The Sweetest Things

Let's not tiptoe around the truth: this last week was full of sweets, all hand-made in Seattle. This city's not known for its bakers, but I envision many tempting walks to the pastry case this spring and summer.

The first treats came from Honore in Ballard, via friendly recommendation. The pastry of choice: the Kouign Amann, a buttery, sugary, sticky, slightly-salty circle of flakey pastry. I also picked two macaroons: salted-caramel coconut and coffee. Fragile, delicious. Loved the lighthouse coffee and the weird-but-friendly baristas. We will definitely be back to Honore.

Moving from Wallingford, we left things behind: the phenomenal view from Gasworks, a walking commute to work, tasty vegan thai. But we didn't leave behind the chocolate. After Indian on Friday, we stopped at Chacolati in Greenwood for a mocha and spicy hot chocolate, plus two little peanut butter cups. The cozy coffeeshop smells like a box of truffles. A bit much for my morning caffeine, but pretty perfect after dinner.

The kitchen at work is consistently stocked with free food: big platters of Thai from some lunch, assorted cookies, bagels, muffins, gift baskets from anonymous and grateful friends, a random loaf of bread (I don't know who left the whole wheat last week, but thanks for the toast!).

Mid-week, hidden behind a pile of japanese chips and cookies in iridescent gift-basket cellophane, I found a small square cake covered in chocolate curlicues -- not just a cake, but a superfluffy hazelnut chocolate mousse from Bakery Nouveau in West Seattle, on a crunchy chocolate base. I considered grabbing the cake and running for home, but beyond the impracticality of jogging with mousse, taking only my fair share seemed best. I do love desserts, but sharing is sweetest. :)

A hypothetical fire

When preparing a multi-layered dish for a dinner party, I recommend organizing your ingredients and working patiently through each step. Rebellious efforts to simultaneously saute vegetables, whisk bechamel, and flip crepes will likely result in temporary panic and potential scarring (either physical or mental, if not both).

If you're like me, though, you will ignore common sense and insist on all doing all things at once. When you do, please not place your paper towel-covered plate of finished crepes on your fourth, unused burner.

But because you will, for convenience, place this highly-flammable plate on the stove, let's explore the consequences. You will eventually confuse your burners while attempting to turn on the heat for another pan. You will realize your mistake when the clicking of the gas gives way to a burst of flames engulfing your crepes. You will suppress screams, block out visions of your house burned to ash, and turn off the gas burner. With a pot-holdered hand, grab a non-flaming edge of the plate and carefully (frantically) place (hurl) it into the sink. Your flames have probably died down. Grab up any unburnt crepes and douse the smoldering mess with water.

Check the kitchen for lingering fire or distressed witnesses. Assuming none, assess the damage. If any crepes bear burnt edges, you may instinctively stuff them in your mouth and swallow as quickly as possible, to hide evidence. (Although I certainly have never done this, I would venture that burnt crepes do not taste quite the same.) Arrange unburnt crepes on a clean plate, and be thankful your significant other is still napping in the basement. Continue with recipe as normal. Do not share this story at your party.

Tea for Two

Yesterday morning, I wandered across campus for a meeting with someone I kind of knew, but not really. I was very early (on account of my own general confusion) and she had just arrived, but as soon as she unlocked her office door, she offered me a cup of tea.

I enjoyed the tea, strongly vanilla. But the unexpected social pause it brought was even more delightful. I arrived prepared for spreadsheets and action items, and instead found a few minutes to talk about maps, family, careers. I felt more comfortable with my colleague, more engaged with our work conversation. Maybe her general open demeanor would have made it a pleasant meeting regardless, but I think the tea set a friendly, personal tone often absent from offices and conference rooms.

I've had other beverage moments with colleagues -- sing-along tea times with Kelsey, Very Important Meetings at the Faculty Club, perhaps a party with a few too many drinks (I do *not* recommend this as a team-building strategy). But maybe I'll keep a basket of tea around for visitors.

Butternut Pasta Sauce

In trying to eat a little less meat recently, I've leaned a bit too heavily on butter and carbs. This dish omits the former and gives you some flexibility with the latter: swap out boring white fettuccine for whole wheat, or use some type of filled pasta -- spinach could work well. And/or mix in some green vegetable (peas? asparagus?) for textural variety.

The sauce is super creamy, without needing an ounce of cream (I omitted from the original recipe). If you want to add some heavy cream, do so before adding the broth at the end.

Roasted Butternut Pasta Sauce

from Everyday Food

Ingredients

• 1 medium butternut squash (about 1 1/2 pounds)
• 1 T olive oil
• 1/2 tsp dried rubbed sage
• 5 cloves garlic, peeled
• 1-2 C chicken or vegetable broth
• 1 lb pasta (something to which sauce will cling)

Directions (in short: roast, puree, and add to pasta)

Preheat oven to 375. Peel, seed, and cube squash -- don't worry about appearances, just make everything equal sized for effective roasting.

Toss squash with olive oil and scatter with garlic on a rimmed baking sheet. Roast until very soft, ~40 minutes, stirring once or twice.

Puree in a food processor or blender. Add just enough chicken or vegetable broth to thin sauce to desired consistency. Season with salt and pepper. Serve with desired toppings, and serve with a little parmesan, sage, or crushed walnuts.

Cyndy's House Of (awesome) Pancakes

Aurora may not have trendy cupcakes or block-long ice cream lines, but it has plenty to eat: burgers, pho, teriyaki, teriyaki, teriyaki, and (opening soon!) Ethiopian. And, we have Cyndy's House Of (awesome) Pancakes.

Before we moved, I heard Cyndy's was becoming a strip club. Fortunately, this was either rumor or the deal fell through. Cyndy's remains open (though only till 3pm), with perfectly-cooked eggs, crisp bacon, and super friendly servers. The decor is charmingly 1970s: note the 25-foot metal flower collage on the wood-paneled wall.

But most importantly, the pancakes are fluffy and delicious. I don't know what makes a great pancake, and I've certainly never figured it out at home. How do you get them fluffy without being doughy? How do brown them just enough? What makes that perfect pancake flavor? I've read the recipes, but my best answer is to visit Cyndy's.

Crepe Flipping: The Movie

Afraid to flip? It's simple:

1: make sure your crepe/pancake/etc is no longer stuck to the pan,

2: pick up the pan and move it in a tight circle: away from you, up, then pull it back towards you (very quickly). Instead of the pan, think of your thumb moving in this circle, maybe 8" in diameter.

If I took anything away from that 3-hour french cooking class at Blue Ribbon, it's this ability to flip a crepe.

Now repeat 23 times for your delightful Gateau de Crepes a la Florantine.

Chicken Soup for the Dying Soul

OK, this is my last post about having the flu, I promise.

Who doesn't crave a good chicken noodle soup when you're sick? It's warm, broth-y goodness just has a way of being the perfect meal when you're feeling under the weather.

While on my way to pick up a can of Campbell's classic chicken noodle soup, I thought, why am I buying a MSG-filled, sodium-packed (1 can has over 2000 grams of sodium!!!) canned soup when I can easily make a fresh one?

I literally just made this recipe up in the grocery store:

Mel's Chicken Noodle Soup
Ingredients:

• 2 celery stalks
• 2 carrots
• 1 onion
• 3-4 cloves of garlic (has great anti-viral, anti-bacterial properties)
• 1-2 chicken breasts depending on how meat-y you like your soup
• 32 FL.OZ. chicken broth or stock
• About 1 cup of your pasta of choice
• Fresh Herbs: Just use what you have available and substitute for dried if you need to. I used fresh sage, thyme, rosemary
• A handful of spinach finely chopped

Directions:

• Saute the celery, carrots, onion and garlic for about 10 minutes. Or, until sofritto (Italian for nice and tender!). Meanwhile, cut the chicken into nice bite-sized chunks. Add the chicken to the vegetables, and cook together for a few minutes. Next, finely chop the herbs and spinach and add them to the pot. Cook for a few more minutes and then add the chicken broth (adding more water if necessary). Once soup has cooked for about 5 minutes, add the pasta and cook for another 10-15 minutes (or until the pasta is done). Serve with Macrina Bakery's tasty potato bread and some olive oil infused with a bit of salt and Italian herbs for dipping.

Tips:

• Leave the vegetables cut relatively thick since they constitute the heart of the soup.
• If you need more liquid, just add some water. With all the other flavors you won't notice the plainness of the water.
• Who wants to wait 45min to cook some chicken breasts for a soup when you're sick? Go easy on yourself and pick-up an already cooked whole roasted chicken. Many places even sell half a chicken.

Brunch with a flip: Crepes a la Florentine

For three months, I served crepes and wine at a cafe near my college apartment. I'd never even tasted a crepe when the retired-engineer-turned-restauranteur hired me, but the recipes were works-in-progress, so I ate crepes all summer: with asparagus and hollandaise, banana and nutella, flaming crepes suzette.

In the six years since, I never made them at home -- until today. With a recipe and a little inspiration from a recent class at Blue Ribbon Cooking, I prepared my mise en place forGateau de Crepes a la Florentine (roughly translated: giant saucy pan of crepes with spinach).

Despite initial fear, I've pretty much mastered the French flipping of a crepe: paper-thin disks fly from my frying pan, crisp at the edges, perfectly browned on one side. I flipped about 30 crepes today, and not one landed outside the pan. Yes, quite impressive, thanks.

Note: this is a long recipe with many steps, but it's not super tricky and can be assembled in advance then heated half an hour before serving.

Gateau de Crepes a la Florentine

Ingredients:

• Batter for 24 crepes (must be made at least 2 hours in advance)

For the sauce mornay (bechamel with cheese):

• 5 T flour
• 4 T butter
• 2¾ cups boiling milk
• 1/2 tsp salt1/4 tsp pepper
• Nutmeg, whole for grating
• ¼ C heavy cream
• 1 C coarsely grated cheese -- should be swiss, but I used an aged white cheddar

For the spinach filling (this is double the suggested amount of spinach, which seemed like barely a garnish in the dish):

• 3 C wilted, chopped spinach (just wilt it in a medium-hot pan, no oil necessary)
• 2-4 T of the mornay sauce above
• Salt + pepper

For cheese and mushroom filling:

• 1 C cream cheese
• Salt and pepper
• 1 egg
• 1 C chopped mushrooms
• 1 T minced green onion
• 1 T butter

For finishing:

• 2 T grated cheese
• 1 T butter

Make the sauce mornay:

Melt butter, then add flour and whisk two minutes. Remove from heat, and beat in the hot milk, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. Boil, stirring, until slightly thick. Reduce heat and slowly stir in cream, then cheese. Remove from heat.

The spinach:
Mix wilted spinach with 2-4 T of the sauce mornay. Salt and pepper to taste.

The cheese and mushroom filling:
Saute mushrooms and green onions in butter. Beat cream cheese and egg in a bowl, then stir in mushrooms. Season.

Assemble:

Either make all your crepes in advance, or make them as you assemble the dish.

Line a lightly-buttered baking dish with crepes, overlapping just a bit and tearing them in half if they don't fit properly whole (no one will see what they look like, so just make it work). Then layer: first, a thin layer of spinach, then a thin layer of mushroom filling, then spread sauce mornay over it. Continue, with a layer of crepes, then spinach, then mushroom, then mornay. Finish with a layer of crepes, and cover with remaining sauce mornay. Sprinkle with remaining cheese, and dot with butter. Refrigerate until a half-hour before serving, or proceed directly with baking.

Bake:

Preheat oven to 375. Bake dish 25 to 30 minutes in upper third of oven. To serve, cut in pie-shaped wedges.

Mac (or penne) + Cheese

I read a lot of recipes. A good one is almost narrative, with appealing characters, dramatic conflicts, and a satisfying resolution. On a rainy Thursday, I want a comfortable old book and unpretentious food.

Fortunately, fate (disguised as time-wasting at work) let me to this mac + cheese recipe on a friend's very-entertaining blog. Since it comes from New York, I'll pretend it's a bit sophisticated. (Er, wait, it's actually from The Pioneer Woman. Hm. I guess pioneers are chic in a bonnet-wearing way.)

I will definitely follow Kelsey's adaptations to use lots of mustard and pepper. And I'll probably use whole-wheat penne, since I have that at home. Usually I reserve my excitement for dinner until after lunch, but today I'm making an exception.

Girls Don't Cry: Chop An Onion Safely

So I made French onion soup recently. Nothing amazing. But, in the process I thinly sliced two large onions without dissolving into searing, crying eyes. Not a tear in sight. My new solution to the eternal eye-onion conflict: Press your tongue to the roof of you mouth while chopping. I saw it online somewhere.The wonders of the Internet.

Other tricks include opening a window, lighting a candle or incense near your cutting board (who wants their food flavored with a hint of patchouli?), and wearing goggles (no thanks). Or, since the reaction is supposedly more pronounced in fresh onions, you could use old vegetables. I'd rather not.

My onion allergy typically causes frequent mid-chop pauses, interrupts my chefly rhythm, and risks my fingertips with blurred vision. Let's hope this new trick proves successful.

Caramel Corn

If I trust anyone to turn a fairly healthy food into a sugary, buttery bowl of snacktime happiness, it's Paula Deen. For our Oscar party, I followed her simple instructions for Caramel Corn. (Can't you just hear Savannah grandma drawl wooing you with care-a-mel?)

This takes about 5 minutes of work (10 if you include the stirring later), plus very little skill beyond not burning your fingers on hot sugar. The baking soda makes the caramel puff up and become more mixable. One very important tip: filter out all unpopped kernels before mixing the popcorn and hot caramel, or you'll find them later glued unpleasantly into the popcorn.

Paula Deen's Caramel Corn

Ingredients

• 1 C butter
• 2 C packed brown sugar
• 1 tsp salt
• 1/2 C light corn syrup
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 8 quarts popped corn

Directions

Melt first 4 ingredients in a saucepan over medium. Boil 5 minutes. Remove from heat. Stir in baking soda.

Pour hot caramel over popcorn. Stir to coat -- you'll stir more as it bakes, so it doesn't need to be 100% perfect.

Bake in large roasting pan (something with sides at lest a few inches high) at 200 degrees for 1 hour, stirring every 15 minutes. Cool thoroughly before eating.

Your Cup of Tea

I'm not really a huge fan of tea -- the taste anyway. While I love the idea of fresh herbs and spices seeping in a steamy mug, I'm always a bit underwhelmed, finding the overall taste bitter, watered down and not very fulfilling. Guess I'll always be a coffee over tea kind-o-gal.

That said, when I'm sick, I drink tea by the bucket load as I'm a firm believer in the power of herbal remedies. I think 6 cups of tea was my max last week. Pretty impressive right?

Traditional Medicinals have always been my go-to when I'm sick. I can't recommend them enough. All of the blends are caffeine free and organic. While the taste might not always leave you ready for a refill, I really truly believe they work. Give em' a try next time you're under the weather. And, if those fail, you can always try my salad bowl spa ;)

My New Motto for Spring

I like this poster. It makes me want to pull up all the grass in our front yard and start a veggie garden (hopefully my husband is not reading this).


I started some of Renee's Garden "Rainbow Blend" heirloom tomato seeds indoors about 2 weeks ago which I will hopefully find time to blog about soon. Some might be an understatement. I planted over 50 seeds. 52 to be exact. Oops. I may very well be able to quit my job and become a full-time tomato farmer. The little seedlings have already begun to sprout, and I need to start moving them out of their tiny seed starter trays and into some larger containers. That's my project this weekend. I can't bring myself to abort them, so I will be looking for homes for the little seedlings soon. If you know of anyone that wants a beautiful, healthy tomato plant, let me know. I just want to make sure they find good homes.

Should You Eat Like an Icelander?

photos via flickr

According to Jen Murphy in Food & Wine magazine, the answer is a definite yes. I've already informed you of the amazing benefits and nutritional value of eating skyr. But now I can add Icelandic raised lamb and seafood to the list.

Read the full article here.

Let's hope Whole Foods continues to import more of these Icelandic ingredients. Though, you can leave the raw shark meat in Iceland.