raspberries
1 cup chilled whipping cream
2 tablespoons powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

For crust:
Spray 9-inch-diameter glass pie dish with nonstick spray. Blend cookie crumbs, butter, and sugar in medium bowl. Press mixture evenly over bottom and up sides (not on rim) of prepared dish. Chill crust 30 minutes.

Preheat oven to 350°F. Bake crust until set, about 10 minutes, then cool.

For filling:
Combine sugar, cocoa, and cornstarch in heavy medium saucepan; whisk to blend well. Gradually add 1/4 cup milk, whisking until cornstarch dissolves. Whisk in remaining 2 1/4 cups milk, then egg yolks and egg. Stir over medium-high heat until pudding thickens and boils, about 8 minutes. Remove from heat. Add chocolate and butter; whisk until melted and smooth. Spread pudding in prepared crust. Press plastic wrap onto pudding to cover and chill pie overnight.

For topping:
Peel plastic wrap off pie. Cover chocolate layer with raspberries, pointed side up, pressing lightly into chocolate to adhere (some berries will be left over). Beat cream, sugar, and vanilla in medium bowl until peaks form; spread over berries on pie. Arrange remaining berries atop cream. Chill pie at least 1 hour and up to 4 hours.

Makes 8 to 10 servings.

Bon Appétit
July 2004

RASPBERRY CAKE WITH MARSALA, CREME FRAICHE, AND RASPBERRIES

Raspberries are both baked in this tender, moist cake and served with it.

1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1/2 cup Marsala
1/4 cup fresh orange juice
14 tablespoons (1 3/4 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup plus 4 tablespoons sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel
4 cups fresh raspberries

2 cups crème fraîche or sour cream

Position rack in center of oven and preheat to 400°F. Butter 10-inch-diameter springform pan. Whisk first 5 ingredients in medium bowl to blend. Combine Marsala and orange juice in small bowl. Beat 12 tablespoons butter and 1 cup sugar in large bowl until well blended. Beat in eggs, vanilla, and lemon peel. Beat in Marsala mixture in 2 additions alternately with flour mixture in 3 additions. Transfer batter to prepared pan. Sprinkle with 1 1/2 cups raspberries.

Bake cake until top is gently set, about 20 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 375°F. Dot top of cake with 2 tablespoons butter and sprinkle with 2 tablespoons sugar. Continue baking until tester inserted into center of cake comes out clean, about 15 minutes. Cool in pan on rack. Release pan sides; transfer cake to platter. Cool to room temperature.

Mix crème fraîche and 2 tablespoons sugar in small bowl. (Cake and crème fraîche mixture can be made 8 hours ahead. Let cake stand at room temperature. Cover and chill crème fraîche mixture.) Cut cake into wedges. Top each with dollop of crème fraîche and fresh raspberries and serve.

Makes 10 servings.

Bon Appétit
June 2002

grilled chicken with tomato tarragon sauce (simply recipes)

2007-05-25T09:00:00.001-07:00

Grilled Chicken with Tomato Tarragon Sauce Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Chicken, Main Course, Quick, Wheat-free

My friend Heidi H prepared this grilled chicken dish for me last month when I was visiting her and family in Massachusetts. It was absolutely delicious and I couldn't wait to try it at home on our grill. The recipe calls for skin-on which we all loved, but you could easily use skinless if you wanted. My father suggests using basil instead of tarragon for another twist on this recipe.

3 Tbsp chopped fresh tarragon (or 1 Tbsp dried tarragon)
3 Tbsp olive oil
1 1/4 teaspoons minced garlic
4 boneless chicken breast halves, skin on (about 1 1/2 pounds)
2 cups chopped fresh tomato (1-2 tomatoes, depending on their size)
2 teaspoons balsamic vinegar
Salt and pepper to taste

1 Get the grill started on medium high heat. While the grill is heating up, whisk together half of the tarragon, half of the oil, and all but 1/4 teaspoon of the minced garlic in a shallow dish. Lightly pound chicken between sheets of waxed paper to uniform 1/2-inch thickness. Sprinkle chicken with salt and pepper. Add chicken to tarragon mixture and turn to coat. Let stand 10 minutes.

2 Meanwhile, in a blender or food processor, blend the tomato and remaining olive oil until smooth. Add the vinegar and remaining tarragon and garlic and pulse until well mixed. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

3 Grill chicken until brown and cooked through, about 4 minutes per side. Transfer chicken to plates. Spoon sauce around chicken.

Raspberry-Topped Lemon Muffins

2007-05-24T14:39:00.000-07:00

Ras
Adapted from Susan Elizabeth Fallon via Bon Appétit, July 2006

Yield: 14 large or 56 miniature muffins

1 1/8 cups sugar, divided
4 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel (from two large lemons)
2 cups all purpose flour
2 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 large egg
1 cup buttermilk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

1 1/2 1/2-pint containers (about) fresh raspberries

Preheat oven to 375°F. Line 14 standard muffin cups (or 56 minis) with paper liners. Mash 1/8 cup sugar and lemon peel in small bowl until sugar is slightly moist. Whisk flour, baking powder, and salt in medium bowl to blend. Using electric mixer, beat remaining 1 cup sugar and butter in large bowl until smooth. Beat in egg. Beat in buttermilk, then vanilla and lemon sugar. Beat in flour mixture.

Divide batter among muffin cups (the 2/3-3/4 level worked well for minis). Top each large muffin with 4 raspberries (or mini muffins with one each). Bake muffins until lightly browned on top and tester inserted into center comes out clean, about 35 minutes (baking time was on the shy side of 20 minutes for mini muffins).

cherry chocolate cupcakes (cupcake bakeshop)

2007-04-27T08:05:00.001-07:00

Cherry Chocolate Cupcakes
14 regular cupcakes / 350 degree oven

1-1/4 cups sugar
3/4 cup flour
3.6 ounces dark chocolate, 1/2 of a 200 gram bar of Valrhona 61% cocao
15 tablespoons butter
4 eggs
3 tablespoons cocoa powder, unsweetened
1 teaspoon baking powder
pinch of salt
1/2 cup dried cherries

1. Chop cherries and transfer to a small bowl. Cover in brandy and set aside to plump overnight.
2. Melt chocolate and butter over a water bath
3. add sugar and stir, let mixture cool for 10 minutes
4. Beat in an electric mixer for 3 minutes
5. Add one egg at a time, mixing for 30 seconds between each
6. Sift the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and a pinch of salt into the mixture and mix until blended
7. Fold in cherries drained of the brandy
8. Scoop into cupcake cups and bake at 350 F for 25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean

black-bottom cupcakes (vanilla garlic)

2007-04-26T13:42:00.001-07:00

Black Bottom Cupcakes

Black bottom cupcakes are total classic Americana. Like chocolate and peanut butter cupcakes or tomato soup cake, many of us grew up with this classic dessert that came out of mom's oven. It's surprising you don't see these classics more often, but over time they've been pushed over by hipper, more contemporary flavor combinations.

I admit I'm guilty of this myself, new flavors can be so much fun to play with and the creation process is more entertaining than a clown car on fire, but there is something to be said for the classics.

Their elegant simplicity.

You can usually depend on your pantry for the ingredients as none of them are ever exotic or expensive. They're often simple recipes, and easy to put together. The perfect recipes for parents to teach their children.

However, the black bottom cupcake's taste is unique and unrivaled. Dark chocolaty cake, with sweetened cream cheese and chunks of chocolate? Common, throw this into an old tin lunch pail with a PB&J, an apple, and a box of juice and you are so set. It's the kind of dessert that brings out the child in you, and makes your children all the happier. You can guarantee they won't be trading lunches with any of their classmates.

I admit, I did put a bit of a modern tweak to this, I split the cream cheese mixture in half and while one half got chocolate, in the other I mixed in blackberry preserves. Fruit and cream cheese just go so well together and with chocolate cake, what's not to love? Both versions are great and should help please everyone you feed them too. They're perfect served with a big glass of milk.

If you're new to baking, looking for culinary trip down memory lane, or teaching a young baker in the kitchen this is the richest and tastiest way to go!

Black Bottom Cupcakes
Makes 21 cupcakes / 350 F oven

What You'll Need...
1 8oz package of cream cheese, softened
1 egg, room temperature
1/3 cup of sugar, plus 1 additional cup
1/2 cup of chocolate chips, roughly chopped
2 teaspoons of blackberry jam
1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour
1/3 cup of unsweetened cocoa powder
1 teaspoon of baking powder
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1 cup of water
1/3 cup of vegetable oil
1 tablespoon of apple cider vinegar or white vinegar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

What You'll Do...
1) Preheat oven to 350 F.
2) In a bowl, combine the cream cheese, egg, and 1/3 cup of sugar and beat until light and fluffy. Split the batter in half, add the chocolate chips to one and the blackberry jam to the other.
3) In a large bowl sift the dry ingredients together. Make a well in the center and pour in the wet ingredients. Mix until just blended.
4) Fill the cupcake papers (or you can lightly grease with cooking spray a cupcake/muffin tray) 1/3 full with the chocolate mixture. Drop in a good dollop of the one of the cream cheese mixtures. Bake for 20-25 minutes. The cheese may depress into the cupcake a bit but don't worry about it.

brie and apple pancakes (passionate cook)

2007-04-26T11:31:00.001-07:00

Brie & apple pancakes with crispy pancetta
(serves 4)

265 g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp bicarbonate of soda
70 g sugar (I am sure you could even cut down to 40 or 30)
1 pinch salt
½ tsp cinnamon
284 ml buttermilk
2 medium eggs
90 ml milk
60 g butter (melted)
150 g brie (rind removed and finely diced)
1 apple (peeled, cored and finely diced)
butter (to fry the pancakes in)
4 dollops crème fraîche
12 thin slices pancetta

Combine the dry ingredients, the add the buttermilk, milk, eggs and butter. Just beat with a fork until thoroughly combined, do not over-work. Fold in the apple and brie dice and heat a non-stick pan. Fry the pancetta in a pan or in the microwave and leave to rest on some kitchen towel to crisp up. Ladle a quarter of the batter into the pan, cook until browning underneath and setting on the upper side, then carefully flip over and cook until golden.
Serve immediately with a dollop of crème fraîche and three strips of pancetta each.

raspberry scones (passionate cook)

2007-04-26T11:28:00.001-07:00

Raspberry scones with vanilla mascarpone

Berries, berries, berries - always on my mind at the moment. Raspberries in particular, because they're just the most perfect fruit ever. No, really. Go to the market, buy some and sit down to admire them with awe. Perfectly formed little red balls, stuck together miraculously, each hiding a precious pearl ... and don't they have the cutest little hairs? Gorgeous, I tell you. In my next life, I want to be a raspberry. Problem is, their life expectancy is not very high. At least not in my house. So I might reconsider and reincarnate as something else.
Last week I was invited to a friend's house for baby chat. Couldn't help trying out a new recipe I found in Good Food magazine. These scones are a real treat as they're both easy to make and low in everything which is generally considered nasty: fat and sugar. A light and summery accompaniment for your coffee or tea and they travel well, so keep them in mind for your next picnic on the beach!

Raspberry scones with vanilla mascarpone
(makes 6 - 8 scones)

225 g self-raising flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 heaped tbsp caster sugar
50 g butter (diced)
200 ml buttermilk
100 g raspberries

Mascarpone cream (optional)
250 g mascarpone
1 vanilla pod
1 tbsp sugar

Preheat the oven to 220 C. Combine the flour, baking powder and sugar in a pan and mix through with a fork. Add the butter and rub between your hands until it has blended in and the flour mix resembles breadcrumbs. Fold in the buttermilk, again using your fork until well combined. Do not work the dough too long, though, you want it to remain light and fluffy. Take the raspberries and fold them in with the dough, using your fingers to push them in lightly without converting them all to mash. Be gentle, so the dough doesn't get too wet.
Divide the mixture in 6 - 8, only loosely shaping it to form round lumps. Do resist rolling them in your hands or pressing the dough together, the less you work it, the fluffier the scones will be. Place them on a non-stick mat and bake in the oven for 15 minutes, until golden brown and cooked through. Cool on a wire rack before serving.

For the mascarpone cream (if using) scrape the vanilla seeds out of the pod and combine them with the mascarpone and sugar in a bowl. Chill until needed.

chocolate-cherry cake (passionate cook)

2007-04-26T11:26:00.000-07:00

Mum's chocolate & cherry "spitting"cake
(yields one 40 x 30 cm tray)

200 g butter (softened)
180 g caster sugar
4 yolks
2 eggs
120 g dark chocolate (melted)
60 g white breadcrumbs
200 g ground almonds
4 egg whites
400 g cherries

Preheat the oven to 175 C. Grease a (40 x 30 cm) baking tray and line with baking parchment.
Beat the butter and sugar until pale and creamy. Meanwhile, meld the chocolate in a bain marie or in the microwave and leave to cool slightly. Add the yolks and eggs, then combine with the chocolate.
Mix in the breadcrumbs and almonds, then beat the egg whites until stiff and fold into the chocolate dough.
Spread the dough evenly on the tray, then cover with the cherries, gently pushing them in about half-way.
Bake for ca. 40 minutes until a metal stick comes out clean when you insert it into the dough. Leave to cool and dust with ising sugar just before serving.

fudge brownies (101 cookbooks)

2007-04-26T11:05:00.000-07:00

Moosewood Fudge Brownies

Heidi notes: I used 71% Valrhona chocolate. White whole wheat flour works great if you would like to substitute. I also added espresso powder, half of a large ripe banana, and about a cup of toasted walnuts (per Mollie's suggestions at the tail end of the recipe). I topped them with a sprinkling of walnuts before going in the oven as well.

Let soften: 1/2 lb. butter (don't melt it)

Melt: 5 oz. bittersweet chocolate. Let cool.

Cream the butter with 1 3/4 cups (packed) light brown sugar and 5 eggs. Add 1 1/2 tsp. pure vanilla extract. Beat in the melted, cooled chocolate and 1 cup flour.

Spread into a buttered 9x13" baking pan. Bake 20-30 minutes (hs note: mine took 30) at 350 degrees.

Optional: chopped nuts, or 1 tablespoon instant coffee, or 1 teaspoon grated fresh orange or lemon rind, or 1/2 teaspoon allspice or cinnamon, or a mashed over-ripe banana, or none of the above.

Yet another option: instead of uniformly blending in the chocolate, you can marble it. Add chocolate last, after the flour is completely blended in and only partially blend in the chocolate. It looks real nice.

ricotta and orange tart (spittoon extra)

2007-04-25T12:59:00.001-07:00

Ricotta and Orange Tart (Serves 6)

200g plain flour
50g icing sugar plus extra for dusting
100g unsalted butter chilled and cubed
Grated zest of 1 orange, plus 3 tbsp orange juice
2 eggs, plus 1 egg yolk
350g ricotta
55g caster sugar
1 tbsp orange flower water
140g good orange marmalade
30g pine nuts

Pastry - mix the flour, icing sugar, cubes of butter and half the orange zest. Add the egg yolk and orange juice and mix until it comes together. Wrap in cling film and chill for 30 minutes.

Roll the pastry out on a lightly floured work surface and use to line a deep, loose-bottomed tin. They suggest a 35cm x 11cm fluted tart tin, mine is round. Chill for 15 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 180°C/fan160°C/gas 4. Line the tart with baking paper and baking beans and bake blind for 10 minutes. Remove paper and beans and bake for a further 5 minutes, until crisp and golden. Cool slightly.

Mix the ricotta, caster sugar and orange water, remaining eggs and orange zest. Spread the bottom of the tart with marmalade then top with the the filling. Sprinkle with the nuts. Bake for 20 minutes, until lightly set. Cool slightly and remove from the tin. Dust with icing sugar and serve warm.

duck with peaches and sesame noodles (rachel's bite)

2007-04-25T09:00:00.001-07:00

Duck Steaks with Roasted Peaches
(serves 4)

Ingredients:
2 ripe peaches, halved and pitted
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Extra-virgin olive oil

2 duck breasts (about 1 1/4 pound total)
Toasted sesame oil
Cold Sesame Noodles (recipe follows)
Watercress, for garnish
Lime wedges, for garnish
Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Sprinkle the peaches all over with salt and pepper. Put them cut sides up on a baking sheet and drizzle with olive oil. Throw them in the oven and roast until the peaches are very tender when you stick a knife in them, 15 to 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, put the duck breasts on a cutting board skin side up and score all over in a tiny crosshatch pattern so that as much of the fat as possible will render and the skin will crisp. Season all over with salt and pepper and drizzle with sesame oil. Film the bottom of a large saute pan with olive oil and put the pan over medium heat. Add the breasts, skin side down, and cook slowly for about 10 minutes, until the fat is rendered and the skin is browned and crispy. Occasionally dump the fat out into a bowl. Turn the breasts and cook on the other side for 1 or 2 more minutes for medium-rare. Take the breasts out of the pan and put them on a platter to rest.

Cold Sesame Noodles
(serves 4)

Ingredients:
Kosher salt
1/2 pound dried buckwheat (soba) noodles
9 tablespoons toasted sesame oil
1-inch piece of fresh ginger
2 garlic cloves
1 fresh red Thai chile or 1 jalapeno chile, minced, seeds and all
2 tablespoons brown sugar
1/2 cup creamy peanut butter
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1/4 cup low-sodium soy sauce
6 tablespoons hot water
1 tablespoon chile sauce or 1 teaspoon sambal
1 tablespoon sesame seeds, toasted
2 scallions, white and green parts, thinly sliced on the diagonal

Instructions:
Cook the soba noodles in a large pot of salted boiling water. Cook until barely tender and still firm, 3 to 4 minutes. Drain in a colander and rinse under cold running water to cool. Drain the noodles really well, transfer to a wide serving bowl, and toss immediately with 3 tablespoons of the sesame oil.

Peel the ginger and garlic cloves and smack with the back of a knife. In a saucepan, heat 4 tablespoons of the sesame oil over medium-low heat. Add the ginger, garlic, and chile. Cook, stirring for a minute until the vegetables are soft and fragrant. Dump that into a blender along with the brown sugar, peanut butter, vinegar, soy sauce, hot water, chile sauce, and the remaining 2 tablespoons of sesame oil; puree and refrigerate until cold.

Toss the noodles with the peanut sauce. Sprinkle with the sesame seeds and scallions.

chocolate banana bread (rachel's bite)

2007-04-25T08:50:00.001-07:00

Chocolate Banana Bread

Ingredients:
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened, plus more for the pan
2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted
2 large eggs
3 very ripe bananas
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Instructions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9 by 5-inch loaf pan. Mix together th flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking powder, and salt ina large bowl. IN another bowl, cream the butter until lightened, then beat in the chocolate, eggs, bananas, and vanilla. Stir in the dry ingredients just until combined; do not overbeat.

Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake until a toothpick stuck into the center of the bread comes out almost clean, 50 to 60 minutes. Transfer the pan to a rack and cool for at least 15 minutes before unmolding.

strawberry yogurt verrine (la tartine gourmande)

2007-04-25T08:45:00.000-07:00

Strawberry Yogurt Verrine

(For 4 glasses)

You need :

The yogurt:

2 cups plain yogurt
4 Tbsp brown cane sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract

The strawberries:

1 lb 2 oz strawberries, diced

2 Tbsp muscat

2/3 cup unsalted pistachios, in their shells

4 Tsp brown cane sugar

Zest of 2 limes and the juice

Mint, chopped

The raspberry sauce:

1 cup raspberry purée (or juice)/ or berry purée

1 Tbsp cornstarch, diluted in 2 Tbsp water

A few drops of lemon juice

Steps:

Wash and dice the strawberries.
Shell and chop the pistachios coarsely.
Chop the mint.
Mix the sugar, lime zest, lime juice, muscat in a small bowl.
Add the strawberries. Place them in the fridge for 30 min to macerate.
Mix the yogurt with the brown cane sugar and vanilla extract. Keep on the side.
Heat the raspberry purée with a few drops of lemon.
Dilute the cornstarch in a few Tbsp of cold water and add to the warm purée. Bring to a first boil and stir until it gets thicker. Let cool and divide between four glasses.
Add the yogurt.
Add the strawberries and serve.

frozen cherry mousse (sweet and savory)

2007-04-25T07:26:00.001-07:00

Frozen Cherry and White Chocolate Mousse

- 1 1/2 tsp unflavored gelatin***
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1 2/3 cup cherry puree*
- 1/3 cup of juice from cherries*
- 12 ounces white chocolate, chopped
- 2 cups whipping cream
- 3/4 cup powdered sugar
- 1 tsp vanilla

*Note on the cherries: I used the jarred morello cherries from Trader Joe's. It required just over one jar to get the puree, and that provided more than enough juice. I drained the cherries, reserving the juice, then tossed them into the food processor until I had 1 2/3 cup.

**I used two disposable foil cake pans from the grocery store for the mousse. They were 12 inches x 8 1/2 inches. I lined them with parchment paper. I am thinking that one of my large baking sheets would have worked fine.

***For the record, this was the first (and probably last) time gelatin has ever entered my kitchen.

Place juice in large saucepan. Sprinkle with gelatin and allow to sit for about 20 minutes. Add puree and sugar, stir over medium heat until mixture begins to steam, just shy of a simmer. Add white chocolate and mix until it has all melted. Stick in refrigerator for about two hours, stirring about every 20-25 minutes.

When cherry-chocolate mixture is cool, beat whipping cream, powdered sugar, and vanilla until whipped cream has stiff peaks. Fold in cherry mixture, then beat briefly for another 10-15 seconds. Pour into the two prepared pans and freeze until firm.

pomegranate orange blossom syrup (morsels and musings)

2007-04-25T07:25:00.002-07:00

Muhallabiah Mousse (white chocolate and almond)
Anna’s very own recipe. Serve 6 in small portions.
Ingredients:
240g white chocolate
1½ cups milk
1 cup cream
½ cup sugar
1 cup ground almonds (almond meal)
1 tablespoon orgeat (almond syrup)
½ tablespoon gelatine
Method:
1. Bring milk, sugar, orgeat and almond meal to the boil. Remove from heat and allow to infuse for 20-30 minutes.
2. In a heatproof bowl, sprinkle gelatine over 3 tablespoons of cold water and allow to go spongy (about 5-10 minutes).
3. Melt chocolate.
4. Strain milk mixture over a fine sieve to remove almond meal.
5. Pour boiling water from an electric kettle into a saucepan, then place gelatine mixture over steam, stirring until gelatine has dissolved.
6. Stir gelatine, chocolate and milk mixtures together.
7. Whip cream until firm peaks form.
8. Fold milk and chocolate mixture into whipped cream.
9. Spoon into serving glasses and refrigerate overnight.
10. Serve with generous spoonfuls of Pomegranate & Orange Blossom Syrup.

Pomegranate & Orange Blossom Syrup
Amended from Taking Tea in the Medina by Julie Le Clerc. Serves 6.
Ingredients:
¼ cup slivered almonds
¼ cup slivered pistachio nuts
¼ cup pinenuts
1 pomegranate
2/3 cup sugar syrup
1-2 teaspoon orange blossom water
Method:
1. Place all nuts in a bowl and cover with cold water. Soak for 1 hour then drain well.
2. Halve pomegranate and remove seeds, being careful to discard the white pith.
3. Combine sugar syrup with orange blossom water, then mix with nuts and pomegranate seeds.
4. Chill well until serving.

Muhallabiah is a milk pudding served all over the Middle East, but most of the recipes flavoured with almond seem to be Iranian or Lebanese. Since I served this dessert after a main course of fesenjân, a Persian stew based on pomegranates, I have to lean towards the Iranian influence.

vanilla honey mascarpone mousse (peabody)

2007-04-25T07:25:00.001-07:00

Vanilla Honey Mascarpone Mousse

2 Tablespoon half and half
1/2 cup mascarpone cheese
1 TBSP honey
1 vanilla bean
1 egg white
1/3 cup granulated sugar
1/2 cup heavy cream

Cut vanilla bean in the half. Reserve the other half for later. Scape seeds from one half of the bean into half and half. Heat half and half in a sauce pan just until it starts to bubble and take off of heat. Let cool.
Blend together the Mascarpone cheese and the honey. Pour the milk in the Mascarpone mixture and combine.
Scrape the other half of the vanilla bean and put in cream, whisk to incorporate. Whip heavy cream and refrigerate.
Whip the egg white and the sugar forming a glossy but not too stiff merginue.
Pour the mixture of Mascarpone in the whipped egg white, using a spatula,
combine gently.
Fold in the whip cream and combine gently.
Refrigerate for one hour.

honey and orange mousse (64 sqft kitchen)

2007-04-25T07:24:00.003-07:00

Honey and orange iced mousse:

Recipe:
- 1 large egg + 3 egg yolks
- 2 tsp orange zest
- ½ cup wild flowers honey
- 1 ¼ cups heavy cream

Beat the eggs with the honey and the orange zest until fluffy and well incorporated. Beat the heavy cream to a soft peak. Fold gently the cream into the mixture with a rubber spatula. Freeze for 8 h in ramequins lined with plastic wrap. The mousse will never freeze completely, even if you let it for days in the freezer. Serve with orange rinds on top.

strawberry mousse (taste and tell)

2007-04-25T07:24:00.001-07:00

Strawberry Mousse

1 pkg unflavored gelatin
1/4 c cold water
1 pint strawberries, hulled and sliced
1/4 c granulated sugar
lemon zest
1 c cream
3 T powdered sugar

Strawberry Daiquiri Sauce

1/2 pint strawberries, hulled and sliced
2 T granulated sugar
2 t cornstarch
1 1/2 T light rum
lemon zest

1. Sprinkle gelatin over cold water in a saucepan, let sit for 1 minute to soften. Stir over low heat until gelatin is dissolved. Remove
2. Put berries, sugar, lemon zest and gelatin in a food processor or blender and puree. Pour into a bowl, and place in the refrigerator for about an hour.
3. Beat the cream and powdered sugar until soft peaks form. Put 1/4 cream into berry mixture and stir. Fold in remaining cream. Chill for 2 hours.

For the sauce

1. Combine berries, lemon zest and sugar in a food processor or blender and puree. Put in a saucepan, adding cornstarch and rum. Whisk cornstarch to remove any lumps.
2. Cook on medium heat, stirring often, until mixture thickens.
3. Remove from heat and place in refrigerator until ready to serve.

I LOVED this. It felt really light and refreshing (even though I know how much cream was in it!!) I loved the addition of the lemon zest to give it just a touch of that lemony flavor. I have been cooking with alcohol quite a bit lately, and although I don't drink it, I loved the daiquiri spin on the sauce. I had some extra cream left, so I made some extra whipped cream to serve on top, and it was wonderful. I also served it with a bit of fresh lemon zest on top, and aside from looking really yummy, it tasted very yummy!!

mousse cake (cherryleader)

2007-04-25T07:22:00.000-07:00

White chocolate mousse cake with little red gems

Adapted from Gorgeous Cakes of Annie Bell

Mousse and Fruit
400 ml double cream
250g white chocolate, broken into pieces
1 pomegranate, taken seeds out

Sponge
100 g plain flour
pinch of sea salt
6 large eggs
150 g castor sugar
1 tbsp pomegranate juice

Bring the cream to the boil in a small saucepan. Pour half over the chocolate in a bowl, leave for 1-2 minutes to soften, stir until it is almost melted, then pour the rest over and stir until smooth. Leave to cool, then cover and chill for at least 1 hour.

To make the sponge, preheat the oven to 180C and butter two 23 cm sandwich or deep cake tin with removable bases. Sift the flour into a bowl and add the salt. Put the eggs in a bowl and whisk for about 8-10 minutes using an electric mixer until the mixture is almost white and mousse-like. Lightly fold in the flour in two goes. Divide the mixture between the prepared tins, and give them a couple of sharp taps on the worktop to eliminate any large bubbles. Bake for 12-14 minutes or until the sponge is light golden, springy to the touch, shrinking from the sides and a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean. The cake on the lower shelf may need a few minutes longer. Remove from the oven and run a knife around the edges to loosen them. Leave to cool, when the cake will sink a little.

Given the delicacy of the sponge, the cake is best assembled on the plate you want to serve it from. Loosen both sponges using a palette knife and put one on a plate. Using an electric mixer beat the mousse until it forms soft but firm peaks, taking care to stop whisking before it turns grainy. As long as it is thick enought to spread. It will firm up further on cooling. Spread one third of it over the surface of one sponge, sandwich with the second sponge and spread another third over the top. Use the remainder to coat the sides of the cake - you may need a small knife to do the bottom sponge. Clean the edges of the plate with kitchen paper. Chill the cake for a couple of hours for the mousse to set. If keeping it any longer than this, cover with clingfilm at this point.

Just before serving, scatter the pomegranate seeds over the top of the cake. Like a trifle, the cake itself should be served lightly chilled, but the fruit is nicest at room temperature.

rosebud creme brulee (dessert first)

2007-04-25T07:14:00.001-07:00

Rosebud Crème Brûlée

makes about 6 servings in 4 1/2 ounce ramekins

2 cups heavy cream

1/8 teaspoon vanilla seeds, or 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

3 ounces egg yolks (about 4-5 eggs)

2 ounces sugar

1/4 teaspoon Grand Marnier

1/2 teaspoon rose water

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees F.

Find a baking pan that will fit all of the ramekins you plan to use. The sides of the pan should be at least as high as the ramekins. Line the bottom of the baking pan with a towel.

Heat the cream and vanilla in a medium saucepan on medium heat until it comes to a boil. Remove from heat and let sit for about 10 minutes for the vanilla to infuse.

Whisk the eggs and sugar together in a bowl.

Slowly pour about a third of the hot cream into the eggs, whisking all the time to prevent the eggs from curdling.

Pour the tempered eggs back into the cream, whisking constantly until combined. Whisk gently to prevent bubbles from forming.

Strain the mixture into a clean bowl.

Add the Grand Marnier and rose water and let the custard cool slightly.

Arrange the ramekins in the baking pan on top of the towel. Using a ladle, carefully, pour the custard into the ramekins, filling just below the rim. Try to fill all of the ramekins to the same height so they will bake evenly.

Carefully pour hot water into the baking pan until it comes up about 2/3 of the way up the sides of the ramekins. Do not let the water get into the pan.

Carefully place the baking pan into the oven and bake for about 45 minutes to an hour until set. I checked at about half an hour and at 45 minutes, but don't open the oven door too often or you'll lose all the heat and the custards will not cook. You can check the progress of the custards by sticking a paring knife into the custard slightly away from the center. If it comes out covered in liquidy custard, it's not done yet. Also, if you lightly touch the center of the custard and your fingertip comes away covered in custard it is also not done.

When the custards are done, they should shimmy slightly when you move the pan (careful not to spill water!) but the center should not move separately. If, however, it has set like Jello and there are bubbles forming on the top it is becoming overcooked and you should remove the custards immediately. If the custards start rising at any point they have become overcooked.

After you remove the baking pan from the oven and the ramekins have cooled enough to handle, remove the ramekins, cover them, and chill in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours before serving.

When you are ready to serve the crème brûlées, take one ramekin at a time and sprinkle the top with sugar evenly over the top. Using a hand-held blowtorch, carefully caramelize the sugar. Keep the flame at least 2 inches from the sugar to prevent burning the sugar. You can also caramelize the sugar under a broiler.

Let the sugar cool for a couple of minutes before serving. Do not brûlée the custards more than 20 minutes before serving or the sugar may melt.

fresh spring dessert (writing at the kitchen table)

2007-04-17T12:18:00.001-07:00

For dessert I wanted to celebrate the warm days so it was out with the rich chocolate puds and in with a light fruity dish, pinched from the ever-reliable Nigel Slater. Plums de-stoned and halved, the pink cavities filled with whole raspberries and then each half is smeared with a generous spoonful of creamy mascarpone cheese, gently scented with vanilla extract. This luscious dessert is then sprinkled with demerara sugar and put under a hot grill under golden and bubbling.
What is most wonderful is, depending on what time of year it is you can alter the fruits (i.e. peaches, poaches pears) and the filling (blackberries, blueberries, ground almonds or a whole ball of marzipan) to suit what is in season or to suit your palate. And it only takes 2 minutes to make! The perfect ending.

2007-04-16T11:21:00.000-07:00

April 15, 2007

Have Spatula Will Travel

By TAYLOR HOLLIDAY

INSIGHTS that might never occur to you while eating hot yogurt soup in a restaurant in Istanbul suddenly take on a surprising clarity when making that soup yourself in a hotel kitchen there — the combination of the delicate egg yolks, tangy yogurt, lemon and mint evoking both a past where nomadic Turks first turned milk into yogurt and a present where their descendants eat the thick and creamy creation with almost every meal.

Two summers ago, that moment was mine. I stood in an intimate cooking class at the Sarnic Hotel, in Sultanahmet, or Old Istanbul, as the hotel’s chef guided me and four other students (my friend Carla, a Canadian couple also on vacation in Istanbul and a Japanese woman living in the city) through the preparation of a five-course traditional Turkish meal in the Sarnic’s unfussy professional kitchen.

The melding of both culinary and cultural lessons began in the lobby of the lovely Sarnic where Eveline Zoutendijk, the Dutch proprietor and host of the cooking class, greeted us and gave a short introduction to the long history of Turkish food. “The Turks were nomads,” she explained, “which is why they eat flatbread, yogurt, cheese and grilled meats. It was the Ottomans who later used saffron, pistachios, rice and other expensive, imported items.”

In the Sarnic’s kitchen, we tied on our aprons, took up our knives and instantly became prep and sous chefs for the morning. As cooks everywhere in Turkey do, Murat Ozdemir, then the chef at the Sarnic, began his day by deciding which of about 200 Turkish eggplant dishes to serve. He showed us how to shave zebra stripes on the eggplant with a vegetable peeler and halve it lengthwise, making two vessels to hold heaping fillings of onions, tomatoes, dill, basil and mint, and then how to braise them in luxurious amounts of olive oil. Ms. Zoutendijk told us, meanwhile, that the name of this famous dish, imam bayildi, was translated as “the imam fainted” because a certain imam was said to have swooned while eating it and the fragrant olive oil dribbled down his chin.

As the chef demonstrated how to prepare steaming-hot, stuffed vine leaves — and we student-chefs washed and trimmed the grape leaves, rolled them up with lamb, rice and herbs and placed them in the pot to simmer — there was talk of the early Turkic empires and how they borrowed recipes from the kitchens they conquered, such as this originally Persian delight.

By the time the dessert of saffron-rosewater pudding had cooked and cooled, and we had garnished it with pistachios and pomegranate seeds, the Ottoman Empire, with its taste for the most luxurious of ingredients, had come viscerally alive.

We felt a bit like sultans ourselves as we lunched on our own multi-course meal in the hotel’s rooftop dining room, where we could gaze directly upon the magnificent Blue Mosque and even imagine the Hagia Sofia just beyond, its A.D. 537 Christian domes flanked by post-1453 Muslim minarets. On our table, a distinctly Turkish marriage of ingredients from east and west was paired with a glass of crisp white wine. We happily soaked in the sun as well as the fact that we had come to know this city and its incredibly rich history a little better through its food.

Ever since a trip to Vietnam two years ago, during which I toured the exotic food markets of Nha Trang with the hotel chef at the Ana Mandara resort and learned how to make my own rice paper for spring rolls at cooking schools in Hoi An, I have been convinced that there is no better way to get to the heart of any city than through its cuisine. And that means not just eating it, but shopping for it, cooking it and beginning to understand it. Step off the expected tourist track for as little as one morning or afternoon in a cooking class and you can witness and be a part of living history, as kitchens are often the last great bastions of cultural tradition in the modern world.

Planning my trip to Istanbul, on what would be my first visit to the city, I knew I had to find a cooking class. I promised myself that by the time I got back, I would not only be familiar with the food, I would be able to whip up authentic Turkish dishes myself.

I am obviously not alone in my desire to use a vacation as a culinary learning experience. One glance at Web sites for either ShawGuides (cookforfun.shawguides.com) or the International Kitchen (www.theinternationalkitchen.com) and you’ll find an ever-growing list of culinary schools and vacations around the world. These vacations most often last several days and are fantastic if you have the time, money and inclination to take a more-structured trip. But as culinary destinations, hotels like the Sarnic generally require a much smaller commitment—perfect for those traveling with a noncooking spouse or friend — while offering both ease and expertise. Just head to the kitchen and get cooking with a master.

“While there are no statistics on this, we’ve definitely noticed a surge in offerings by hotels in the past five years,” said Erik Wolf, president of the International Culinary Tourism Association. Hotels have taken note not only of the growing interest in cooking but of the popularity of TV shows on the Food Network and Travel Channel that combine food and travel. “But there are a couple different levels when it comes to quality,” he continued, “with some hotels just trying to capitalize on the trend and others doing it really well.”

Regardless of form, all the best cooking classes dish up a little culinary history to accompany the local ingredients and cooking methods. The difference among them has more to do with how they impart that sense of culture and tradition. Some hotels offer an array of classes in the basics of their national cuisine, allowing you to come back for seconds or thirds to learn new things. Others focus on getting you out of the kitchen and into the local market to soak up the full range of the cooking experience. And while some serve their classes family-style, giving outsiders a rare look at how home cooks do it, others offer the opportunity to rub shoulders and knives with culinary stars.

EXPAND YOUR REPERTOIRE

The best part about taking classes in a cuisine you already tend to cook, such as Italian or Mexican, is the chance to expand on your repertoire and see how it’s done in the home country. It’s even better when you can just roll out of bed each morning and tackle a different menu, spending one day on Neapolitan-style pizza and perhaps returning on another for pasta, as you can at the Sorrento Cooking School at the Esperidi Resort on the Amalfi Coast in Italy.

Likewise, in Mexico, you might start with chalupas and end with chiles rellenos, as did Joan Leach, a retired school administrator from Fort Worth, Tex., when she and three friends headed to Puebla last September for what she calls “serious hands-on cooking classes” at the boutique hotel Mesón Sacristía de Capuchinas. Though she admits she doesn’t often attempt the “out of this world” chiles rellenos, she does frequently make both the green and red salsas, the basis for dishes including killer chilaquiles verdes. “Chef Alonso Hernández truly wanted us to leave with the ability to cook the traditional Mexican dishes and with an appreciation for the culinary tradition,” said Ms. Leach, 62, on TripAdvisor. “He succeeded beautifully.”

OFF TO MARKET

Foreign food markets can be otherworldly and overwhelming to first-time visitors, and the excitement of discovering a seemingly endless assortment of new foods can be outweighed by pungent smells, shocking sights and intimidating proprietors.

A guide can turn trepidation into sheer joy as he stops to explain what the crazy-looking dragon fruit is and what you do with it or steers you toward the best soup stall and lets you in on its delicious secrets, as one of the kitchen staff at the Amansara Resort in Cambodia is likely to do during a tour of the labyrinthine Old Market in Siem Reap. Similarly, in Chiang Mai, the foodie capital of Thailand, the Four Seasons Resort begins its class with a venture to one of the city’s legendary markets.

And while it’s hard to top the sensory adventure of an Asian market, Rungis outside of Paris, the largest fresh-food wholesale market in the world since it replaced the legendary Les Halles, promises thrills like no other. Those outside the food trade aren’t normally allowed entry to the 573-acre market, which makes the package offered by the InterContinental Paris Le Grand Hotel a rare treat. This day-in-the-life-of-a-chef experience begins with a 3:30 a.m. visit to Rungis with the chef of the hotel’s Café de la Paix restaurant, Laurent Delarbre (or his assistant). Put your walking shoes on and dive in, winding through the various pavilions, past the 19 varieties of pears, the countless superbly smelly cheeses and the de-haired pigs’ trotters before stopping at the squirming lobsters to choose one for the lobster salad with passion fruit that will be made in class.

FAMILY STYLE

Even though top hotels are justifiably proud of their chefs, they also know that when it comes to the kitchen, Mama often knows best. At the the Oberoi Vanyavilas in Rajasthan, India, guests learn about both resort cooking and home cooking, with one of the chefs who grew up in the area sharing recipes handed down from his grandmother and prepared over a traditional charcoal stove. While in Morocco, guests at La Maison Arabe are taken under the wing of the hotel dada. Generations of well-off Moroccan families have been well fed by a dada, a housekeeper/cook, traditionally from sub-Saharan Africa, who has mastered the art of couscous, and you will be too.

Or you can learn from the entire family at the Amandari resort in Bali. Its one-day culinary immersion takes place in a nearby Balinese village. The matriarch demonstrates how to make spicy sambals, or cooking pastes, and dishes simmer with meat and fruit over a charcoal stove. Just like in the United States, the patriarch will be out back grilling, or in this case spit-roasting a suckling pig, while guests help prepare and present offerings for the family temple. (Is there any doubt the gods will be smiling?)

SEEING STARS

Though “starred” and otherwise acclaimed chefs seldom have time for one-on-ones with devotees, there are some exceptions. The Michelin two-star chef Raymond Blanc, is one example. Though he leaves most of the teaching to his staff at Le Manoir aux Quat’Saisons, his English country house hotel in Great Milton, Oxford, the master does lead a class in Nutrition et la Cuisine Moderne, so he himself can disabuse students of the notion that healthy eating means calorie-counting.

And there will certainly be no calorie-counting at the Michelin one-star La Table du Baltimore at the Sofitel Baltimore Paris, where the chef Jean-Philippe Perol leads guests in the preparation of seasonal dishes such as seabream roasted with olives or saddle of rabbit and a master sommelier guides them to wines

No fewer than three masters step up to the plate for the Symphony of Pasta class at Villa San Michele, a former monastery on a hilltop overlooking Florence. The hotel’s own chef and those of the Hotel Cipriani in Venice and the Hotel Caruso in Ravello bring home the diversity of Italian cooking.

Carolyn Landolfo, a cardiologist from Augusta, Ga., took a course last May that was a Christmas gift from her husband. “We each ground our own flour to make whole-grain pappardelle with sheep cheese and fresh herbs from the garden,” she said. Not only does she still make most of the recipes she learned—including the octopus, which she “never in a million years would have tried at home before the class”— but she also took away techniques for making savory dishes with only a few simple ingredients. “And when I got home,” said Dr. Landolfo, 44, “I planted an herb garden because I felt like I couldn’t live without them.”

Cooking abroad really can change how you cook at home. Carla and I left our Istanbul cooking class and headed straight to the 400-year-old Spice Bazaar, armed with our newly gained knowledge of Turkish ingredients as well as market tips from our teachers and fellow foodie travelers. Though I watched in disbelief as Carla bought a kilo of red pepper flakes (that’s right, 2.2 pounds) and had it vacuum-packed to take home. We also stocked up on dried mint, lemony sumac and long, flat, metal kebab skewers that were worth the extra interrogation at the airport X-ray machine.

I now use those ornate mini-swords for grilling just about everything, but particularly for eggplant, in just one of my now-numerous recipes using Turkey’s favorite vegetable. I fire-roast them, I braise them, I drench them in olive oil, I serve them with yogurt, and I swoon like the imam when I eat them.

“Ellerinize saglik,” or “Health to your hands” I think to myself each time, remembering how the Turks begin a meal not just by blessing the food, but the cook as well. “Ellerinize saglik.”

TAYLOR HOLLIDAY is a frequent contributor to the Travel section.

honey-rose ice cream with pomegranate syrup

2007-04-13T12:26:00.000-07:00

Honey-Rose Ice Cream
Tools: sauce pan, strainer, ice cream maker

Ingredients:

1/2 cup mild honey
6 large egg yolks
1 1/2 cups milk (I used whole milk)
1 cup heavy cream
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
1 tsp rose water
1/4 cup candied rose petals (I made mine using 2 organic roses, according to the recipe found here.)
Optional topping: Pomegranate syrup. (Instructions for making it can be found here.)

In a medium mixing bowl, beat the honey with the egg yolks until thickened and pale yellow. Set aside.

Add the rosewater to your milk, bring the mixture to a simmer in a heavy medium-sized sauce pan. Remove from the heat and slowly beat the hot liquid into the honey mixture. Briefly rinse your saucepan and rub dry with paper towel or cloth. Pour the mixture back into the saucepan and place over low heat. Stir constantly with a whisk or wooden spoon until the custard thickens slightly. Be careful not to let the mixture boil or the eggs will scramble. Remove from the heat and pour the hot honey custard through a strainer into a large, clean bowl. Allow the custard to cool slightly, about five minutes, then stir in the cream and vanilla. Cover and refrigerate until cold (about 5 hours) or overnight.

Stir the chilled custard, then freeze in 1 or 2 batches in your ice cream machine according to the manufacturer’s instructions. Add 1/4 cup candied rose petals to the machine when the cream is semi frozen. Allow the machine to mix in the flowers.When finished, the ice cream will be soft but ready to eat. For firmer ice cream, transfer to a freezer-safe container and freeze for at least 3 hours.

Variation: Instead of rose water you can use orange blossom water. Instead of candied rose petals you can also use candied violet petals.

4 cups pomegranate juice
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

For Syrup: Place the pomegranate juice, sugar and lemon juice in a 4-quart saucepan set over medium heat. Cook, stirring occasionally, until the sugar has completely dissolved. Once the sugar has dissolved, reduce the heat to medium-low and cook until the mixture has reduced to 1 1/2 cups, approximately 50 minutes. It should be the consistency of syrup. Remove from the heat and allow to cool in the saucepan for 30 minutes. Transfer to a glass jar and allow to cool completely before covering and storing in the refrigerator for up to 6 months.

honey-vanilla challah (baking and books)

2007-04-13T12:23:00.001-07:00

Honey-Vanilla Challah
Adapted from “The Bread Bible” by Beth Hensperger, “The Good Enough to Eat Breakfast Cookbook” by Carrie Levin, “The Bread Baker’s Apprentice” by Peter Reinhart and “The Bread Bible” by Rose Levy Beranbaum.
Ingredients: Makes 1 Loaf

1/2 tablespoon active dry yeast
4 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 teaspoon salt
4 1/4 to 4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup of warm milk (whole is best, low-fat is ok too)
2 eggs + 1 for the glaze
4 tablespoons of olive oil + 1 teaspoon for greasing the bowl and another for the glaze
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 tablespoon honey

In a large bowl combine the yeast, sugar, salt and 1 cup of flour. Add the milk, 2 eggs, 4 tablespoons of oil, honey and vanilla. With a whisk, vigorously mix the ingredients until smooth, about 3 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl halfway through. Add the remaining flour, 1/2 cup at a time, switching to a wooden spoon when necessary. Continue mixing the dough until it is too stiff to stir.

Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until soft and springy and a layer of blisters shows under the skin, about 4 minutes. Dust with flour only 1 tablespoon at a time as needed to prevent sticking. The dough needs to be slightly firm so that you can braid it later on.

Place the dough in a deep container greased with 1 tsp of olive oil. Turn the dough once to coat the top and cover with plastic wrap. Allow it to rise at room temperature until doubled in bulk, about 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper or lightly grease it with non-stick spray. Gently deflate the dough. Turn out onto a lightly floured surface. Divide into 3 equal portions, and roll each portion out into a smooth, thick strip about 20 to 25 inches long, with the ends slightly thinner than the middle. Lay these “snakes” side-by-side, not quite touching. Beginning in the middle and working towards you, braid the lower half. To braid, alternately move the outside braids over the center one - left over, right over, left over -until you come to the end. Now go to the other side of your working space and braid the other half, this time moving the outside braids under the center one. (If you’re unsure how to braid you may want to practice with some rope beforehand.) Braid tightly - you don’t want any gaps - and when you finish braiding each side crimp the tapered ends together, then tuck them under.

Place the braided dough on your baking sheet, cover loosely with plastic wrap and let rise until almost doubled in bulk 30 to 40 minutes. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F.

Just before the rising time has finished whisk together 1 egg and 1 teaspoon of olive oil, this is going to be the glaze for your bread. Gently brush the dough with a thick layer of it. Place the dough in the oven and bake for 30 to 35 minutes, or until the bread is a deep golden brown and sounds hollow when you thump it on the bottom. Transfer to a baking rack to cool. Allow to cool completely before slicing - or at least wait until it’s warm, not hot - then enjoy!

from 64sqft kitchen

2007-04-13T12:18:00.000-07:00

Chocolate crepes: Pierre Hermes recipe
- 3 oz of all purpose flour
- 3 ½ tbsp unsweetened cocoa
- 1 ½ tbsp sugar
- 2 large eggs at room temp
- 1 cup of whole milk
- 3 tbsp orange juice at room temp
- 2 tbsp melted butter

In a saucepan, heat the milk just until warm. Put the flour, the butter, the eggs, the sugar and the juice in a blender and blend until all combined. Gradually, add the milk. Blend for another 15 sec. Cover the batter and set aside for 1 h.
For the cooking, follow the cooking instructions of the vanilla crepes.

vegan cupcakes for graem

2007-04-13T09:28:00.002-07:00

Cookies 'n' Cream Cupcakes

Related Story The Washington Post, November 29, 2006

Cuisine: American
Course: Dessert

Summary:

These vegan cupcakes, which will make you nostalgic for childhood, are simple to prepare.

1 dozen

Ingredients:

For the cupcakes

1 cup flour
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder (Dutch process or regular)
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup soy milk
1 teaspoon apple cider vinegar
3/4 cup sugar
1/3 cup canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract, chocolate extract or more vanilla extract
10 vegan chocolate cream-filled sandwich cookies, such as Newman-O's, coarsely chopped

For the frosting

1/2 cup nonhydrogenated shortening
1/2 cup nonhydrogenated margarine, such as Earth Balance
3 1/2 cups confectioners' sugar, sifted if clumpy
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 cup plain soy milk or soy creamer
5 vegan chocolate cream-filled sandwich cookies, such as Newman-O's, finely mashed, plus 6 of the cookies, cut in half, for garnish

Directions:

For the cupcakes: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line 12 muffin cups with paper or aluminum foil liners.

In a medium bowl or on a large square of waxed paper, sift together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder and salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl, whisk together the soy milk and vinegar; set aside for a few minutes to curdle. Add the sugar, oil and vanilla extract and other extract, if using, and beat until foamy. Add the dry ingredients in 2 increments, and beat until no large lumps remain (a few small lumps are okay). Add the chopped cookies to the batter, stirring just to combine. Spoon the batter into the liner cups, filling them three-quarters full. Bake for 18 to 20 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

While the cupcakes are cooling, make the frosting: In the bowl of a stand mixer or in a large bowl using a hand mixer, beat the shortening and margarine on medium-high speed for about 5 minutes, until well combined and fluffy. Reduce speed to low to add the sugar until incorporated, and then increase to medium-high speed to beat for about 3 minutes. Add the vanilla extract and soy milk or creamer; beat on the same speed for 5 to 7 minutes, until fluffy. Add the cookie crumbs, mixing well.

To assemble: Frost the cupcakes generously and top each cupcake with half of a sandwich cookie by inserting the cut end into the frosting. Store in a sealed container for up to 3 days.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from "Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World," by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero (Marlowe & Co., 2006).

cherry confit (to go with duck) WaPost

2007-04-13T09:28:00.001-07:00

Dried Cherry Confit

The Washington Post, March 14, 2007

Cuisine: American
Course: Condiment
Features: Fast

Summary:

There are nice and easy sauces to be made from the drippings and flavor stuck to the bottom of a skillet just used to cook duck breasts.

4 servings

Ingredients:

1 teaspoon rendered duck fat (rendered from the pan-fried duch breast preparation)
1 medium medium shallot, finely minced
8 ounces dried cherries
2 cups Marsala or Madeira wine
1/4 finely chopped thyme leaves
freshly ground black pepper
salt (optional)
lemon juice (optional)

Directions:

Heat the duck fat in a skillet over medium heat. When the duck breasts have finished cooking and have been transferred to a plate to rest, drain all but 1 teaspoon of fat in the pan and add the shallot, cook for 2 minutes over medium-low heat, stirring until translucent. Add the dried cherries and Marsala or Madeira and increase the heat to medium to bring to a low boil. Cook for about 20 minutes, or until the cherries are soft and glazed and the liquid has almost evaporated. Add the thyme, and pepper to taste. Remove from the heat; add salt to taste and a squeeze of lemon juice, if desired.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from “The Improvisational Cook,” by Sally Schneider’s Morrow 2006, $34.95)

cherry jam (david lebovitz)

2007-04-12T14:53:00.000-07:00

No-Recipe (yikes!) Cherry Jam

June 15, 2005 | Comments (15)

Stand back. This is gonna get messy.

Since it's just about the end of cherry season, you might (or might not) want to preserve some as jam.
But unlike shucking fresh peas, which recipes blissfully suggest that you do while reminiscing with old friends while sitting on vintage rocking chairs that you bought at a barn sale on your front porch watching the laundry dry in the Hamptons with iced tea and fresh-baked snickerdoodles, pitting cherries needs to be safely done in the kitchen away from anything upholstered or Armani.

So I'm going to teach you how to make something without a recipe.
Before you freak, remember that your grandmother made lots of things without recipes, before Food Network and Martha and food magazines that preach measuring everything down to the last 5/9ths of a teaspoon. Just breath. That's right, it will be okay.

No-Recipe Cherry Jam

Buy as many cherries as you feel like pitting.
Usually I have the patience for about 3 pounds, but it's up to you. Figure one pound of cherries will make one good-sized jar of jam. Plump, dark Bing cherries work really well, although Burlatts are good, and if you can find sour cherries, your jam will rock.

Wear something red. Or black. Rinse the cherries and remove the stems. Using the handy cherry pitter that I told you to buy a few weeks ago and pit the cherries. Make sure to remove all the pits since everyone is so litigious these days. Chop about ¾ of them into smaller pieces, but not too small. Leave some cherries whole so people can see later on how hard you worked pitting real cherries. If you leave too many whole ones, they'll tumble off your toast and stain your pajamas.

Cook the cherries in a large non-reactive stockpot. It should be pretty big since the juices bubble up. Add the zest and juice of one or two fresh lemons. Lemon juice adds pectin as well as acidity, and will help the jam gel later on. See how smart I am?
Who says I'd never amount to anything?

Cook the cherries, stirring once in a while with a heatproof spatula, until they're wilted and completely soft, which may take about 20 minutes, depending on how much heat you give them. Aren't they beautiful, all juicy and red?

Once they're cooked, measure out how many cherries you have (including the juice.) Use 3/4 of the amount of sugar. For example if you have 4 cups of cooked cherry matter, add 3 cups of sugar. It may seem like a lot, but that amount of sugar is necessary to keep the jam from sprouting green whiskers after a few weeks in the refrigerator.

Stir the sugar and the cherries in the pot and cook over moderate-to-high heat. The best jam is cooked quickly. While it's cooking, put a small white plate in the freezer. In spite of the fact that you may need to use the bathroom or lower the volume on Judge Judy when she screams her verdicts, remain pretty vigilant and stir the fruit often with a heatproof utensil. Wouldn't it be a shame to burn it at this point? Scrape the bottom of the pot as you stir as well.

And no matter how good they look, resist popping a warm cherry into your mouth. They are really hot, take it from me, and you will burn your mouth. Yes, take it from me. Ouch! It hurts.

Once the bubbles subside and the jam appears a bit thick and looks beginning to gel, (it will coat the spatula in a clear, thick-ish, jelly-like layer, but not too thick) turn off the heat and put a small amount of jam on the frozen plate and return to the freezer. After a few minutes, when you nudge it if it wrinkles, it's done.

If not, cook it some more, turn off the heat, and test it again. If you overcook your jam, the sugar will caramelize and it won't taste good and there's nothing you can do. Better to undercook it, test it, then cook it some more.

Are you beginning to understand why all those gourmet jams are expensive?

Once it's done and gelled, add a bit of kirsch if you have it, clear cherry eau-de-vie which will highlight the flavor. Or add a few drops of almond extract, but not too much, or it will taste like a cheap Italian cake. Ladle the warm jam into clean jars and cover. Cool at room temperature, then refrigerate.

See, you did it!

baked cherries and nectarines (david lebovitz)

2007-04-12T14:51:00.001-07:00

Nectarine and Cherry Compote
Four to Six Servings

I prefer my fruit less-sweetened, but you can add the larger amount of sugar if you like. If you don't have a vanilla bean, just add a few drops of vanilla extract.

4 nectarines
1 pound (450 g) fresh cherries, stemmed and pitted
1/2 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
4 to 6 tablespoons sugar
optional: 2 tablespoons rum or kirsch

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees (190 C).

Split the nectarines in half and pluck out the pits. Put them in a 2-quart baking dish with the cherries. Scrape the vanilla seeds into the fruit.

Mix in the sugar and rum or kirsch, if using.

Turn the nectarines so they're cut side down, arranging them in an even layer with the cherries and tuck the vanilla bean underneath.

Bake uncovered for 45 minutes to 1 hour, opening the oven door twice during baking so you can jostle the baking dish to encourage the juices to flow. The fruit is done when a sharp paring knife easily pierces the nectarines.

Remove from oven and serve warm, or at room temperature with a nice scoop of the White Chocolate and Fresh Ginger Ice Cream.

Storage: The compote can be refrigerated for up to 3 days.

(Note: Please excuse any funny phrases or incomprehensible sentances in this post. Due to the soaring and devastating heat here in Paris (see weather strip on the left), it's impossible to keep my computer on for long periods of time. To cool down, I can eat ice cream, but I don't think it's very good for my Mac.)

baked doughnuts (101 cookbooks)

2007-04-12T14:25:00.001-07:00

Baked Doughnuts

Don't over bake these, if anything, under bake them a bit - they will continue baking outside the oven for a few minutes. You want an interior that is moist and tender - not dry. Also, be sure to cut big enough holes in the center of your doughnuts - too small and they will bake entirely shut. Remember they rise, and they rise even more when they are baking. These really need to be made-to-order, but you can make and shape the dough the night before if you want to serve them for brunch. Instructions: after shaping, place doughnuts on baking sheet, cover and place in the refrigerator overnight. Pull them out an hour before baking, and let rise in a warm place before baking.

1 1/3 cups warm milk, 95 to 105 degrees (divided)
1 packet active dry yeast (2 1/4 teaspoons)
2 tablespoons butter
2/3 cup sugar
2 eggs
5 cups all-purpose flour (alternately, white whole wheat might work - haven't tried it yet)
A pinch or two of nutmeg, freshly grated
1 teaspoon fine grain sea salt

1/2 cup unsalted butter, melted
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 tablespoon cinnamon

Place 1/3 cup of the warm milk in the bowl of an electric mixer. Stir in the yeast and set aside for five minutes or so. Be sure your milk isn't too hot or it will kill the yeast. Stir the butter and sugar into the remaining cup of warm milk and add it to the yeast mixture. With a fork, stir in the eggs, flour, nutmeg, and salt - just until the flour is incorporated. With the dough hook attachment of your mixer beat the dough for a few minutes at medium speed. This is where you are going to need to make adjustments - if your dough is overly sticky, add flour a few tablespoons at a time. Too dry? Add more milk a bit at a time. You want the dough to pull away from the sides of the mixing bowl and eventually become supple and smooth. Turn it out onto a floured counter-top, knead a few times (the dough should be barely sticky), and shape into a ball.

Transfer the dough to a buttered (or oiled) bowl, cover, put in a warm place (I turn on the oven at this point and set the bowl on top), and let rise for an hour or until the dough has roughly doubled in size.

Punch down the dough and roll it out 1/2-inch thick on your floured countertop. Most people (like myself) don't have a doughnut cutter, instead I use a 2-3 inch cookie cutter to stamp out circles. Transfer the circles to a parchment-lined baking sheet and stamp out the smaller inner circles using a smaller cutter. If you cut the inner holes out any earlier, they become distorted when you attempt to move them. Cover with a clean cloth and let rise for another 45 minutes.

Bake in a 375 degree oven until the bottoms are just golden, 8 to 10 minutes - start checking around 8. While the doughnuts are baking, place the butter in a medium bowl. Place the sugar and cinnamon in a separate bowl.

Remove the doughnuts from the oven and let cool for just a minute or two. Dip each one in the melted butter and a quick toss in the sugar bowl. Eat immediately if not sooner.

Makes 1 1/2 - 2 dozen medium doughnuts.

WTSIM....#4 - Bread

2007-04-10T13:05:00.002-07:00

Bread. Bread in all it's yeasty, aroma producing, glory. That's the theme for the next round of Waiter There's Something In My...

I'm looking for Rye bread, Potato Bread, plain white rolls and simple milk loaves, ale loaves, scrumpy buns, sweet brandy buns, wheatgerm bread, soda bread and sunflower breads. Loaves studded with raisins, onions, herbs, olives or little pieces of meat. Perhaps a walnut loaf or a chestnut and hazelnut bread. Maybe some saffron breads or a lemon barley cob. Or how about a fougasse, a puff ball, a focaccia or ciabatta, a flatbread or wholemeal loaf, a pain de campagne or even a pain viennois..the choice, as they say, is yours.

Entries should be in by the end of the 25th of April. Please Link to this announcement (and the round-up, once it's up) email entries only with the subject as BREAD. (If you don't do this the likelihood is that the email will get lost) Please include your name, your blog's name, the name of the bread and a permalink to your post.

SHF #30

2007-04-10T13:05:00.001-07:00

Sugar High Friday #30 - Flower Power

Posted on April 2nd, 2007 in Sugar High Friday, Blog events by Monisha

I’m excited about hosting this month’s Sugar High Friday - a worldwide blog event created by the divine Domestic Goddess herself, this event has had some terrific themes in the past including Caramel, Coffee, Ginger and of course Dark Chocolate.

This month’s theme is inspired by the beautiful Spring weather we’ve been enjoying recently, hopefully those of us who are still struggling with winter blues can shrug off those warm scarves and get in the kitchen to participate in this month’s theme - Flower Power. This theme has little to do with psychedelic rock music and a lot more to do with using flowers or floral extracts in any shape or form in a sweet treat - go crazy with roses, lavender and saffron; make and use ethereal candied flowers and if all else fails, pipe delicate violets and daisies on your favorite cupcake. Derive inspiration from anything that is blooming and full of life this Spring, the ideas are endless, let your inner flower child loose!

Here’s what you do to participate -

Write about your SHF #30 entry on your blog by April 23rd, including a link to this post.
The deadline for submissions is April 23rd and the round-up will be posted on April 27th.
Please send me an email at mona[dot]coconutchutney[at]gmail[dot]com with the following details - Name, Blog’s Name, Permalink and Location.
Include a 100 * 100 pixel image of your entry.
Non-blogger’s please email me your recipe, name and location and I’ll be glad to include that in the final round-up.

dorie's strawberry marshmallow tart - marshmallows use rose water!!

wild mushroom pierogi (smitten kitchen)

2007-04-09T11:08:00.001-07:00

Wild Mushroom Pirogies
Gourmet, February 2001

For filling
1 cup boiling water
2/3 oz dried porcini mushrooms
1 medium onion, quartered
2 garlic cloves, crushed
6 oz cremini mushrooms, quartered
1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 tablespoon finely chopped fresh flat-leaf parsley

For onion topping
1 lb onions, chopped
1/2 stick (1/4 cup) unsalted butter

Accompaniment: sour cream

Special equipment: a 2 1/2-inch round cookie cutter

Make filling: Pour boiling water over porcini in a small bowl and soak until softened,10 to 20 minutes. Lift porcini out of water, squeezing excess liquid back into bowl, and rinse well to remove any grit. Pour soaking liquid through a paper-towel-lined sieve into a bowl and reserve.

Finely chop onion and garlic in a food processor, then add cremini and porcini and pulse until very finely chopped.

Heat butter in a skillet over moderate heat until foam subsides, then cook mushroom mixture, stirring frequently, until mushrooms are dry and 1 shade darker, about 8 minutes. Add reserved soaking liquid and simmer, stirring frequently, until mixture is thick, dry, and beginning to brown, about 15 minutes (there will be about 1 cup filling). Stir in parsley and salt and pepper to taste. Cool completely.

Roll out dough and fill pierogies: Halve dough and roll out 1 piece on a lightly floured surface into a 15-inch round, keeping remaining dough wrapped. Cut out rounds (about 24) with floured cutter. Put 1 teaspoon filling in center of each round. Working with 1 round at a time, moisten edges with water and fold in half to form a half-moon, pinching edges together to seal. Transfer pierogies as assembled to a flour-dusted kitchen towel. Repeat with remaining rounds, then make more pierogies with remaining dough and filling.

Cook onions and pierogies: Cook onions in butter in a large heavy skillet over moderately low heat, stirring frequently, until golden brown, about 30 minutes. Season with salt and pepper and keep warm.

Cook pierogies in a large pot of lightly salted boiling water until tender, 12 to 15 minutes. Transfer with a slotted spoon to skillet with onions. Toss gently to coat and serve immediately.

Epicurious’ notes:

Filling can be made 2 days ahead and chilled, covered.
Filled pierogies can be frozen 1 month. Freeze on a tray until firm, about 2 hours, then freeze in sealable plastic bags. Thaw before cooking.

Makes 6 (main course) servings.

Pierogi and Vareniki Dough

1 cup all-purpose flour plus additional for kneading and rolling
3/4 cup cake flour (not self-rising)
2 large eggs
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup water

Stir together flours in a bowl. Make a well in flour and add eggs, salt, and water, then stir together with a fork without touching flour. Continue stirring, gradually incorporating flour into well until a soft dough forms. Transfer dough to a lightly floured work surface and knead, adding only as much additional flour as needed to keep dough from sticking, until smooth and elastic, about 8 minutes. (Dough will be soft.) Cover with plastic wrap and let rest at room temperature at least 30 minutes.

Epicurious’ note: Dough may be made 2 hours ahead, wrapped well in plastic wrap and chilled. Bring to room temperature before using.

Makes enough for about 48 pierogies or 32 varenikis.

they could literally teach this in public schools and journalism classes, it is so well-written

2007-04-09T10:48:00.001-07:00

Pearls Before Breakfast
Can one of the nation's great musicians cut through the fog of a D.C. rush hour? Let's find out.

By Gene Weingarten
Washington Post Staff Writer
Sunday, April 8, 2007; W10

HE EMERGED FROM THE METRO AT THE L'ENFANT PLAZA STATION AND POSITIONED HIMSELF AGAINST A WALL BESIDE A TRASH BASKET. By most measures, he was nondescript: a youngish white man in jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt and a Washington Nationals baseball cap. From a small case, he removed a violin. Placing the open case at his feet, he shrewdly threw in a few dollars and pocket change as seed money, swiveled it to face pedestrian traffic, and began to play.

It was 7:51 a.m. on Friday, January 12, the middle of the morning rush hour. In the next 43 minutes, as the violinist performed six classical pieces, 1,097 people passed by. Almost all of them were on the way to work, which meant, for almost all of them, a government job. L'Enfant Plaza is at the nucleus of federal Washington, and these were mostly mid-level bureaucrats with those indeterminate, oddly fungible titles: policy analyst, project manager, budget officer, specialist, facilitator, consultant.

Each passerby had a quick choice to make, one familiar to commuters in any urban area where the occasional street performer is part of the cityscape: Do you stop and listen? Do you hurry past with a blend of guilt and irritation, aware of your cupidity but annoyed by the unbidden demand on your time and your wallet? Do you throw in a buck, just to be polite? Does your decision change if he's really bad? What if he's really good? Do you have time for beauty? Shouldn't you? What's the moral mathematics of the moment?

On that Friday in January, those private questions would be answered in an unusually public way. No one knew it, but the fiddler standing against a bare wall outside the Metro in an indoor arcade at the top of the escalators was one of the finest classical musicians in the world, playing some of the most elegant music ever written on one of the most valuable violins ever made. His performance was arranged by The Washington Post as an experiment in context, perception and priorities -- as well as an unblinking assessment of public taste: In a banal setting at an inconvenient time, would beauty transcend?

The musician did not play popular tunes whose familiarity alone might have drawn interest. That was not the test. These were masterpieces that have endured for centuries on their brilliance alone, soaring music befitting the grandeur of cathedrals and concert halls.

The acoustics proved surprisingly kind. Though the arcade is of utilitarian design, a buffer between the Metro escalator and the outdoors, it somehow caught the sound and bounced it back round and resonant. The violin is an instrument that is said to be much like the human voice, and in this musician's masterly hands, it sobbed and laughed and sang -- ecstatic, sorrowful, importuning, adoring, flirtatious, castigating, playful, romancing, merry, triumphal, sumptuous.

So, what do you think happened?

HANG ON, WE'LL GET YOU SOME EXPERT HELP.

Leonard Slatkin, music director of the National Symphony Orchestra, was asked the same question. What did he think would occur, hypothetically, if one of the world's great violinists had performed incognito before a traveling rush-hour audience of 1,000-odd people?

"Let's assume," Slatkin said, "that he is not recognized and just taken for granted as a street musician . . . Still, I don't think that if he's really good, he's going to go unnoticed. He'd get a larger audience in Europe . . . but, okay, out of 1,000 people, my guess is there might be 35 or 40 who will recognize the quality for what it is. Maybe 75 to 100 will stop and spend some time listening."

So, a crowd would gather?

"Oh, yes."

And how much will he make?

"About $150."

Thanks, Maestro. As it happens, this is not hypothetical. It really happened.

"How'd I do?"

We'll tell you in a minute.

"Well, who was the musician?"

Joshua Bell.

"NO!!!"

A onetime child prodigy, at 39 Joshua Bell has arrived as an internationally acclaimed virtuoso. Three days before he appeared at the Metro station, Bell had filled the house at Boston's stately Symphony Hall, where merely pretty good seats went for $100. Two weeks later, at the Music Center at Strathmore, in North Bethesda, he would play to a standing-room-only audience so respectful of his artistry that they stifled their coughs until the silence between movements. But on that Friday in January, Joshua Bell was just another mendicant, competing for the attention of busy people on their way to work.

Bell was first pitched this idea shortly before Christmas, over coffee at a sandwich shop on Capitol Hill. A New Yorker, he was in town to perform at the Library of Congress and to visit the library's vaults to examine an unusual treasure: an 18th-century violin that once belonged to the great Austrian-born virtuoso and composer Fritz Kreisler. The curators invited Bell to play it; good sound, still.

"Here's what I'm thinking," Bell confided, as he sipped his coffee. "I'm thinking that I could do a tour where I'd play Kreisler's music . . ."

He smiled.

". . . on Kreisler's violin."

It was a snazzy, sequined idea -- part inspiration and part gimmick -- and it was typical of Bell, who has unapologetically embraced showmanship even as his concert career has become more and more august. He's soloed with the finest orchestras here and abroad, but he's also appeared on "Sesame Street," done late-night talk TV and performed in feature films. That was Bell playing the soundtrack on the 1998 movie "The Red Violin." (He body-doubled, too, playing to a naked Greta Scacchi.) As composer John Corigliano accepted the Oscar for Best Original Dramatic Score, he credited Bell, who, he said, "plays like a god."

When Bell was asked if he'd be willing to don street clothes and perform at rush hour, he said:

"Uh, a stunt?"

Well, yes. A stunt. Would he think it . . . unseemly?

Bell drained his cup.

"Sounds like fun," he said.

Bell's a heartthrob. Tall and handsome, he's got a Donny Osmond-like dose of the cutes, and, onstage, cute elides into hott. When he performs, he is usually the only man under the lights who is not in white tie and tails -- he walks out to a standing O, looking like Zorro, in black pants and an untucked black dress shirt, shirttail dangling. That cute Beatles-style mop top is also a strategic asset: Because his technique is full of body -- athletic and passionate -- he's almost dancing with the instrument, and his hair flies.

He's single and straight, a fact not lost on some of his fans. In Boston, as he performed Max Bruch's dour Violin Concerto in G Minor, the very few young women in the audience nearly disappeared in the deep sea of silver heads. But seemingly every single one of them -- a distillate of the young and pretty -- coalesced at the stage door after the performance, seeking an autograph. It's like that always, with Bell.

Bell's been accepting over-the-top accolades since puberty: Interview magazine once said his playing "does nothing less than tell human beings why they bother to live." He's learned to field these things graciously, with a bashful duck of the head and a modified "pshaw."

For this incognito performance, Bell had only one condition for participating. The event had been described to him as a test of whether, in an incongruous context, ordinary people would recognize genius. His condition: "I'm not comfortable if you call this genius." "Genius" is an overused word, he said: It can be applied to some of the composers whose work he plays, but not to him. His skills are largely interpretive, he said, and to imply otherwise would be unseemly and inaccurate.

It was an interesting request, and under the circumstances, one that will be honored. The word will not again appear in this article.

It would be breaking no rules, however, to note that the term in question, particularly as applied in the field of music, refers to a congenital brilliance -- an elite, innate, preternatural ability that manifests itself early, and often in dramatic fashion.

One biographically intriguing fact about Bell is that he got his first music lessons when he was a 4-year-old in Bloomington, Ind. His parents, both psychologists, decided formal training might be a good idea after they saw that their son had strung rubber bands across his dresser drawers and was replicating classical tunes by ear, moving drawers in and out to vary the pitch.

TO GET TO THE METRO FROM HIS HOTEL, a distance of three blocks, Bell took a taxi. He's neither lame nor lazy: He did it for his violin.

Bell always performs on the same instrument, and he ruled out using another for this gig. Called the Gibson ex Huberman, it was handcrafted in 1713 by Antonio Stradivari during the Italian master's "golden period," toward the end of his career, when he had access to the finest spruce, maple and willow, and when his technique had been refined to perfection.

"Our knowledge of acoustics is still incomplete," Bell said, "but he, he just . . . knew."

Bell doesn't mention Stradivari by name. Just "he." When the violinist shows his Strad to people, he holds the instrument gingerly by its neck, resting it on a knee. "He made this to perfect thickness at all parts," Bell says, pivoting it. "If you shaved off a millimeter of wood at any point, it would totally imbalance the sound." No violins sound as wonderful as Strads from the 1710s, still.

The front of Bell's violin is in nearly perfect condition, with a deep, rich grain and luster. The back is a mess, its dark reddish finish bleeding away into a flatter, lighter shade and finally, in one section, to bare wood.

"This has never been refinished," Bell said. "That's his original varnish. People attribute aspects of the sound to the varnish. Each maker had his own secret formula." Stradivari is thought to have made his from an ingeniously balanced cocktail of honey, egg whites and gum arabic from sub-Saharan trees.

Like the instrument in "The Red Violin," this one has a past filled with mystery and malice. Twice, it was stolen from its illustrious prior owner, the Polish virtuoso Bronislaw Huberman. The first time, in 1919, it disappeared from Huberman's hotel room in Vienna but was quickly returned. The second time, nearly 20 years later, it was pinched from his dressing room in Carnegie Hall. He never got it back. It was not until 1985 that the thief -- a minor New York violinist -- made a deathbed confession to his wife, and produced the instrument.

Bell bought it a few years ago. He had to sell his own Strad and borrow much of the rest. The price tag was reported to be about $3.5 million.

All of which is a long explanation for why, in the early morning chill of a day in January, Josh Bell took a three-block cab ride to the Orange Line, and rode one stop to L'Enfant.

AS METRO STATIONS GO, L'ENFANT PLAZA IS MORE PLEBEIAN THAN MOST. Even before you arrive, it gets no respect. Metro conductors never seem to get it right: "Leh-fahn." "Layfont." "El'phant."

At the top of the escalators are a shoeshine stand and a busy kiosk that sells newspapers, lottery tickets and a wallfull of magazines with titles such as Mammazons and Girls of Barely Legal. The skin mags move, but it's that lottery ticket dispenser that stays the busiest, with customers queuing up for Daily 6 lotto and Powerball and the ultimate suckers' bait, those pamphlets that sell random number combinations purporting to be "hot." They sell briskly. There's also a quick-check machine to slide in your lotto ticket, post-drawing, to see if you've won. Beneath it is a forlorn pile of crumpled slips.

On Friday, January 12, the people waiting in the lottery line looking for a long shot would get a lucky break -- a free, close-up ticket to a concert by one of the world's most famous musicians -- but only if they were of a mind to take note.

Bell decided to begin with "Chaconne" from Johann Sebastian Bach's Partita No. 2 in D Minor. Bell calls it "not just one of the greatest pieces of music ever written, but one of the greatest achievements of any man in history. It's a spiritually powerful piece, emotionally powerful, structurally perfect. Plus, it was written for a solo violin, so I won't be cheating with some half-assed version."

Bell didn't say it, but Bach's "Chaconne" is also considered one of the most difficult violin pieces to master. Many try; few succeed. It's exhaustingly long -- 14 minutes -- and consists entirely of a single, succinct musical progression repeated in dozens of variations to create a dauntingly complex architecture of sound. Composed around 1720, on the eve of the European Enlightenment, it is said to be a celebration of the breadth of human possibility.

If Bell's encomium to "Chaconne" seems overly effusive, consider this from the 19th-century composer Johannes Brahms, in a letter to Clara Schumann: "On one stave, for a small instrument, the man writes a whole world of the deepest thoughts and most powerful feelings. If I imagined that I could have created, even conceived the piece, I am quite certain that the excess of excitement and earth-shattering experience would have driven me out of my mind."

So, that's the piece Bell started with.

He'd clearly meant it when he promised not to cheap out this performance: He played with acrobatic enthusiasm, his body leaning into the music and arching on tiptoes at the high notes. The sound was nearly symphonic, carrying to all parts of the homely arcade as the pedestrian traffic filed past.

Three minutes went by before something happened. Sixty-three people had already passed when, finally, there was a breakthrough of sorts. A middle-age man altered his gait for a split second, turning his head to notice that there seemed to be some guy playing music. Yes, the man kept walking, but it was something.

A half-minute later, Bell got his first donation. A woman threw in a buck and scooted off. It was not until six minutes into the performance that someone actually stood against a wall, and listened.

Things never got much better. In the three-quarters of an hour that Joshua Bell played, seven people stopped what they were doing to hang around and take in the performance, at least for a minute. Twenty-seven gave money, most of them on the run -- for a total of $32 and change. That leaves the 1,070 people who hurried by, oblivious, many only three feet away, few even turning to look.

No, Mr. Slatkin, there was never a crowd, not even for a second.

It was all videotaped by a hidden camera. You can play the recording once or 15 times, and it never gets any easier to watch. Try speeding it up, and it becomes one of those herky-jerky World War I-era silent newsreels. The people scurry by in comical little hops and starts, cups of coffee in their hands, cellphones at their ears, ID tags slapping at their bellies, a grim danse macabre to indifference, inertia and the dingy, gray rush of modernity.

Even at this accelerated pace, though, the fiddler's movements remain fluid and graceful; he seems so apart from his audience -- unseen, unheard, otherworldly -- that you find yourself thinking that he's not really there. A ghost.

Only then do you see it: He is the one who is real. They are the ghosts.

IF A GREAT MUSICIAN PLAYS GREAT MUSIC BUT NO ONE HEARS . . . WAS HE REALLY ANY GOOD?

It's an old epistemological debate, older, actually, than the koan about the tree in the forest. Plato weighed in on it, and philosophers for two millennia afterward: What is beauty? Is it a measurable fact (Gottfried Leibniz), or merely an opinion (David Hume), or is it a little of each, colored by the immediate state of mind of the observer (Immanuel Kant)?

We'll go with Kant, because he's obviously right, and because he brings us pretty directly to Joshua Bell, sitting there in a hotel restaurant, picking at his breakfast, wryly trying to figure out what the hell had just happened back there at the Metro.

"At the beginning," Bell says, "I was just concentrating on playing the music. I wasn't really watching what was happening around me . . ."

Playing the violin looks all-consuming, mentally and physically, but Bell says that for him the mechanics of it are partly second nature, cemented by practice and muscle memory: It's like a juggler, he says, who can keep those balls in play while interacting with a crowd. What he's mostly thinking about as he plays, Bell says, is capturing emotion as a narrative: "When you play a violin piece, you are a storyteller, and you're telling a story."

With "Chaconne," the opening is filled with a building sense of awe. That kept him busy for a while. Eventually, though, he began to steal a sidelong glance.

"It was a strange feeling, that people were actually, ah . . ."

The word doesn't come easily.

". . . ignoring me."

Bell is laughing. It's at himself.

"At a music hall, I'll get upset if someone coughs or if someone's cellphone goes off. But here, my expectations quickly diminished. I started to appreciate any acknowledgment, even a slight glance up. I was oddly grateful when someone threw in a dollar instead of change." This is from a man whose talents can command $1,000 a minute.

Before he began, Bell hadn't known what to expect. What he does know is that, for some reason, he was nervous.

"It wasn't exactly stage fright, but there were butterflies," he says. "I was stressing a little."

Bell has played, literally, before crowned heads of Europe. Why the anxiety at the Washington Metro?

"When you play for ticket-holders," Bell explains, "you are already validated. I have no sense that I need to be accepted. I'm already accepted. Here, there was this thought: What if they don't like me? What if they resent my presence . . ."

He was, in short, art without a frame. Which, it turns out, may have a lot to do with what happened -- or, more precisely, what didn't happen -- on January 12.

MARK LEITHAUSER HAS HELD IN HIS HANDS MORE GREAT WORKS OF ART THAN ANY KING OR POPE OR MEDICI EVER DID. A senior curator at the National Gallery, he oversees the framing of the paintings. Leithauser thinks he has some idea of what happened at that Metro station.

"Let's say I took one of our more abstract masterpieces, say an Ellsworth Kelly, and removed it from its frame, marched it down the 52 steps that people walk up to get to the National Gallery, past the giant columns, and brought it into a restaurant. It's a $5 million painting. And it's one of those restaurants where there are pieces of original art for sale, by some industrious kids from the Corcoran School, and I hang that Kelly on the wall with a price tag of $150. No one is going to notice it. An art curator might look up and say: 'Hey, that looks a little like an Ellsworth Kelly. Please pass the salt.'"

Leithauser's point is that we shouldn't be too ready to label the Metro passersby unsophisticated boobs. Context matters.

Kant said the same thing. He took beauty seriously: In his Critique of Aesthetic Judgment, Kant argued that one's ability to appreciate beauty is related to one's ability to make moral judgments. But there was a caveat. Paul Guyer of the University of Pennsylvania, one of America's most prominent Kantian scholars, says the 18th-century German philosopher felt that to properly appreciate beauty, the viewing conditions must be optimal.

"Optimal," Guyer said, "doesn't mean heading to work, focusing on your report to the boss, maybe your shoes don't fit right."

So, if Kant had been at the Metro watching as Joshua Bell play to a thousand unimpressed passersby?

"He would have inferred about them," Guyer said, "absolutely nothing."

And that's that.

Except it isn't. To really understand what happened, you have to rewind that video and play it back from the beginning, from the moment Bell's bow first touched the strings.

White guy, khakis, leather jacket, briefcase. Early 30s. John David Mortensen is on the final leg of his daily bus-to-Metro commute from Reston. He's heading up the escalator. It's a long ride -- 1 minute and 15 seconds if you don't walk. So, like most everyone who passes Bell this day, Mortensen gets a good earful of music before he has his first look at the musician. Like most of them, he notes that it sounds pretty good. But like very few of them, when he gets to the top, he doesn't race past as though Bell were some nuisance to be avoided. Mortensen is that first person to stop, that guy at the six-minute mark.

It's not that he has nothing else to do. He's a project manager for an international program at the Department of Energy; on this day, Mortensen has to participate in a monthly budget exercise, not the most exciting part of his job: "You review the past month's expenditures," he says, "forecast spending for the next month, if you have X dollars, where will it go, that sort of thing."

On the video, you can see Mortensen get off the escalator and look around. He locates the violinist, stops, walks away but then is drawn back. He checks the time on his cellphone -- he's three minutes early for work -- then settles against a wall to listen.

Mortensen doesn't know classical music at all; classic rock is as close as he comes. But there's something about what he's hearing that he really likes.

As it happens, he's arrived at the moment that Bell slides into the second section of "Chaconne." ("It's the point," Bell says, "where it moves from a darker, minor key into a major key. There's a religious, exalted feeling to it.") The violinist's bow begins to dance; the music becomes upbeat, playful, theatrical, big.

Mortensen doesn't know about major or minor keys: "Whatever it was," he says, "it made me feel at peace."

So, for the first time in his life, Mortensen lingers to listen to a street musician. He stays his allotted three minutes as 94 more people pass briskly by. When he leaves to help plan contingency budgets for the Department of Energy, there's another first. For the first time in his life, not quite knowing what had just happened but sensing it was special, John David Mortensen gives a street musician money.

THERE ARE SIX MOMENTS IN THE VIDEO THAT BELL FINDS PARTICULARLY PAINFUL TO RELIVE: "The awkward times," he calls them. It's what happens right after each piece ends: nothing. The music stops. The same people who hadn't noticed him playing don't notice that he has finished. No applause, no acknowledgment. So Bell just saws out a small, nervous chord -- the embarrassed musician's equivalent of, "Er, okay, moving right along . . ." -- and begins the next piece.

After "Chaconne," it is Franz Schubert's "Ave Maria," which surprised some music critics when it debuted in 1825: Schubert seldom showed religious feeling in his compositions, yet "Ave Maria" is a breathtaking work of adoration of the Virgin Mary. What was with the sudden piety? Schubert dryly answered: "I think this is due to the fact that I never forced devotion in myself and never compose hymns or prayers of that kind unless it overcomes me unawares; but then it is usually the right and true devotion." This musical prayer became among the most familiar and enduring religious pieces in history.

A couple of minutes into it, something revealing happens. A woman and her preschooler emerge from the escalator. The woman is walking briskly and, therefore, so is the child. She's got his hand.

"I had a time crunch," recalls Sheron Parker, an IT director for a federal agency. "I had an 8:30 training class, and first I had to rush Evvie off to his teacher, then rush back to work, then to the training facility in the basement."

Evvie is her son, Evan. Evan is 3.

You can see Evan clearly on the video. He's the cute black kid in the parka who keeps twisting around to look at Joshua Bell, as he is being propelled toward the door.

"There was a musician," Parker says, "and my son was intrigued. He wanted to pull over and listen, but I was rushed for time."

So Parker does what she has to do. She deftly moves her body between Evan's and Bell's, cutting off her son's line of sight. As they exit the arcade, Evan can still be seen craning to look. When Parker is told what she walked out on, she laughs.

"Evan is very smart!"

The poet Billy Collins once laughingly observed that all babies are born with a knowledge of poetry, because the lub-dub of the mother's heart is in iambic meter. Then, Collins said, life slowly starts to choke the poetry out of us. It may be true with music, too.

There was no ethnic or demographic pattern to distinguish the people who stayed to watch Bell, or the ones who gave money, from that vast majority who hurried on past, unheeding. Whites, blacks and Asians, young and old, men and women, were represented in all three groups. But the behavior of one demographic remained absolutely consistent. Every single time a child walked past, he or she tried to stop and watch. And every single time, a parent scooted the kid away.

IF THERE WAS ONE PERSON ON THAT DAY WHO WAS TOO BUSY TO PAY ATTENTION TO THE VIOLINIST, it was George Tindley. Tindley wasn't hurrying to get to work. He was at work.

The glass doors through which most people exit the L'Enfant station lead into an indoor shopping mall, from which there are exits to the street and elevators to office buildings. The first store in the mall is an Au Bon Pain, the croissant and coffee shop where Tindley, in his 40s, works in a white uniform busing the tables, restocking the salt and pepper packets, taking out the garbage. Tindley labors under the watchful eye of his bosses, and he's supposed to be hopping, and he was.

But every minute or so, as though drawn by something not entirely within his control, Tindley would walk to the very edge of the Au Bon Pain property, keeping his toes inside the line, still on the job. Then he'd lean forward, as far out into the hallway as he could, watching the fiddler on the other side of the glass doors. The foot traffic was steady, so the doors were usually open. The sound came through pretty well.

"You could tell in one second that this guy was good, that he was clearly a professional," Tindley says. He plays the guitar, loves the sound of strings, and has no respect for a certain kind of musician.

"Most people, they play music; they don't feel it," Tindley says. "Well, that man was feeling it. That man was moving. Moving into the sound."

A hundred feet away, across the arcade, was the lottery line, sometimes five or six people long. They had a much better view of Bell than Tindley did, if they had just turned around. But no one did. Not in the entire 43 minutes. They just shuffled forward toward that machine spitting out numbers. Eyes on the prize.

J.T. Tillman was in that line. A computer specialist for the Department of Housing and Urban Development, he remembers every single number he played that day -- 10 of them, $2 apiece, for a total of $20. He doesn't recall what the violinist was playing, though. He says it sounded like generic classical music, the kind the ship's band was playing in "Titanic," before the iceberg.

"I didn't think nothing of it," Tillman says, "just a guy trying to make a couple of bucks." Tillman would have given him one or two, he said, but he spent all his cash on lotto.

When he is told that he stiffed one of the best musicians in the world, he laughs.

"Is he ever going to play around here again?"

"Yeah, but you're going to have to pay a lot to hear him."

"Damn."

Tillman didn't win the lottery, either.

BELL ENDS "AVE MARIA" TO ANOTHER THUNDEROUS SILENCE, plays Manuel Ponce's sentimental "Estrellita," then a piece by Jules Massenet, and then begins a Bach gavotte, a joyful, frolicsome, lyrical dance. It's got an Old World delicacy to it; you can imagine it entertaining bewigged dancers at a Versailles ball, or -- in a lute, fiddle and fife version -- the boot-kicking peasants of a Pieter Bruegel painting.

Watching the video weeks later, Bell finds himself mystified by one thing only. He understands why he's not drawing a crowd, in the rush of a morning workday. But: "I'm surprised at the number of people who don't pay attention at all, as if I'm invisible. Because, you know what? I'm makin' a lot of noise!"

He is. You don't need to know music at all to appreciate the simple fact that there's a guy there, playing a violin that's throwing out a whole bucket of sound; at times, Bell's bowing is so intricate that you seem to be hearing two instruments playing in harmony. So those head-forward, quick-stepping passersby are a remarkable phenomenon.

Bell wonders whether their inattention may be deliberate: If you don't take visible note of the musician, you don't have to feel guilty about not forking over money; you're not complicit in a rip-off.

It may be true, but no one gave that explanation. People just said they were busy, had other things on their mind. Some who were on cellphones spoke louder as they passed Bell, to compete with that infernal racket.

And then there was Calvin Myint. Myint works for the General Services Administration. He got to the top of the escalator, turned right and headed out a door to the street. A few hours later, he had no memory that there had been a musician anywhere in sight.

"Where was he, in relation to me?"

"About four feet away."

"Oh."

There's nothing wrong with Myint's hearing. He had buds in his ear. He was listening to his iPod.

For many of us, the explosion in technology has perversely limited, not expanded, our exposure to new experiences. Increasingly, we get our news from sources that think as we already do. And with iPods, we hear what we already know; we program our own playlists.

The song that Calvin Myint was listening to was "Just Like Heaven," by the British rock band The Cure. It's a terrific song, actually. The meaning is a little opaque, and the Web is filled with earnest efforts to deconstruct it. Many are far-fetched, but some are right on point: It's about a tragic emotional disconnect. A man has found the woman of his dreams but can't express the depth of his feeling for her until she's gone. It's about failing to see the beauty of what's plainly in front of your eyes.

"YES, I SAW THE VIOLINIST," Jackie Hessian says, "but nothing about him struck me as much of anything."

You couldn't tell that by watching her. Hessian was one of those people who gave Bell a long, hard look before walking on. It turns out that she wasn't noticing the music at all.

"I really didn't hear that much," she said. "I was just trying to figure out what he was doing there, how does this work for him, can he make much money, would it be better to start with some money in the case, or for it to be empty, so people feel sorry for you? I was analyzing it financially."

What do you do, Jackie?

"I'm a lawyer in labor relations with the United States Postal Service. I just negotiated a national contract."

THE BEST SEATS IN THE HOUSE WERE UPHOLSTERED. In the balcony, more or less. On that day, for $5, you'd get a lot more than just a nice shine on your shoes.

Only one person occupied one of those seats when Bell played. Terence Holmes is a consultant for the Department of Transportation, and he liked the music just fine, but it was really about a shoeshine: "My father told me never to wear a suit with your shoes not cleaned and shined."

Holmes wears suits often, so he is up in that perch a lot, and he's got a good relationship with the shoeshine lady. Holmes is a good tipper and a good talker, which is a skill that came in handy that day. The shoeshine lady was upset about something, and the music got her more upset. She complained, Holmes said, that the music was too loud, and he tried to calm her down.

Edna Souza is from Brazil. She's been shining shoes at L'Enfant Plaza for six years, and she's had her fill of street musicians there; when they play, she can't hear her customers, and that's bad for business. So she fights.

Souza points to the dividing line between the Metro property, at the top of the escalator, and the arcade, which is under control of the management company that runs the mall. Sometimes, Souza says, a musician will stand on the Metro side, sometimes on the mall side. Either way, she's got him. On her speed dial, she has phone numbers for both the mall cops and the Metro cops. The musicians seldom last long.

What about Joshua Bell?

He was too loud, too, Souza says. Then she looks down at her rag, sniffs. She hates to say anything positive about these damned musicians, but: "He was pretty good, that guy. It was the first time I didn't call the police."

Souza was surprised to learn he was a famous musician, but not that people rushed blindly by him. That, she said, was predictable. "If something like this happened in Brazil, everyone would stand around to see. Not here."

Souza nods sourly toward a spot near the top of the escalator: "Couple of years ago, a homeless guy died right there. He just lay down there and died. The police came, an ambulance came, and no one even stopped to see or slowed down to look.

"People walk up the escalator, they look straight ahead. Mind your own business, eyes forward. Everyone is stressed. Do you know what I mean?"

What is this life if, full of care,

We have no time to stand and stare.

-- from "Leisure," by W.H. Davies

Let's say Kant is right. Let's accept that we can't look at what happened on January 12 and make any judgment whatever about people's sophistication or their ability to appreciate beauty. But what about their ability to appreciate life?

We're busy. Americans have been busy, as a people, since at least 1831, when a young French sociologist named Alexis de Tocqueville visited the States and found himself impressed, bemused and slightly dismayed at the degree to which people were driven, to the exclusion of everything else, by hard work and the accumulation of wealth.

Not much has changed. Pop in a DVD of "Koyaanisqatsi," the wordless, darkly brilliant, avant-garde 1982 film about the frenetic speed of modern life. Backed by the minimalist music of Philip Glass, director Godfrey Reggio takes film clips of Americans going about their daily business, but speeds them up until they resemble assembly-line machines, robots marching lockstep to nowhere. Now look at the video from L'Enfant Plaza, in fast-forward. The Philip Glass soundtrack fits it perfectly.

"Koyaanisqatsi" is a Hopi word. It means "life out of balance."

In his 2003 book, Timeless Beauty: In the Arts and Everyday Life, British author John Lane writes about the loss of the appreciation for beauty in the modern world. The experiment at L'Enfant Plaza may be symptomatic of that, he said -- not because people didn't have the capacity to understand beauty, but because it was irrelevant to them.

"This is about having the wrong priorities," Lane said.

If we can't take the time out of our lives to stay a moment and listen to one of the best musicians on Earth play some of the best music ever written; if the surge of modern life so overpowers us that we are deaf and blind to something like that -- then what else are we missing?

That's what the Welsh poet W.H. Davies meant in 1911 when he published those two lines that begin this section. They made him famous. The thought was simple, even primitive, but somehow no one had put it quite that way before.

Of course, Davies had an advantage -- an advantage of perception. He wasn't a tradesman or a laborer or a bureaucrat or a consultant or a policy analyst or a labor lawyer or a program manager. He was a hobo.

THE CULTURAL HERO OF THE DAY ARRIVED AT L'ENFANT PLAZA PRETTY LATE, in the unprepossessing figure of one John Picarello, a smallish man with a baldish head.

Picarello hit the top of the escalator just after Bell began his final piece, a reprise of "Chaconne." In the video, you see Picarello stop dead in his tracks, locate the source of the music, and then retreat to the other end of the arcade. He takes up a position past the shoeshine stand, across from that lottery line, and he will not budge for the next nine minutes.

Like all the passersby interviewed for this article, Picarello was stopped by a reporter after he left the building, and was asked for his phone number. Like everyone, he was told only that this was to be an article about commuting. When he was called later in the day, like everyone else, he was first asked if anything unusual had happened to him on his trip into work. Of the more than 40 people contacted, Picarello was the only one who immediately mentioned the violinist.

"There was a musician playing at the top of the escalator at L'Enfant Plaza."

Haven't you seen musicians there before?

"Not like this one."

What do you mean?

"This was a superb violinist. I've never heard anyone of that caliber. He was technically proficient, with very good phrasing. He had a good fiddle, too, with a big, lush sound. I walked a distance away, to hear him. I didn't want to be intrusive on his space."

Really?

"Really. It was that kind of experience. It was a treat, just a brilliant, incredible way to start the day."

Picarello knows classical music. He is a fan of Joshua Bell but didn't recognize him; he hadn't seen a recent photo, and besides, for most of the time Picarello was pretty far away. But he knew this was not a run-of-the-mill guy out there, performing. On the video, you can see Picarello look around him now and then, almost bewildered.

"Yeah, other people just were not getting it. It just wasn't registering. That was baffling to me."

When Picarello was growing up in New York, he studied violin seriously, intending to be a concert musician. But he gave it up at 18, when he decided he'd never be good enough to make it pay. Life does that to you sometimes. Sometimes, you have to do the prudent thing. So he went into another line of work. He's a supervisor at the U.S. Postal Service. Doesn't play the violin much, anymore.

When he left, Picarello says, "I humbly threw in $5." It was humble: You can actually see that on the video. Picarello walks up, barely looking at Bell, and tosses in the money. Then, as if embarrassed, he quickly walks away from the man he once wanted to be.

Does he have regrets about how things worked out?

The postal supervisor considers this.

"No. If you love something but choose not to do it professionally, it's not a waste. Because, you know, you still have it. You have it forever."

BELL THINKS HE DID HIS BEST WORK OF THE DAY IN THOSE FINAL FEW MINUTES, in the second "Chaconne." And that also was the first time more than one person at a time was listening. As Picarello stood in the back, Janice Olu arrived and took up a position a few feet away from Bell. Olu, a public trust officer with HUD, also played the violin as a kid. She didn't know the name of the piece she was hearing, but she knew the man playing it has a gift.

Olu was on a coffee break and stayed as long as she dared. As she turned to go, she whispered to the stranger next to her, "I really don't want to leave." The stranger standing next to her happened to be working for The Washington Post.

In preparing for this event, editors at The Post Magazine discussed how to deal with likely outcomes. The most widely held assumption was that there could well be a problem with crowd control: In a demographic as sophisticated as Washington, the thinking went, several people would surely recognize Bell. Nervous "what-if" scenarios abounded. As people gathered, what if others stopped just to see what the attraction was? Word would spread through the crowd. Cameras would flash. More people flock to the scene; rush-hour pedestrian traffic backs up; tempers flare; the National Guard is called; tear gas, rubber bullets, etc.

As it happens, exactly one person recognized Bell, and she didn't arrive until near the very end. For Stacy Furukawa, a demographer at the Commerce Department, there was no doubt. She doesn't know much about classical music, but she had been in the audience three weeks earlier, at Bell's free concert at the Library of Congress. And here he was, the international virtuoso, sawing away, begging for money. She had no idea what the heck was going on, but whatever it was, she wasn't about to miss it.

Furukawa positioned herself 10 feet away from Bell, front row, center. She had a huge grin on her face. The grin, and Furukawa, remained planted in that spot until the end.

"It was the most astonishing thing I've ever seen in Washington," Furukawa says. "Joshua Bell was standing there playing at rush hour, and people were not stopping, and not even looking, and some were flipping quarters at him! Quarters! I wouldn't do that to anybody. I was thinking, Omigosh, what kind of a city do I live in that this could happen?"

When it was over, Furukawa introduced herself to Bell, and tossed in a twenty. Not counting that -- it was tainted by recognition -- the final haul for his 43 minutes of playing was $32.17. Yes, some people gave pennies.

"Actually," Bell said with a laugh, "that's not so bad, considering. That's 40 bucks an hour. I could make an okay living doing this, and I wouldn't have to pay an agent."

These days, at L'Enfant Plaza, lotto ticket sales remain brisk. Musicians still show up from time to time, and they still tick off Edna Souza. Joshua Bell's latest album, "The Voice of the Violin," has received the usual critical acclaim. ("Delicate urgency." "Masterful intimacy." "Unfailingly exquisite." "A musical summit." ". . . will make your heart thump and weep at the same time.")

Bell headed off on a concert tour of European capitals. But he is back in the States this week. He has to be. On Tuesday, he will be accepting the Avery Fisher prize, recognizing the Flop of L'Enfant Plaza as the best classical musician in America.

Emily Shroder, Rachel Manteuffel, John W. Poole and Magazine Editor Tom Shroder contributed to this report. Gene Weingarten, a Magazine staff writer, can be reached at weingarten@washpost.com. He will be fielding questions and comments about this article Monday at 1 p.m.

browniebabe of the month - 30 april

2007-04-09T08:55:00.000-07:00

browniebabe of the month

welcome to my first food-blog event. it's "browniebabe of the month". it was just obvious that i picked this theme. i just love this little piece of cake. they are quick and easy to make but soft, sticky, fudgy and chocolatey when they come out of the oven - there is just nothing quite like a brownie. it's just the ultimate anytime treat. wheither you like to bake them with nuts, fruits, white or dark chocolate - join the event!

all you need to do is bake a fudgy, nice and delicious brownie, then post about it on your blog, including a link to this post so that people know what the event is about and where it came from. feel free to use the pic, too.

once you’ve baked and posted about it send an email with "browniebabe of the month" in the subject line to: onceuponatart AT yahoo DOT de by monday 30th of april with the following information:

• your name
• your location
• the name of your blog and its URL
• a link to your post
• a picture

i’ll put all the delicous brownies together and post a round up of all entries by friday, the 4th of may at the latest. i consider myself an ok brownie expert (i believe that a brownie a day keeps the doctor away) and will crown a winner at the end of this event, that will be awarded with a personal "browniebabe of the month" apron. depending on how browniecrazy you all are, this event will take place every month from now on.

browniebabes of this world - come and join!

cant wait! *myriam

ps: blondies count, too!

Brioche Berry Puddings (tartine gourmande)

2007-04-09T08:38:00.000-07:00

Brioche Berry Puddings

(For 4 individual puddings ; inspired but adapted from an idea by Julie Le Clerc)
You need:

4 slices of stale homemade brioche
1 cup milk
2 large eggs
1/4 cup fine sugar
4 Tbsp heavy cream
4 Tbsp melted butter
1 tsp vanilla extract
Berries

Steps:

Cut the brioches slices in long sticks and divide them between the molds lined with parchment paper (1 slice per mold, I used popover molds but you can use tall muffin molds).
Add a few berries, fresh or frozen.
Melt the butter and pour 1 Tbsp per mold.
Whip all other ingredients together in a bowl — eggs, sugar, milk, vanilla and cream — and divide between the four molds.
Let the puddings rest for 20 to 30 min.
Preheat your oven at 330 C.
Place in the oven to cook for 25 to 30 min.
Remove and serve preferably lukewarm (but cooled is also good) .

Citrus Scented Almond Cupcakes with Blood Orange Icing (peabody)

2007-04-04T07:31:00.001-07:00

Citrus Scented Almond Cupcakes with Blood Orange Icing

1 cup all-purpose flour
½ cup plus 2 TBSP almond meal
1 ¼ tsp baking powder
pinch of salt
1/3 cup plus 1 TBSP unsalted butter
½ cup superfine sugar
1 egg
zest of one blood orange
1/3 cup water

Preheat oven to 350F.
Sift together the flour, almond meal, baking powder and salt. Set aside.
In an electric mixer with paddle attachment cream together the butter and sugar, about 2 minutes. Scrape down the sides. Add the egg and mix for one minute. Add the zest and mix until incorporated. Add half of the flour mixture. Add the water. Add the remaining flour mixture. Mix until all is incorporated.
Grease a muffin tin, I used a standard one. Scoop batter into muffin tin(I used a ice cream scoop). I only got 6 cupcakes…which is just perfect for our 2 person family.
Bake for 20 minutes. Allow to cool before glazing.

Blood Orange Icing

This is not exact and will depend on your own personal taste.

3 TBSP unsalted butter, at room temperature
1 ½ cups powdered sugar
zest of one blood orange
1/3 cup blood orange(or any orange family member)

Beat together in an electric mixer with paddle attachment the butter, sugar, and zest. Add juice and mix. This is when I got bad and just kept adding orange juice until it was at the consistency I wanted. You want it to be a glaze more than a frosting.
Once the cupcakes are cool. Dip the top part of the cupcake into the glaze and set aside. Let the icing set up for about 5 minutes and dip them all again for a second coat.

small batch profiteroles!! (humble pie)

2007-04-03T11:39:00.001-07:00

Pâte à Choux
(adapted from The Secrets of Baking by Sherry Yard)
Yield: ~10 medium choux

½ cup all purpose flour
½ tsp sugar
Pinch of salt
¼ cup water
¼ cup whole milk (4%)
3 tbsp unsalted butter
2 large eggs

In a large bowl, sift flour sugar and salt.

In a medium saucepan, bring water, milk and butter to a boil. Remove from heat and add the flour mixture – stir vigorously to incorporate.

Return mixture to medium heat, and keep stirring for approx 4 minutes, or until the dough has a very smooth consistency – similar to smooth mashed potatoes. Remove from heat.

Turn dough into the bowl of an electric mixer. Mix on low speed for a couple minutes. Add the eggs, one at a time, making sure that each one is fully mixed in. Continue to mix for an additional 2-3 minutes until the dough is very smooth and shiny.

Using a piping bag and tip, pipe choux into mounds ~1.5 inches across and 1.5 inches high on a baking sheet fitted with a silipat or parchment paper.

Preheat oven to 425F. Place the choux into oven, on the center rack, and bake for ~10 minutes, or until puffs begin to rise. Turn oven down to 350F, and with the oven door propped open, cook for another 15-20 minutes – or until the choux have nicely browned.

Remove from oven. Transfer onto cooling racks and allow to cool prior to use. Extras may be frozen.

Chocolate Sauce
(adapted from The Secrets of Baking by Sherry Yard)
Yield: ~1 cup

2 tbsp white sugar
2 tbsp water
1 oz unsweetened chocolate, chopped
3 oz bittersweet chocolate, chopped
1/4 cup heavy cream
1 tbsp unsalted butter
1 tbsp Bailey’s Irish Cream

Combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan. Slowly bring to a boil, stirring constantly. Keep boiling for a minute or two, until the mixture begins to thicken slightly. Remove from heat.

Combine the cream and butter in another small saucepan, and bring to a boil. Place chopped chocolate into a bowl, and pour the cream/butter mixture over top. Stir to melt chocolate.

Add the sugar/water mixture, along with the Irish Cream. Combine thoroughly, and keep in a warm place until use.

To assemble profiteroles:
Cut a choux in half. Scoop out a small helping of ice-cream (homemade is best!) and place into the center of the bottom of the choux. Place the top on, and garnish with the Chocolate Sauce, and some freshly whipped cream. Enjoy!

strawberry-almond "kisses" (what's for lunch honey)

2007-04-03T06:43:00.000-07:00

Starwberry Kisses - Strawberry Almond Muffins

Strawberries are in season .... yoohoo! We have fresh strawberries growing in various fields around here and on the weekend we went and picked about 3 1/2 kilos. Besides eating them straight off the field (these are not sprayed with any pesticide or treated with anything else then water, sunshine and all mother nature has to offer) it was a great way to spend part of the afternoon. I'll post a write up and a few pictures sometime later.

So what do you do with so many strawberries? Well you have strawberries with your cornflakes, with cream, with egg liqueur (that is a delish little secret for an after dinner treat), with ice cream and of course just plain. Because that is how they really taste best.

I did decide to make a little treat with a few of them. Basically I was dying to try out my silicon mini muffin tray. It has been lying in the cupboard and has only been used once, when I made those Raspberry Kisses.

Today, I am sending you some perfect looking and awesome tasting Strawberry Kisses!

Ingredients:

100g soft butter
75g sugar
pinch of salt
3 drops bitter almond aroma
2 eggs
150g flour
3 tablespoons ground almonds
1 teaspoon baking powder
250 g Mascarpone cheese
2 tablespoons coconut flakes
1 tablespoon vanilla sugar
250 g strawberries - cut in halves
2 tablespoons lemon juice

Method:

Pre-heat oven at 175° C.

Beat the butter, sugar, salt and almond aroma with an electric mixer until it is smooth and creamy. Whisk in the eggs one at a time. Mix the flour, ground almonds and baking powder in a separate bowl. Add this in 2-3 portions to the egg/sugar batter.

Fill in your mini muffin forms with the batter. Bake for 20 minutes. Take out and allow to cool.

In the meantime mix the mascarpone cheese with the vanilla sugar, coconut flakes and lemon juice until creamy. Using a piping bag or just a teaspoon place a dollop of topping on each muffin.

Place the strawberries on top of the topping.

This makes approx. 15 mini muffins.

Verdict:
A great combination of ingredients.

Soeren could not believe his eyes when he came back from KIGA. They were on a field trip today and I had baked these for him to take one or two as special treats. He ate one straight away and wanted one for dessert after dinner to.
Tom too was impressed by the way they looked and as he took a bite I actually saw his eyes closing and he savored each moment and bite.

This is such a summery type of muffin for any type of party or summer time picnic. I am sure everyone will be over the sunny skies when you share these kisses!

Posted by Meeta at 18:10

sweet potato "risotto"

2007-03-30T12:04:00.000-07:00

1 tablespoon butter
4 large sweet potatoes, brunoise (needs to be the size of risotto)
3 to 4 cups hot chicken broth
2 pounds large scallops, U-10's or bigger (10 scallops/pound)
1 tablespoon minced garlic
1/2 tablespoon minced ginger
1 pound chanterelles, cleaned
Salt and black pepper to taste
Canola oil to cookIt is important that the sweet potato 'risotto' dice are all the same size. Traditional risotto cooking technique is used. In a 2 quart casserole, first saute the shallots in butter and season. Add the sweet potato and saute. Slowly add the hot chicken stock, one ladle at a time. Only add more stock after the previous ladle is fully absorbed. Continue adding stock until the 'risotto' gets creamy, but not mushy. The individual grains of 'risotto' should remain distinct.
Season the scallops with salt and pepper. In very hot saute pan, coat with oil and sear the scallops until brown. Flip scallops and brown other side. Total cooking time should be about 8 minutes. Wipe pan out, return to high heat, coat with canola oil, add garlic and ginger and saute until soft. Add chanterelles and season. Cook for about 6 to 8 minutes.

lemon sponge cake

2007-03-30T12:02:00.001-07:00

i'm thinking a passover cupcake?

Lemon Sponge Cake with Glazed Strawberries

Recipe courtesy

For the cake:
1/4 cup sifted matzo cake meal, plus extra, for flouring the pan
9 eggs, separated, whites at room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
1 cup ground almonds
1/2 cup chopped almonds
1 1/2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 lemon, zested
For the glaze:
3/4 cup confectioners' sugar
1 to 2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1/4 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated lemon zest
To finish:
1 cup apricot jam
1 1/2 tablespoons water
3 cups strawberries, green parts trimmed off, halvedPreheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9 or 10-inch springform pan and line the bottom with parchment paper. Flour the sides of the pan with sifted matzo cake meal.
In a mixer fitted with a whisk attachment (or using a hand mixer), whip the egg whites until soft peaks form. Add 1/2 cup of the sugar and continue whipping just until stiff and glossy, about 30 seconds more.
In another bowl, whip the egg yolks with the remaining 1/4 cup sugar until light and fluffy. Fold in the egg whites. Gently fold in the ground almonds, chopped almonds, matzo meal, lemon juice, and lemon zest.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake until dry and spongy in the center, about 35 to 40 minutes. Let cool for 15 minutes in the pan, then remove the sides of the pan and let cool completely on a wire rack. The cake will fall somewhat.
Make the glaze: In a small bowl, stir the ingredients together until smooth, adding lemon juice as needed until the glaze is pour-able. Set the wire rack holding the cake on a sheet pan. Drizzle the glaze generously over the top of the cake, letting it trickle down the sides. Using a flexible spatula or pastry brush, gently spread the glaze over the sides of the cake, reusing any glaze that drips onto the baking sheet. Let set for at least 30 minutes before serving, or until the glaze is hardened. Transfer the cake to a serving platter, removing the pan bottom and parchment paper if desired.
In a medium saucepan, bring the jam and water to a boil, stirring to break up any lumps. Working quickly, add the strawberries all at once and fold together with a spatula until evenly coated. Pour into the sunken center of the cake and gently spread into a circle on the surface, leaving a 1 1/2-inch border all around. Let cool until set, about 30 minutes. Use a very sharp knife for slicing the cake.

ricotta mascarpone cheesecake at last!!!

2007-03-30T09:35:00.001-07:00

RICOTTA, MASCARPONE, CHOCOLATE, ORANGE TART

I made this easy tart for the Bornschlegel xmas festivities. We kept wanting to call it a cheesecake, for obvious reasons (like the length of the above title), but it's quite a bit lighter than a typical cheesecake because of the egg whites.

The recipe is from a Jamie Oliver cookbook, transcribed while in the Amsterdam airport bookstore on a 5-hour layover, so the wording is mine, not his.

Ricotta/Mascarpone/Chocolate/Orange Tart

Prepare and bake a tart shell. I didn't copy JO's recipe since I used meriko's pate sucree recipe (pastry scares me but I've successfully used that one before). I think a graham cracker-type crust would also be good. Underbake it a wee bit since it will get baked again.

Preheat oven to 325.

Filling:
9 oz. ricotta cheese
9 oz. mascarpone cheese
4.5 oz. confectioner's (powdered) sugar
grated zest of 3 oranges
seeds from 2 vanilla pods
2 eggs, separated

Topping
3.5 oz. bittersweet chocolate, roughly chopped

Combine everything except the egg whites and chocolate in a mixing bowl, whip until smooth and shiny. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff. Fold the egg whites into the filling. Pour the filling into the tart shell, then sprinkle the chocolate on top.

[The recipe called for making an extra crust to lattice on top, but that sounded like too much work for my taste, and overkill besides. If you like the idea of overkill, brush the lattice top with beaten egg and dust with powdered suger.]

Bake 40-45 minutes (light to medium brown...I believe it also looked fairly well set but don't quite remember, sorry).

notes:
The odd amounts are because Oliver's a Brit and when listed in grams they were nice neat measurements.

I used 8 oz. of each cheese since the mascarpone came in that size tub.

I used one real vanilla pod plus some vanilla extract since I'm a cheapskate.

Posted by andrea on January 01, 2003 | TrackBack

strawberry white chocolate mousse

2007-03-29T12:24:00.001-07:00

Strawberry White Chocolate Mousse Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Dessert, Wheat-free

We recently came across an intriguing recipe for strawberry mousse cake in Martha Stewart Living and decided to skip the cake part and just make the strawberry white chocolate mousse. It was fabulously cool and rich, just the dessert for a warm spring evening. The following recipe is modified slightly. I found we didn't need as many strawberries as the magazine's recipe suggested. Also, we served the mousse with some remaining strawberry purée on top. The purée is not sweetened and adds a lovely mildly tart balance to the rich mousse.

Ingredients:
1 ½ pounds of strawberries
2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice, divided
8 ounces white chocolate, finely chopped
1 ¼ teaspoon unflavored gelatin (about half a small envelope)
2 cups heavy cream
2 Tbsp powdered (confectioner's) sugar

1 Clean and hull the strawberries. Starting with about half of the strawberries (3/4 pound), quarter them and purée them in either a blender or food processor. Then press the purée mixture through a fine sieve into a bowl. You want to end up with 1 cup of purée. Stir in 1 Tbsp of the lemon juice and set aside. With the remaining 3/4 pound or so of berries, slice as many as to fill up 2 cups, and set aside.

2 Melt white chocolate in a double boiler, or a stainless steel bowl set over simmering water (make sure the simmering water doesn't actually touch the bottom of the bowl.) Stir until smooth, set aside.

3 Put ¼ cup of cool water into a small bowl. Sprinkle the gelatin powder over the water and let sit for 5 minutes.

4 Stir ¼ cup of the cream and the 2 Tbsp of powdered sugar in a small saucepan, bring to a simmer over medium heat. Add the gelatin mixture and stir until the gelatin has dissolved. Pour into the bowl of melted chocolate, and stir until smooth. Whisk in 3/4 cup of the strawberry purée. Reserve the remaining ¼ cup of purée.

5 Using an electric mixer, whip the remaining 1 3/4 cup of cream. (Note I usually use a blender to whip cream, but in this case an electric mixer or hand beater is preferred, you have better control over the amount of whipping.) Beat on medium-high speed until medium peaks form. Whisk one third of the whipped cream into the chocolate mixture. Using a large rubber spatula, gently fold the remaining whipped cream into the mixture. Refrigerate for 1 hour.

6 Stir the remaining 1 Tbsp of lemon juice into the reserved sliced berries. Fold the sliced berries into the mousse. Spoon mousse into serving cups and refrigerate for at least another hour, preferably several hours, or even over night (cover with plastic wrap).

7 When you are read to serve the mousse, pour a dollop of the reserved strawberry purée onto each serving. Add a few slices of strawberries as garnish.

Serves 6-8 depending on serving size.

rice pasta macaroni and cheese

2007-03-29T12:23:00.002-07:00

Quick Macaroni and Cheese Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Cheese, Comfort Food, Pasta, Quick, Wheat-free

Wheat-free version shown, using rice pasta.

A few months ago I prepared macaroni and cheese this way for my fairy godchildren in a sly attempt to broaden their Mac-Cheese horizons away from Kraft. At first the girls were tentative, but as there was no other lunch apparently forthcoming, they each tried a nibble on one piece of cheese-covered elbow macaroni. Aldie, who can take 30 minutes to eat a slice of apple, wolfed hers down in 2 minutes flat and asked for seconds. The other girls devoured theirs as well.

2 quarts water
1 teaspoon salt
2 cups uncooked elbow macaroni (can use regular or rice pasta)
2 Tbsp unsalted butter
1/2 lb cheddar cheese, grated (about 2 cups, packed)
1/4 cup milk
1/4 cup ham, chopped into 1/4 inch cubes
Freshly grated black pepper

1 Bring 2 quarts of water with the teaspoon of salt to a boil in thick-bottomed saucepan. Add the elbow macaroni and follow the cooking time instructions on the package, minus about 2 minutes. (If your macaroni doesn't come with instructions, start checking at 7 minutes). Cook until al dente - cooked through, but still slightly firm. Drain the water from the cooking pan (if you use a colander, return the macaroni to the pan). Lower the heat to low/warm.

2 Add the butter. Stir in to coat the macaroni. When the butter is about half melted, you can stir in the cheese. Add the milk. Stir in until all the butter and cheese is melted and blended well with the milk. Add the chopped ham and a few twists of freshly grated black pepper.

Serve immediately. Serves 3-4 adults or 4-6 kids.

Links:

chorizo and eggs

2007-03-29T12:23:00.001-07:00

Chorizo and Eggs Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Breakfast and Brunch, Egg, Low Carb, Quick, Wheat-free

Growing up, we had some of the standard American foods for breakfast - cream o' wheat, oatmeal, waffles, fried eggs, pancakes (no sugar coated cereals in this household!) - and a couple things I never saw in any of my friends' homes - huevos, and my favorite chorizo with eggs. My mother is hispanic by ancestry and looks, and even though she doesn't speak a drop of Spanish she still cooks what she was taught by her mother, grandmother and relatives, growing up in Tucson, Arizona. Thus we alone on our block had chorizo, or Mexican sausage scrambled up with eggs. I didn't even know that chorizo was the name of the sausage and not the dish until I was in my twenties. What is chorizo? A spicy pork sausage. The Spanish version comes in many varieties (see A Guide to Chorizo and Spanish Sausages). Mexican chorizo is spiced with chile peppers, while the Spanish type is spiced with paprika and garlic. I've seen chorizo served in Mexican restaurants most often as a side sausage, like bacon. We cook ours up with the eggs and add some raisins as well, the sweetness of which provides some balance to the spicy chile in the chorizo.

1/4 lb of Mexican chorizo sausage, removed from sausage casing
Olive oil
5 to 6 eggs
3 Tbsp raisins - soaked in water for 15 minutes and drained
Salt
Tortillas - optional
Cilantro - optional

Chorizo sausage from Whole Foods. Whole Foods has a standard recipe and spices for making chorizo sausage and may make some up for you upon request if you don't see it displayed.

1 Heat a large skillet on medium high heat. Depending on the chorizo you are using, you may want to add a tablespoon of olive oil to the skillet. Whole Foods' chorizo is quite lean and needs the additional fat from the oil. Traditional Mexican chorizo from a regular butcher has much more fat and does not need additional oil. Break up bits of chorizo into the pan. Use a wooden spatula to break up the pieces of sausage. Add the raisins. Stir until the sausage is cooked through, though not necessarily browned. If you are using regular chorizo, and not lean chorizo, drain the excess fat from the pan before proceeding.

2 Crack the eggs one at a time, into the pan. Break the yolks and stir the eggs into the sausage. Add a light sprinkling of salt. Stir constantly until the eggs begin to set, but are still moist. Remove from heat.

Serve immediately with a side of warmed corn tortillas and cilantro as a garnish.

Serves 2-3.

cardamom honey chicken

2007-03-29T12:21:00.001-07:00

Cardamom Honey Chicken Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Chicken, Low Carb, Main Course, Wheat-free

On my recent trip to New Zealand, my hosts sent me home with a wonderful cookbook from BeesOnline, a local café and honey factory right outside Auckland. The Cardamom and Honey-Glazed Chicken recipe caught our eye and we made it a few days ago. I've never thought to use cardamom as a spice for chicken before; the result was quite fragrant and delicious. The leftovers made for a flavorful chicken salad the next day.

Marinade
4 Tbsp honey
2 Tbsp sherry
1 teaspoon cardamom seeds, ground
1 teaspoon peppercorns, ground

Chicken
6 chicken breasts, or one whole chicken, cut into parts
2 Tbsp Olive oil
1 lemon, thinly sliced
Salt and pepper

If a recipe calls for ground cardamom, it is best to start with whole pods. Break open the pods to release the tiny brown and black cardamom seeds. Use a spice grinder or mortar and pestle to grind the seeds.

1 Preheat oven to 390°F. Warm the honey, stir in the sherry, cardamom and peppercorns. Place marinade and chicken in a large bowl, coat chicken with marinade. Cover with plastic wrap and let sit at room temperature for 30 minutes.

2 Heat olive oil in a large frying pan at medium high heat. Sear the chicken, skin side down, until golden.

3 Place lemon slices in a roasting pan. Lay the chicken pieces on top. Brush with the marinade. Season generously with salt and pepper. Place in the oven and bake until done, approximately 15 minutes for breasts, 20 minutes for thighs, wings, and drumsticks. Remove from oven and let rest for 10 minutes before serving. Pour out drippings from the pan into a gravy boat for gravy.

Serve with rice, mashed potatoes, or couscous.

Adapted from a recipe in the BeesOnline Cookbook.

potato gnocchi

2007-03-29T12:19:00.001-07:00

Potato Gnocchi Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Pasta, Vegetarian

Updated

My parents took their first trip to Europe a couple years ago, spending a week in the Tuscany region of Italy. They both came back inspired by the Italian food they enjoyed and, as a result started to make many of the Italian dishes they had while in Italy. This is one of the dishes we started making as a result of their trip, and we've experimented with various ratios of potato to flour. What you want is a minimal amount of flour, too much and the gnocchi will be too dense. The trick, we've learned, is to use older potatoes, and to bake them, not boil or steam them, so that they get pretty dried out. Also it helps to put them through a potato ricer for a smoother consistency. Gnocchi goes well with practically any good pasta sauce. The one included in this recipe is a light and easy tomato sauce.

Sauce Ingredients:

3 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 small yellow onion, chopped
1 carrot, peeled and chopped
1 celery stalk, chopped
2 lbs plum tomatoes, peeled and chopped
1/2 cup dry red wine
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
1 Tbsp chopped fresh flat-leaf Italian parsley

Gnocchi Ingredients:

2 lbs whole baking potatoes
2 beaten egg yolks
1 1/2 cups flour
pinch of salt

To prepare the sauce:

This sauce requires the freshest of ingredients, in season, to really be its best. If you are working with canned tomatoes, I suggest using this basic tomato sauce recipe instead. ~Elise
1 In a saucepan over medium heat, warm the olive oil. Add the onion, carrot and celery and cook gently for 10 minutes until the vegetables are softened and cooked through.

2 Add the tomatoes and the wine. Stir and season to taste with salt and pepper. Bring to a low simmer. Cook uncovered until the sauce is thick and the liquid evaporates, about 50 minutes.

To prepare the gnocchi:

1 Preheat oven to 350°F. Spear the potatoes with fork tines in several places around each potato to vent moisture as the potatoes cook. Bake the potatoes in their skins until tender, about an hour. Let cool on a rack, cutting them open to help cool and let more moisture escape.

2 Scoop out the potatos from their skins. Pass the potatoes through a potato ricer and into a large bowl. (If you don't have a potato rice you can mash the potatoes by hand and fluff them up a bit with a fork.) It is best to work with the potatoes when they are still warm.

3 Add the flour, egg and a pinch of salt. Mix by hand until you have a nice pliable ball of dough.

4 Prepare a work area and dust it with flour. Take the dough, a piece at a time, and roll it out with your hands until you have rolls about 3/4 inch in diameter.

5 Cut the tubes of dough into pieces about one inch long. Using either the tines of a fork or your fingertip, press against a piece of the dough and roll it slightly to form an indentation (good for catching the sauce). As the gnocchi are made, place them on flat baking pan, lightly dusted with flour or lined with wax paper. At this point you can freeze the gnocchi ahead of time. Freeze them first on a floured or lined tray, then once frozen you can put them into a freezer bag for more easy storage. To cook, just put the frozen gnocchi into the simmering water for the next step.

6 Bring at least 6 quarts of salted water to a boil in a shallow saucepan. Gently drop the gnocchi, a few at a time, into the water. As soon as they rise to the surface, remove them with a slotted spoon, draining well. Arrange on a warm serving dish. Continue cooking the gnocchi in the same manner.

7 As soon as all the gnocchi are ready, pour the hot sauce over them and sprinkle with the parsley. Serve immediately.

Serves 6.

Recipe adapted from Tuscany The Beautiful Cookbook

roast chicken with smoked paprika

2007-03-29T12:17:00.001-07:00

Smoked Paprika Roasted Chicken Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Chicken, Low Carb, Main Course, Wheat-free

I first experienced smoked paprika on a trip to New Zealand last year in a sweet potato soup. My host laughed as my eyes lit up with "Wow, what's in this?!" Ever since then I've been keeping my eyes out for smoked paprika in the spice section of the local grocery stores. If you've never used it, smoked paprika is to regular paprika what chipotle powder is to red chile powder. Good news for us, McCormick is now selling it, so it may start showing up more and more in stores. Williams Sonoma also carries smoked paprika. The following recipe is adapted from one in a free magazine by our local grocery store Raley's, which is promoting the spice (although every Raley's we checked didn't have it in stock). The flavor of this chicken is terrific, well worth seeking out this spice if you don't already have some. Do you use smoked paprika in your cooking? If so, please let us know your favorite uses for it in the comments.

2 Tbsp smoked paprika
2 Tbsp honey
1 Tbsp lemon juice
1 Tbsp softened butter
2 teaspoons garlic salt (or 1 teaspoon salt plus 1 teaspoon garlic powder)
1/2 teaspoon pepper

1 whole 4-5 pound roasting chicken

1 Preheat oven to 325°F. Rinse the chicken off with cold water. Pat dry thoroughly with paper towels (otherwise the paste won't stick).

2 Mix together the paprika, honey, lemon juice, butter, garlic salt, and pepper. Spread over the entire surface of the chicken and place on a shallow baking pan.

3 Bake at 325°F for approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes. You may need to adjust the time depending on how big your chicken is. The chicken is done when the juices run clear (not pink) when a knife tip is inserted into both the chicken breast and thigh, about 165-170°F for the breast and 180-185°F for the thigh.

ham and potato hash (simply recipes)

2007-03-29T12:09:00.001-07:00

Ham and Potato Hash Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Breakfast and Brunch, Quick, Wheat-free

Sunday breakfasts are a favorite activity around here. More like a brunch, they are usually somewhat more elaborate and filling that what we eat for breakfast during the week. Ham and potato hash is a perfect side dish for fried eggs; easy to cook, and a great way to use up leftover ham.

3 tablespoons butter
1 small onion, finely chopped
1/2 green bell pepper, finely chopped
2 medium potatoes, peeled
1 cup finely diced cooked ham
1/4 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1/8 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon dried crumbled thyme

1 Cut the potatoes in half, cook in a saucepan of simmering water until not quite done and still firm, about 10 minutes. Rinse in cold water to stop cooking. Drain. Dice to 1/2-inch thick pieces. Set aside.

2 Melt butter in a large cast-iron* skillet over medium low to medium heat. Add onion, cook until softened, about 4 minutes. Add the chopped bell pepper, cook another 2 minutes.

3 Add remaining ingredients; mix well. Cook hash until well browned, about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Serves 6.

tarragon chicken salad

2007-03-29T12:07:00.001-07:00

Chicken Salad with Tarragon Recipe

Print Options

Filed under Chicken, Low Carb, Salad, Sandwich, Wheat-free

Inspiration for good food can be found anywhere, even Starbucks. I had a delicious chicken salad sandwich there last week. The key ingredients other than chicken? Cranberries and tarragon. French tarragon is a distinctive herb, with a slight anise or licorice aroma. We don't use it that often; I grew some last year and don't think we used it more than once or twice the whole season. But it does pair well with chicken. The dried cranberries add some sweetness to the chicken salad, and the lemon juice just enough acidity to brighten all the flavors.

2 cups chopped, cooked chicken meat*
1/4 cup dried cranberries, finely chopped
1 stalk celery, finely chopped
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/4 cup mayonnaise
1-2 teaspoons dried tarragon (or 1-2 Tbsp fresh chopped tarragon)
Salt and pepper to taste

* Poach about 1 1/2 lbs of skinless chicken breasts and thighs, preferably bone-in (for flavor), in a quart of salted (1 teaspoon) water, for about 20 minutes, or until the chicken is cooked through. Remove from water, let cool, remove bones, chop the meat into 1/2-inch to 3/4-inch cubes.

Mix all of the ingredients together. Adjust seasoning. Serve with lettuce for a simple salad, in a tomato that has been cut open for a stuffed tomato, or with slices of bread for a chicken salad sandwich.

more passover

2007-03-28T14:08:00.001-07:00

ROASTED POUSSINS WITH POMEGRANATE SAUCE AND POTATO ROSTI

Editor's note: This recipe was created by chef Einat Admony for an Israeli Passover menu. For the complete story, click here.

These fragrant birds, glazed with a Persian-inspired sauce, are delicious paired with the Swiss potato pancakes called rösti. However, if you're not making them for Passover (or if you're Sephardic and don't avoid rice on this holiday), you could go a more traditional route and serve them over basmati rice flavored with nuts and dried fruit.

For sauce
1 cup bottled pomegranate juice
1 cup sugar

For poussins
8 (1-pound) poussins (small chickens) or 8 (1 1/4-pound) Cornish hens
2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon crumbled saffron threads
3/4 cup roasted walnuts
2 tablespoons or more vegetable oil, for frying

For rösti:
4 russet (baking) potatoes, peeled and coarsely grated
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, chopped
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
6 tablespoons olive oil

Make sauce
In small saucepan over moderately high heat, whisk together 1 cup water, pomegranate juice, and sugar. Bring to boil and cook, uncovered, until thick and syrupy, about 15 to 20 minutes.

Make poussins
Preheat oven to 375°F.

Rinse poussins inside and out and pat dry. Cut out necks if attached and discard. In small bowl, whisk together salt, cumin, turmeric, pepper, and saffron. Sprinkle poussins with spice mixture; press to adhere.

Set large roasting pan on stove top, straddling two burners. Add 2 tablespoons vegetable oil and heat over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking. Working in 2 batches, sear poussins until well browned, about 5 minutes per side, transferring as done to large platter and adding more oil as needed. Return poussins to pan and pour pomegranate syrup over.

Roast 15 minutes. Baste poussins with pan juices and scatter walnuts around. Roast, basting occasionally, until instant-read thermometer inserted into 1 thigh (avoiding bone) registers 170°F, about 15 minutes more.

While poussins are roasting, make rösti
In large bowl, stir together grated potato, rosemary, salt, and pepper. In heavy 10-inch nonstick skillet over moderate heat, heat 2 tablespoons oil until hot but not smoking. Pour in 1/2 potato batter and lightly press to form even layer that completely fills pan. Cook, without moving, until underside is browned, about 12 minutes. Invert large plate over skillet and flip pancake onto plate. Add 1 tablespoon oil to skillet, then slide pancake back, uncooked side down, into skillet. Cook until underside is golden brown, about 5 minutes. Remove from heat and keep warm, then repeat process with remaining oil and potato batter to make second pancake.

Cut into wedges and serve with poussin.

Makes 8 to 10 servings.

turkey chili improv from kim o'donnell

2007-03-27T10:45:00.001-07:00

Improvising chili

Turkey chili

BY KIM O'DONNEL

Published 01.10.07

print email mail us

del.icio.us digg newsvine reddit

There's a line from a John Lennon song that sums up a recent attempt to fix dinner: "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."

The plan: turkey chili. I had envisioned a low-maintenance evening spending about an hour with some canned white beans and seasoned ground turkey. Inspired by an online recipe that called for a helping of pearl barley, I printed out my marching orders and headed for the store.

And then life happened, right in the supermarket aisles, where conditions for making turkey chili were less than ideal. Ingredients were missing, time was short and the world seemed to be conspiring against me. I allowed a moment for exasperated cursing, and then I took a deep inhale. If I could ride a bike with no hands or stand in mountain pose with my eyes closed and still connect to the earth beneath me, I could certainly improvise turkey chili.

And so this kitchen witch flew home on her broom and set her chili poetry into motion. Rules got broken, spices and aromatics were added, and the original recipe was rewritten.

In this frenzied world of techno wizardry and Blackberry living, it's easy to forget that the recipe often is right where it should be -- within ourselves -- revealing itself when we're busy making other plans.

Improv Turkey Chili

3 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 medium onion, finely chopped

3 cloves garlic, finely chopped

1 fresh chili of choice, seeded, deveined and diced

1 tablespoon cocoa powder

1 teaspoon cinnamon

4 teaspoons cumin

1/2 teaspoon chili powder

1 pound ground turkey (shredded turkey or chicken would work here, too)

1/2 teaspoon salt, to taste

6-8 ounces pearl barley

Chicken stock or water, at least 3 cups

Tomato puree, up to 15 ounces (KOD note: I used nearly one box of Pomi brand strained tomatoes)

1 chipotle chili in adobo sauce, finely chopped (optional)

1 sprig fresh rosemary, needles removed from branch and finely chopped

1 15-16 ounce can of garbanzo beans, drained

1 15-16 ounce can pinto beans or cannellini or northern beans, drained

Salt to taste

Shredded sharp cheddar or Monterey Jack

Chopped scallions

Chopped cilantro, parsley

Heat oil in a heavy-bottomed pot and add onion, garlic and chili. Cook over low-medium heat and occasionally stir, cooking until soft. Add cocoa powder, cinnamon, cumin and chili powder and stir as a paste forms. Add ground turkey and cook at least five minutes, until turkey is no longer pink. Add salt to season meat.

Add enough barley and then liquid to just cover everything. Bring up to a boil, then partially cover pot and allow to simmer, until barley is tender, about 40 minutes. Add tomato puree as needed, for liquid and extra depth of flavor.

Add chipotle chili and rosemary, then beans and allow to heat at least 15 minutes until warmed through. Season with salt to taste. Serve in bowls, with shredded cheese or other garnish; better the next day reheated.

Makes at least 8 servings.

polenta with blood orange relish

2007-03-26T14:11:00.001-07:00

Pan-Grilled Polenta
makes about 8 small rounds or 6 medium triangles

1 cup milk
1/2 cup cream
1 clove garlic, peeled and whole
1 sprig of rosemary
1/2 cup polenta corn meal
salt
oil for frying

Combine the milk, cream, garlic and rosemary in a heavy bottomed pot on medium heat, and bring to a simmer. Let simmer for a minute or two and then remove the rosemary and garlic from the milk. Slowly add the corn meal, a little at a time, stirring constantly, until it’s all in. Reduce heat to low, and add a touch of salt. Keep stirring with a whisk or fork until the polenta thickens. Continue stirring for a bit longer. It will get really thick, and start to pull away from the pot.

Remove heat, and spread the polenta out in a casserole dish, to between 1/2 inch or 1/4 inch thick. Cover, and cool. You can keep it refrigerated like this for up to two days.

Once chilled, use a cookie cutter to cut out rounds, or simply slice into triangles, and carefully separate.

Heat enough oil to just cover the bottom of a griddle or frying pan on medium-high heat. Just before the smoking point, add the polenta pieces. Fry on each side for about 1 minute to brown. Carefully remove, and drain on a paper towel. Repeat with the rest of the pieces.

A note on oil: I have recently started using Avocado Oil for high heat cooking… it has a really nice fruitiness and holds up well to high heat. I also like Coconut Oil for frying.

To serve, top with the relish, and a few toasted pine nuts.

For an interesting spin on the pine nuts, after toasting them, toss them in a bit of salt and orange zest. The only trick is not to eat them all as you are cooking!

Blood Orange and Basil Relish

2 blood orange
8 leaves of fresh basil
2 t salad-quality olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Carefully segment the blood oranges, and dice the segments. Slice the basil into small strips. Then, mix all the ingredients together in a small bowl, and let sit for 10 to 15 minutes. Refrigerate up to one day, or serve immediately.

stuffed portobello with cashew cream sauce

2007-03-23T13:34:00.000-07:00

Stuffed Portobello Mushrooms With Cashew 'Cream' Sauce

The Washington Post, June 14, 2006

• Cuisine: American
• Course: Main Course
• Features: Fast, Meatless

Summary:

Meaty portobello mushrooms form the basis of this vegetarian entree. Look for thick, rather than flat, mushrooms so they're easier to slice in half. Here, they are roasted, then stuffed with the fillings of your choice and topped with a nutty nondairy sauce. We opted for roasted onion and chard fillings; other ideas include buttermilk mashed potatoes, roasted eggplant or spice-rubbed tofu.

Chinese chili sauce is available in the international aisle of most major supermarkets and at Asian specialty stores.

Serve with a salad.

6 servings

Ingredients:

For the mushrooms and roasted onion filling

• 2 large cloves garlic, minced
• 1/4 cup soy sauce (may substitute low-sodium soy sauce)
• 1 teaspoon Chinese chili sauce, such as Sambal Oelek
• 1/4 cup dry white wine or water
• 1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon canola oil
• 6 large (24 to 36 ounces) portobello mushroom caps, halved horizontally with a serrated knife
• 1 large red onion, cut into six 1/4-inch-thick slices
• Kosher salt
• Freshly ground black pepper

For the cashew 'cream' sauce

• 1 cup unsalted roasted cashews
• 2 cups water
• 1 teaspoon kosher salt

For the chard and garlic filling

• 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
• 2 teaspoons minced garlic
• 4 teaspoons dry white wine or water
• 1 bunch red, green or rainbow chard, stemmed and roughly chopped (about 2 1/2 cups packed)
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Directions:

For the portobello mushrooms and roasted onion filling: Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Have ready a large rimmed baking sheet lightly coated with nonstick spray oil.

In a wide, shallow dish, combine the garlic, soy sauce, chili sauce, wine or water and 1/4 cup of the oil, mixing well. Dip each mushroom half into the garlic soy sauce mixture. Place mushrooms and onion slices on the prepared baking sheet. Brush the onion slices with the remaining tablespoon of oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper to taste. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes. Set aside.

For the cashew "cream" sauce: Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat, combine the cashews and water and bring to a boil. Remove from the heat, cover and let sit for 10 to 20 minutes. Transfer the cashew mixture to a blender or food processor and add the salt. Blend on high for 2 to 3 minutes, or until completely smooth and slightly thickened. Set aside.

For the chard and garlic filling: In a large sauté pan over high heat, heat the oil until it shimmers. Add the garlic and cook, stirring, for 30 seconds, taking care not to let it burn. Add the wine or water (be careful; it could spatter). Add the chard, salt and pepper. Cook, stirring, about 2 minutes or until the chard is wilted.

To assemble: Reassemble the mushrooms, with a roasted onion slice and some of the chard filling between the mushroom layers. Bake for 6 to 8 minutes or until heated through. Transfer to plates and spoon some cashew sauce on top.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from "Celebrating the Seasons" (Happy Palate Press, 2006, $19.95), by John Littlewood, executive chef at the Westerbeke Ranch retreat center in Sonoma, Calif.

241 calories, g fat, g saturated fat, mg cholesterol, mg sodium, g carbohydrates, g dietary fiber, g protein.

Tested by Marcia Kramer for The Washington Post.

skillet lasagna

2007-03-23T13:33:00.002-07:00

Skillet Lasagna

The Washington Post, January 4, 2006

• Cuisine: Italian
• Course: Main Course
• Features: Fast, Kid-Friendly

Summary:

Lasagna is usually too labor-intensive to bother with during the week. With this version, though, you can sit down to dinner after just the time it would normally take to bake the lasagna.

Being made on the stovetop, this version is not layered; instead, it substitutes farfalle for the customary long, flat pasta. But all the traditional flavors -- tomato-based sauce, meat and three cheeses in addition to the pasta -- are still here. Italian sausage is robust, but turkey sausage makes an acceptable substitute.

4 servings

Ingredients:

• 8 ounces flat, dried pasta
• 1/3 pound ( ) Italian sausage or turkey sausage (sweet or hot), casings removed
• 1/2 cup finely chopped onion
• 1/2 cup chopped green bell pepper
• 1 small zucchini, diced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 can (14.5 ounces) no-salt-added tomato sauce
• 2 teaspoons dried oregano
• 1/2 teaspoon dried basil
• 1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 cup part-skim ricotta cheese
• 1/4 cup (1 ounce) part-skim mozzarella cheese, grated
• 2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese
• 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley
• 1 large egg, lightly beaten

Directions:

In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook the pasta until it is just barely done and still firm; do not overcook. Drain and set aside.

Meanwhile, in a large skillet over medium-high heat, brown the sausage, breaking up the clumps with a spoon, about 3 minutes. Add the onion and bell pepper and cook, stirring, for 3 minutes. Add the zucchini and garlic and cook for 1 minute. Drain off the fat. Stir in the tomato sauce, oregano, basil and thyme and salt and pepper to taste. Reduce the heat to medium and cook for 10 minutes.

In a medium bowl, mix the three cheeses, parsley, egg and more black pepper to taste. Add the cheese mixture and the pasta to the skillet. Cover and cook over medium-low heat for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Let stand for 5 minutes before serving.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from "Mom's Best One-Dish Suppers," by Andrea Chesman (Storey Publishing, 2005).

347 calories, 18g fat, 7g saturated fat, 115mg cholesterol, 410mg sodium, 26g carbohydrates, 4g dietary fiber, 20g protein.

apples and sausage

2007-03-23T13:33:00.001-07:00

Sausages With Cider Glaze

The Washington Post, October 29, 2003

• Cuisine: American
• Course: Main Course
• Features: Fast, Kid-Friendly

Summary:

Sometimes the simplest of meals are also the most revelatory.

Plain old apple cider is simmered with sausages and apples until it reduces to a sweet glaze that captures the essence of both apple and pork.

2 to 4 servings

Ingredients:

• 4 links smoked sausage (may substitute chorizo or other uncooked sausage)
• 2 firm cooking apples, such as Braeburn or Jonagold
• 2 cups apple cider

Directions:

Using a fork, prick each sausage several times. Core the apples. Cut each apple into quarters, then cut each quarter into 4 pieces. You should have pieces about 1 inch across.

In a large saucepan or skillet over medium-high heat, bring the sausages, apples and cider to a boil. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook, uncovered, until the apples are tender, about 10 minutes depending on the variety of apple. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the apple pieces to a plate; cover to keep warm.

Partially cover the pan and continue to simmer until the sausage is warmed through, about 10 more minutes. (If using uncooked sausage, cook until the sausage is cooked through, about 30 minutes.) Transfer the sausage to the plate with the apples; cover to keep warm.

Simmer the cider, uncovered, until it is reduced to a syrupy glaze. You should have a generous 1/4 cup of reduced cider. Drizzle the cider over the sausages and apples and serve immediately.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from "Cesar: Recipes From a Tapas Bar" by Olivier Said and James Mellgren with Maggie Pond (Ten Speed Press, 2003).

373 calories, 27g fat, 10g saturated fat, 58mg cholesterol, 780mg sodium, 13g carbohydrates, 2g dietary fiber, 12g protein.

pork tenderloin

2007-03-23T12:41:00.001-07:00

Pork Tenderloin With Apples and Mushrooms

The Washington Post, September 13, 2006

• Cuisine: American
• Course: Main Course

Summary:

The pork marinates in a tangy rub, gets a fast sear for extra flavor and then roasts in the oven with apples, mushrooms and onion. Serve with roasted sweet potatoes.

4 to 6 servings

Ingredients:

For the rub

• 2 tablespoons green peppercorns
• 2 tablespoons Creole-style mustard
• 2 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 2 tablespoons chopped rosemary

For the pork

• 1 1/2 pounds ( ) pork tenderloin
• Sea salt or kosher salt
• 2 strips thick-cut-apple-smoked bacon, cut into matchstick-size pieces
• 1 medium sweet onion, sliced thick
• 2 medium apples, cored and cut into 8 wedges
• 1/4 pound shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and sliced thick
• 2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
• 1/2 cup applejack butter

Directions:

For the rub: Use a mortar and pestle to crush the peppercorns, then mix them with the mustard, garlic and rosemary to make a thick paste.

For the pork: Using a thin-bladed knife, trim the silvery sinew from the thick end of the tenderloin and cut the meat into two equal pieces. Coat the tenderloin pieces with the mustard mixture and place in a resealable food storage bag. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours and up to 1 day.

When ready to cook, preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Season the tenderloin with a few pinches of salt.

In an ovenproof skillet over medium-high heat, cook the bacon for 2 to 3 minutes, until the fat is rendered and the bacon is just beginning to brown. Tip the pan slightly and use a slotted spoon to scrape the cooked bacon to the top of the pan, allowing the fat to drain away from the bacon. Transfer the bacon to a small bowl and set aside.

Return the skillet to the heat and add the pieces of seasoned tenderloin, making sure the bacon fat is hot enough to make them sizzle. Sear for about 3 minutes, until the meat has browned and releases easily from the hot pan. Use a pair of kitchen tongs to turn the meat and sear for about 3 minutes on all sides.

When each piece has evenly browned, scatter the onion slices around the pork and toss with the drippings so the onion begins to caramelize evenly. Add the apples, mushrooms and reserved bacon. Add the vinegar, scraping as you do to loosen any bits from the bottom of the pan, then add the applejack and cook for about 30 seconds. Season the mushrooms and apples with a pinch of salt and transfer the skillet to the oven for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the center of the meat is barely pink and a meat thermometer registers 150 degrees.

Transfer the meat to a cutting board and let it rest for 5 minutes. Cut the meat into thick slices and serve hot with the apples, onions and mushrooms, drizzled with any accumulated pan juices.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from a recipe by Russell Cronkhite, former chef at Blair House and author of "A Return to Sunday Dinner" (Multnomah, 2003).

306 calories, g fat, g saturated fat, mg cholesterol, mg sodium, g carbohydrates, g dietary fiber, g protein.

curry chicken burgers

2007-03-23T12:36:00.001-07:00

Curried Apple Chicken Burger

The Washington Post, August 13, 2005

• Cuisine: Indian
• Course: Main Course

Summary:

Here, the same elements that work so well in a salad are combined to make a burger. Because ground poultry makes a more compact and, therefore, drier burger, these burgers are best served with a chutney topping.

Makes 6 burgers

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 cup diced onion
• 1/2 cup diced peeled apple, preferably Granny Smith
• 1 teaspoon curry powder, preferably sweet, or more to taste
• 1 1/2 pounds ground chicken, preferably white meat
• 1/4 cup low-fat mayonnaise
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper
• 1 cup dried bread crumbs
• 2 to 3 tablespoons vegetable oil, for cooking
• Chutney

Directions:

In a small saute pan, heat the olive oil over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 2 minutes. Add the apple and cook, stirring, for 4 to 5 minutes until the apple pieces are soft and just beginning to color. Add the curry powder and stir to combine. Transfer the onion-apple mixture to a plate to cool.

In a large bowl, combine the cooled onion-apple mixture with the chicken, mayonnaise, salt and pepper to taste and 1/4 cup of the bread crumbs. Be careful not to overwork the meat; mix just enough to combine. Spread the remaining bread crumbs on a plate or in a small, shallow bowl. Divide the mixture into 6 portions and form each into a patty about 3/4 inch thick. As each patty is formed, place it on the bread crumbs, turning gently to coat. Discard excess bread crumbs.

Generously coat a large griddle or saute pan with oil and heat over medium heat. Add the burgers and saute until cooked completely through, turning once, about 12 minutes.

Serve with chutney of your choice.

Recipe Source:

Adapted from former Post recipe editor Stephanie Witt Sedgwick.

350 calories, 26g fat, 1g saturated fat, 3mg cholesterol, 216mg sodium, 9g carbohydrates, 1g dietary fiber, 20g protein.

passover from the washington post

2007-03-23T10:48:00.001-07:00

Passover "Rolls"

The Washington Post, April 1, 2001

• Course: Side Dish
• Features: Holiday (Passover)

Summary:

These rolls can be addictive. More than just something to place in the Seder bread basket, they work well as hamburger or hot dog rolls.

Makes about 12 large or 24 small rolls

Ingredients:

• 2 cups water
• 2 teaspoons salt, or to taste
• 4 teaspoons sugar
• 1 cup vegetable oil or margarine (preferably unsalted)
• 2 2/3 cups matzoh meal
• 8 eggs
• 1 to 2 cup diced onions, sauteed in oil or margarine (optional)

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper.

In a medium saucepan over low heat, heat the water, salt and sugar, stirring constantly, until the mixture clears. Add the oil or margarine and bring the mixture to a bare simmer, 2 to 3 minutes. Add the matzoh meal and, using a wooden spoon, stir until the mixture begins to pull away from the sides of the pan. Before removing the pan from the heat, cook, shaking the pan slightly, for 1 minute to dry out the mixture slightly. Scrape the mixture into a bowl; set aside to cool for about 10 minutes.

Add the eggs, 1 at a time, stirring after each addition and mixing until combined. Mixture should be very thick. If desired, add the onions.

Using a spoon, place scoops of the dough onto the prepared baking sheets about 2 inches apart. With lightly oiled hands, gently shape the dough into rolls. Bake for 20 minutes. Reduce the heat to 400 degrees and bake 30 to 40 minutes longer, until dry and golden. Transfer to a wire rack to cool. (May cool completely, wrap tightly and freeze.)

Macaroon Brownies

The Washington Post, April 1, 2001

• Course: Dessert
• Features: Fast, Holiday (Passover)

Summary:

It's inevitable. Every Passover Marcy Goldman ends up with too many macaroons. Here's a way to take something that not everyone loves and turn it into an irresistible crumbly chocolate treat that tastes like a Mounds bar. You may wish to add a handful of chopped bittersweet chocolate or nuts to the batter.

Makes about 24 brownies

Ingredients:

• 6 ounces semisweet chocolate
• 2 sticks margarine (preferably unsalted), at room temperature, plus additional for the pan
• 1 1/4 cups sugar (granulated or brown)
• 3 eggs
• 3/4 cup matzoh meal
• 1/4 cup potato starch
• 1 pinch salt
• 1 1/2 cups lightly packed, coarsely chopped Passover macaroons

Directions:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Lightly coat a 9-inch square baking pan with margarine.

Set a small pan over barely simmering water, without letting the pan touch the water. Heat the chocolate and margarine in the small pan until melted. Stir to combine and set aside to cool to room temperature.

Add the sugar, eggs, matzoh meal, potato starch and salt. Using a wooden spoon, gently fold in the macaroon pieces. Scrape the batter into the prepared pan.

Bake the brownies for 40 to 50 minutes, until the top appears set, is dry to the touch and is beginning to take on a crackled appearance. Transfer the pan to a wire rack to cool to room temperature before cutting into squares.

passover from martha stewart

2007-03-23T10:44:00.000-07:00

Chocolate Chip Cookies for Passover

Ingredients

Serving: Makes 2 dozen

1 Cup matzo meal
1 Cup matzo farfel
3/4 Cup granulated sugar
1/4 Cup packed light-brown sugar
1/4 Teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
1/2 Cup vegetable oil
1 Teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 Cup nondairy semisweet chocolate chips
1/2 Cup chopped walnuts, toasted

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees;. Stir together matzo meal, farfel, sugars, and salt. Whisk together eggs, oil, and vanilla in a small bowl. Stir egg mixture into sugar mixture. Stir in chocolate chips and nuts.
Roll dough into 1 3/4-inch balls; space 2 inches apart on parchment-lined baking sheets. Bake until golden, 16 to 18 minutes. Let cool on sheets on wire racks.

Profiteroles with Whipped Coconut Cream and Caramelized Bananas

This version of the Italian dessert classic was developed for our magazine's Passover desserts story. The cooked profiteroles may be made up to three weeks ahead and kept in resealable plastic bags in the freezer, and the whipped coconut cream may be made up to four days ahead and kept in the refrigerator. Assemble profiteroles just before serving.

Ingredients

Serving: Serves 12

1 Cup water
10 Tablespoons margarine
1/8 Teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoons granulated sugar
3/4 Cup matzo cake meal
1/4 Cup potato starch
5 large eggs, room temperature
6 medium just-ripe bananas
6 Tablespoons packed light-brown sugar
1/2 Cup freshly squeezed orange juice, (optional)
Whipped Coconut Cream

Directions

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Place water, 6 tablespoons margarine, salt, and granulated sugar in a medium saucepan. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Add matzo meal and potato starch at the same time; stir vigorously with a wooden spoon. Mixture will become extremely stiff. Continue stirring for 4 minutes more.
Transfer mixture to the bowl of electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. With the mixer on medium speed, add eggs one at a time, fully incorporating each egg before adding the next. Mixture should be smooth and satiny, but stiff enough to form a mound when dropped from a spoon.
Fit a pastry bag with a plain coupler. Line two baking sheets with parchment. Fill pastry bag with profiterole batter. Pipe six 2 1/2-inch mounds on each pan, spacing 3 inches apart.
Transfer to oven, and bake until profiteroles are puffed and golden, about 25 minutes. Transfer to wire rack to cool.
Slice bananas in half lengthwise; cut each half into thirds. Heat a large skillet over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons margarine and 1 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar. When margarine has melted and is sizzling, add half the bananas; brown them, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer bananas to a large shallow container to cool in a single layer. Melt another 2 tablespoons margarine with 1 1/2 tablespoons brown sugar in skillet; brown remaining bananas. Transfer to container.
To make the sauce, add orange juice, remaining 3 tablespoons brown sugar, and two pieces caramelized banana to empty pan. Whisk mixture over medium heat until thick and banana dissolves, about 1 minute.
Slice tops of profiteroles, leaving a small hinge. Insert two or three pieces of banana. Spoon 2 tablespoons whipped coconut cream onto banana. Serve with sauce.

leftover danish cookies from jumbo empanadas

2007-03-23T08:52:00.000-07:00

Leftover Danish Sandwich cookies (Adapted from Alice Medrich’s Melting Chocolate Meringues)

8 oz bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped

3 egg whites

2/8 tsp cream of tartar

¾ tsp vanilla extract

¼ cup sugar (generous)

1 package cappuccino mix (individual serving)

Preheat oven to 350F.

Melt the chocolate, and set aside.

In a large bowl whip the egg whites, cream of tartar, and vanilla extract until soft peaks form. Gradually add the sugar and cappuccino mix and whip till the peaks are stiff, but not dry. Fold in the melted chocolate.

Drop by rounded teaspoon on a silpat lined cookie sheet and bake 8-10 minutes. Leave on the baking sheet to cool.

Sandwich with leftover pastry cream from the danishes you made… yes, you have to make danishes first.

Eat them. Enjoy them. Delicious.

cranberry-cherry icebox ribbons

2007-03-23T08:13:00.001-07:00

Cranberry-Cherry Icebox Ribbons

from The All-American Cookie Book

makes about 30 cookies

About 3 ounces dried cranberries

Generous 1/3 cup sour cherry preserves

1 1/2 tablespoons sugar

1/8 teaspoon almond extract

2 cups plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon salt

3/4 cup sugar

2/3 cup unsalted butter, softened

1 large egg

2 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

For the filling: Combine the cranberries, cherry preserves, and sugar in a food processor. Process until coarsely pureed.

Transfer the mixture to a medium saucepan and cook over medium heat, stirring to avoid burning, until the mixture comes to a boil.

Remove from heat and add almond extract. Cover and refrigerate for an hour.

For the dough: Combine the flour, baking powder, and salt in a bowl and set aside.

In a mixer, combine the butter and sugar and blend together until smooth and creamy.

Add the egg, vanilla, and almond extract and beat until combined. Add the flour mixture and beat just until incorporated. Let the dough stand for about 10 minutes to let it firm up.

Line a 4 1/2 x 8 1/2 inch loaf pan with foil, letting the foil overhang the long sides so you can easily remove the dough from the pan. On top of the foil, line the pan with two sheets of plastic wrap laid crosswise and overhanging the longer sides as well.

Divide the dough into quarters. Shape one portion into roughly the size of the loaf pan and pat into the bottom. It may help to have a dough tamper to get the dough in evenly. Spread one-third of the cranberry filling over the dough with a small spatula. Repeat with the remaining three portions of dough and two portions of filling.

Fold the plastic wrap over the dough, completely covering it. Freeze the dough in the pan for at least 1 1/2 hours, until firm.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line several baking sheets with baking paper.

Take the loaf out of the freezer and unwrap the dough. You can allow it to warm up a bit for a few minutes, but don't let it get too soft or it will be difficult to cut neat slices and the filling will start squishing out.

Using a sharp knife, trim the sides so that the sides of the loaf are straight up and down. Wipe the knife off between cuts. Cut the loaf into thirds on its long side.

Cut each third into 1/4 inch slices that are about 2 3/4 inches long. Transfer the slices carefully to the baking sheets, placing them about 2 inches apart.

Bake one sheet at a time for about 9 to 14 minutes, until the edges are just starting to darken and firm up. Transfer the cookies to wire racks and let them cool completely.

Store cookies between layers of parchment paper in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

a really yummy-sounding meal from michel richard

2007-03-22T08:54:00.001-07:00

Alexandria, Va.: Question for Michel...

If you invited for dinner to a friend's house what would you like to be served?

Michel Richard: Prosciutto, the one I love the most is from Spain and is called Rabugo. Then roasted chicken with garlic and a crispy skin, and french fries. And, any kind of ice cream I never met an ice cream I didn't like.

more passover inspiration

2007-03-22T08:27:00.001-07:00

from rachel's bite blog

Spiced Egg Salad
(4 servings)

1/4 cup olive oil, divided
1/4 cup unsalted blanched dry-roasted peanuts
1 bird's eye chili, seeds and ribs removed, finely chopped
2 small red onions, finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tablespoon paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1 1/2 teaspoons chili powder
5 hard-boiled eggs, peeled and chopped
2 tomatoes, chopped
2 teaspoons chopped cilantro
1 tablespoon soy sauce
Juice of 1 lime
1/2 teaspoon salt

Heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil in a large saute pan over low heat. Add the peanuts and saute until golden, about 5 minutes. Stir in the chilies, onions, and garlic and saute until the onions are translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the paprika, ginger, and chili powder and cook until fragrant, about 2 minutes. Transfer to bowl.

Gently fold in the eggs, tomatoes, cilantro, soy sauce, lime juice, the remaining 2 tablespoons olive oil, and the salt. Serve at room temperature.