Another Delicious Bean Dish for New Parents (and Everyone Else)

We continue to stock our freezer with all manner of prepackaged frozen foods that seem on the healthier end of the scale — a variety of tots, cauliflower pizzas, Trader Joe’s mahi mahi burgers, anything from Dr. Praeger’s. Though we’re certainly capable of organizing a meal two months into parenthood, I like the security of easy backstock for the days when the baby naps no longer than 30 minutes at a time. What could be an easier recipe for tired parents than a) turn on oven, b) spread tots on sheet pan, c) bake until heated through and lightly brown.  It’s great.

But! There’s a better option!

Ali Slagle’s Cheesy Black Bean Bake, which I learned about from Luisa Weiss last winter, takes all of 10 minutes from start to finish, and is disproportionally tasty. Essentially just canned black beans mixed with spices and topped with cheese, it turns our kitchen into the best Tex-Mex restaurant around. We tend to serve it with microwaved rice, a sliced avocado, and the leftover roasted sweet potatoes that are almost always in our fridge. Someday I’d love to try it as a dip with tortilla chips and a margarita.

CHEESY BLACK BEAN BAKE, inspired by Ali Slagle*

You’ll need:
2 tbsp olive oil
1 shallot, chopped
4 tbsp tomato paste
1/2 tsp pimentón (Spanish smoked paprika)
1/2 tsp garlic powder
2 cans black beans, rinsed and drained
1/2 cup hot water
1/2 cup to 1 cup grated cheddar cheese
Salt and Pepper

Note: This recipe moves fast! Have everything ready before starting, otherwise it is stressful, and 10-minute recipes should not be stressful.

Heat oven to 450.

In a large, oven-safe skillet, heat olive oil over medium-high. Add the shallot and cook until soft, about 2-3 minutes. Reduce heat to medium and add the tomato paste, pimentón, and garlic powder (be careful of splattering), and stir to evenly combine with the shallot. Add the black beans, water, and generous pinches of salt and pepper, and stir to combine. Sprinkle the cheese evenly over the top. Place the skillet in the oven and bake until the cheese has melted and is lightly browned, about 5 minutes.

*I changed quite a bit of her recipe (shallot instead of garlic, different spices), but the concept is the same.

A Salad for New Parents

I hope whenever I make this salad again — and I intend to do so for the rest of my life — that I think of the postpartum weeks with Olivia. Not the first few days, when we subsisted only on the food that others had prepared and delivered, but the beginning of the emergence from the fog. When I could manage a quick trip to the grocery store and to clean and chop vegetables. When Olivia started to sleep up to seven hours at night, and in cat naps during the day. When she started to smile and coo and kick, kick, kick around her farm-themed gym.

Spending perhaps a third of my day in a chair with a baby and a bottle has left a surprising amount of time to read. When I’m actually able to turn my gaze from her adorable face I catch up on the news, read longform magazine pieces, and check on my favorite blogs. I’m even reading a novel — Joyce Maynard’s new release Count the Ways — and am so deeply engrossed in it that I’ve picked it up in bed late at night, while Olivia sleeps in her bassinet just inches from me, when I should absolutely be sleeping too.

I used to be obsessed with Heidi Swanson, never missing a blog or Instagram post, and buying her books on the day of release. (She was my food hero when I met Jeff; the first meal I cooked for him was entirely her recipes, from the book that she had put out that fall.) At some point I stopped checking in on her every day, so much so that I missed that she had put a new book out this past March. When I learned of this from the rocking chair I clicked order then immediately selected a salad to make from one of Heidi’s recent posts. This Carrot and White Bean Salad doesn’t come from Super Natural Simple, but it may well have.  Even new parents can handle it!

CARROT AND WHITE BEAN SALAD, inspired by Heidi Swanson

You’ll need:
1/4 cup olive oil, plus more for the pan
3 tbsp lemon juice (from 1-2 lemons)
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 cup thinly sliced shallot (about 1 shallot)
2 cups carrots, sliced about 1/4-inch thick on the bias (about 5 medium-large carrots, but sometimes I add more)
2 cans white beans, such as Cannellini or Great Northern, rinsed and drained 
1/4 cup chopped fresh herbs (if you picked up chives at the farmers market on your baby’s first outing ever, use them here)
1 tbsp brown sugar
1/3 cup sliced almonds, toasted (not toasted is fine too, if you have a 4-week-old baby)

In a small bowl stir together the olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and shallot. Set aside while you prepare the rest.

In a large skillet over medium-high heat, add the carrots and enough olive oil to coat them. Cook for about 12 minutes, tossing every 3-4 minutes. As best as you can, try to keep the carrots in a single layer, to encourage browning on both sides.

Add the beans and herbs to the skillet. Cook for about 5 minutes, until the beans are heated through. Stir every now and then, but not too frequently, to lightly toast the beans.

Transfer the contents of the skillet to a large mixing bowl. Sprinkle the brown sugar and pour 3/4 of the dressing over the top. Gently stir to combine. Let sit for at least 10 minutes, then taste and add more dressing if necessary. Sprinkle the almonds across the top.

This salad is delicious served warm, room temperature, or cold as leftovers.

Reintroducing Normal Life

They say to reintroduce parts of your life from before, when you can. Minutes ago was Olivia’s four week birthday, which we celebrated by staring at her asleep on the baby monitor, and I’m going to try to take the next 15 minutes to talk about my new favorite brownies. **

These brownies had been in the back of my mind for forever, because I remember Jeff once said he used to make them before we started dating. They came to the forefront of my mind during week 38 of pregnancy, when they recommend consuming an abundance of dates for let’s just say stretching purposes. (Who are “they”, by the way?)

I’ve yet to find a traditional brownie I like to bake at home, and now I may never. I think I prefer this raw, sugar free, gluten free, vegan variety composed of dates, walnuts, and cocoa powder blended together in a food processor, then pressed and set in the freezer. It’s that good.

PS — If you can, don’t skip the raw cacao nibs; the crunch is so satisfying!

** ”Minutes ago” as of the time of writing, not publishing, because she of course woke up before completion, because she’s a little baby!

RAW DATE BROWNIES, from Oh She Glows

For the brownies, you’ll need:
1 cup walnut pieces
1/2 cup hemp hearts
1-1/2 cups pitted dates
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1-1/2 tsp vanilla
1/4 tsp fine sea salt
1 to 3 tsp water, as needed
1/3 cup chopped walnuts
2 tbsp raw cacao nibs

For the chocolate glaze, you’ll need:
1/2 cup virgin coconut oil
1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 cup pure maple syrup
Pinch of fine sea salt
1/4 tsp vanilla

Prepare an 8x8 square pan by lining with parchment paper, leaving overhang to remove the brownies. (Use a 9x5 loaf pan for thicker brownies.)

In a food processor, add 1 cup walnuts and process to a fine crumb. Add the hemp seeds and dates and process until finely chopped and sticky. Add the cocoa powder, vanilla, and salt and process until combined. The mixture should be slightly sticky, and if it’s not add 1 to 3 tsp of water and process again, until slightly sticky consistency. Add remaining walnuts and cacao nibs and process until just combined, leaving both a little chunky.

Spoon the mixture into the prepared pan and use your hands to press it down evenly. Place the pan in the freezer for about 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, make the chocolate glaze. Add the coconut oil to a medium pot over low heat. When melted, remove from heat and whisk in the cocoa powder, maple syrup, salt, and vanilla until smooth.

Remove the brownies from the freezer and pour over all of the chocolate topping. Place the pan back in the freezer on a flat, even surface for at least 20 minutes, until the topping is set.

Remove from the freezer, and use the excess parchment to lift the brownies from the pan. If necessary, run a knife under hot water and use it to loosen the edges. Slice the brownies into squares, again using a warm knife if necessary.

Muffins Representative of the Self

Last week we finished our rewatch of season 8 of the Great British Baking Show. At this point we’ve seen most seasons more than once, but this is my favorite. Partly because it was a bright light during quarantine summer, but mostly because I am so impressed with the 20-year-old champion, Peter. He was inspired to start baking after watching the first season when he was 12, which made the hosts, judges, contestants, and this viewer feel particularly old.

The final showstopper challenge was to create a cake-based dessert tower representative of the self. Peter’s was somewhat Christmas-y, as many of his bakes throughout the season were inspired by the holidays. Dave did a creative re-do of all of his failed bakes. I think Laura’s had chocolate. And since I can think of nothing more fun than a dessert tower inspired by my personality, I’ve been plotting out what I would do if there were ever a similar baking competition in the metro Detroit area.

The base would be a huge vanilla cake, I’m thinking three thin layers of Rose Levy Berenbaum’s perfect downy yellow butter cake, with vanilla bean pastry cream and perfect spring strawberries in between, the entire thing coated in a classic Swiss meringue buttercream. It’s not fancy, but it’s perfection — which is appropriate since this dessert is representative of ME!  ;)

The next layer up on the tower would be a yeasted, spiced bun. I love a traditional cinnamon roll, but I also have more flair than that. So I’m thinking perhaps orange zest and cardamom flavoring with a simple powdered sugar glaze and pearl sugar sprinkles.

Next up is my cheesecake layer. Can almond frangipane and/or marzipan be whipped and incorporated into a traditional cheesecake? I would like to test that out. I’m inclined to do a snappy chocolate wafer cookie crust here, and then the whole thing is drizzled in Michigan tart cherries in their own syrup.

Finally, a bundt cake crown because cake is king. A moist and flavorful rum cake, not unlike the Tortuga Caribbean Rum Cake you can pick up at the airport. Maybe I’ll mix some pureed caramelized apples into the batter, maybe I won’t.

The only thing that’s missing is cookies, preferably cute little shortbreads. I’m thinking three flavors will decorate the serving platter: a lemon-lavender variety, an iced coconut option, and toasted hazelnut with candied cacao nibs.

I don’t think I could possibly finish this in the four hour allotment, but maybe if I start now it will be done by my birthday in January.

Anyway, these muffins are not at all a dessert tower, but they are certainly representative of me. I’ve made them probably half a dozen times over the last few months. I used to not understand the appeal of sweet potatoes, which I think I associated almost exclusively with the Thanksgiving casserole that is still not my favorite. I’d eat them from time to time, but always preferred a crispy, roasted regular potato.

At some point that flipped, and now I don’t leave the grocery store without a bagful. We’ve been roasting cubed sweet potatoes with a variety of spices for a dinner side nearly once a week, and I like to keep steamed whole sweet potatoes in the refrigerator to quickly add to black bean burgers, chickpea cakes, quesadillas, and now these muffins.

These muffins come from Kim Boyce and one of my all-time favorite baking books — Good to the Grain: Baking with Whole-Grain Flours — which is also the source of my favorite chocolate chip cookies. Much like those cookies, whole wheat flour gives these muffins a nutty, deep flavor, and sweetness comes from both the potatoes and the chopped dates. With cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice, they seem best suited for fall, but try them anytime. These are year-round muffins!

SWEET POTATO MUFFINS, very loosely adapted from Kim Boyce

You’ll need:
1 medium (about 3/4 lb) sweet potato, cooked and cooled (I like to steam them when I have time and store in the refrigerator)
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup all purpose flour
1 tbsp cinnamon
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp allspice
1 egg
1 cup buttermilk
1/2 cup plain yogurt (not Greek)
4 tbsp butter (cold, unsalted)
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
6 dates, pitted and chopped
Turbinado or demerara sugar, for sprinkling (optional)

Heat oven to 350. Line a 12-cup standard muffin tin with paper cups or baking spray.

Sift the whole wheat flour, all purpose flour, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda, salt, nutmeg, and allspice in a large bowl. Set aside.

In a small bowl whisk together the buttermilk and yogurt. Set aside.

Add the butter and sugars to the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Mix on high speed for about 3 minutes, until light and creamy. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula.

Add the egg and half of the sweet potato, and mix on medium speed for about 1 minute, until combined. Again, scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula.

On low speed, add the dry ingredients and mix until mostly combined. Add the buttermilk-yogurt mixture and mix until combined. (Sometimes I do half of the dry ingredients, then half of the wet ingredients, then the other half of the dry, then the other half of the wet.) Add the dates and remaining sweet potato and mix until barely combined, so there are pockets of sweet potato in the batter. Remove the bowl from the mixer and use the spatula to give a few final turns to the batter, to ensure everything is combined.

Evenly scoop the batter into the prepared muffin cups. Sprinkle the tops with turbinado or demerara sugar, if you’d like.

Bake for 30-40 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Summer Cabbage Salad

I’m on maternity leave now, but no baby yet.  It feels completely surreal. What will my day be like on Tuesday, June 1, when I would normally return to work after Memorial Day? I have literally no idea.

Until then, I’m spending this long holiday weekend just as I would any other — albeit with more naps. I made a list of fun things to cook, grill, and bake, which is a real treat because our meals lately have heavily relied on the frozen foods aisle of the grocery store. This is not a complaint (we’ve found a delicious frozen eggplant pizza), but rather an adjustment to a new normal.

[I wanted to be the type of person, like Molly Yeh, who stocked her freezer full of individually portioned dinners, smoothies, and muffins before her daughter was born, but alas I ran out of time and energy and am completely ok with that. Again, adjusting to a new normal. I did manage to put five bean burgers and two types of soup (1, 2) in the freezer… but will I even want soup in the summer? Not sure.]

Two nights ago I did something I likely will not have time for again in the coming months — I composed a laborious salad. It required the food processor to shred cabbage, a small saucepan to pickle red onion, a medium saucepan to blanch asparagus, an ice bath for said asparagus, four other vegetables julienned, and a homemade dressing. And it was worth the entire hour-plus it took to prepare.

This salad is fresh, crunchy, and ready to be topped with whatever you’re grilling — in Jenny’s case shrimp, and for us our new favorite maple barbecue salmon kabobs, purchased pre-glazed and skewered from the local meat market (these will be on repeat all summer). I’m calling it the Summer Cabbage Salad, even if it never tops our outdoor dining table again. Or at least not til 2022.

SUMMER CABBAGE SALAD, inspired by Jenny Rosenstrach

You’ll need:
1/2 bunch of asparagus (about 10 spears), trimmed of woody stems
1-1/2 cups shredded cabbage (about half of a medium cabbage)
3/4 cup shredded carrots 
1 small red pepper, thinly sliced
2 celery stalks, thinly sliced
1/2 cucumber, peeled, seeded, and thinly sliced
4 radishes, thinly sliced
1/3 cup quick pickled red onions (recipe follows)
Generous handful of chives, minced
Jenny’s Vinaigrette (recipe follows), or another favorite vinaigrette 

Note: This could very easily be doubled for a large, potluck-sized salad.

Bring a medium pot of water to a boil, then reduce to a simmer. Add asparagus and cook 3-4 minutes, then immediately transfer to a bowl of ice water to stop the cooking. When cooled, chop into coins.

In a large bowl, combine the asparagus, cabbage, carrots, red pepper, celery, cucumber, radishes, pickled onions and chives. Toss to combine. Pour over the vinaigrette and toss again.

Serve on its own or topped with your favorite grilled seafood (like maple barbecue salmon).

QUICK PICKLED RED ONION

Combine 2 cups of water, 1/3 cup red wine vinegar, 3 tbsp sugar, 2 tsp salt, a few black peppercorns, and 1 smashed garlic clove in a medium pot. Bring to a boil. Thinly slice 1 medium red onion and add to the pot.  Simmer for about 5 minutes, then drain and let cool.

JENNY’S VINAIGRETTE

Add 1/4 cup red wine vinegar, 1 tsp Dijon mustard, squeeze of fresh lemon juice, 1/4 tsp sugar, 1/3 cup olive oil, salt, and pepper to a small bowl. Whisk to combine.

Bananas: My New Favorite Food

A year ago I couldn’t stomach the idea of another banana bread. Like the rest of America, we tried many different varieties in early quarantine, and after a month of it I was completely turned off. No more.

I wasn’t the biggest fan to begin with anyway. Banana bread is inherently an afterthought; it’s purpose is to use up old produce. Boring! And when there are thousands of breakfast bread recipes to try — Julia Turshen’s orange yogurt cake is a new favorite; I’m dreaming of a strawberry loaf bread right now — why limit yourself?

Well, as it turns out, this baby loves bananas. Every day I conduct an experiment wherein I eat a banana to see if she immediately starts to kick. Most of the time she does! I’ve determined it’s her favorite food, and so bananas have suddenly become one of my favorite foods.

The banana bread in Giada’s new book calls for almond butter, almond milk, and almond flour, and I was intrigued. Along with coconut oil and rice flour, it’s different from your classic quickbread recipe, and it yields the most moist and flavorful banana bread I’ve ever tried. As soon as I finish the last slice I start plotting to bake another one. Now I wonder how many I can fit in the freezer before this little lady’s arrival.

BANANA BREAD, lightly adapted from Giada de Laurentiis

You’ll need:
3 tbsp melted coconut oil, slightly cooled
3 very ripe bananas
1 egg
3/4 cup unsweetened almond milk
3/4 cup sugar (or coconut sugar)
1/3 cup almond butter
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp salt
1 cup almond flour
1 cup rice flour
2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 cup chocolate chips (bittersweet preferred, but semi-sweet will do)
1/2 cup chopped walnuts

Heat oven to 350. Prepare a loaf ban by spraying the inside with cooking spray, and lining with parchment paper.

Use a pastry blender or a fork to mash the bananas in a large bowl. Continue until only a few lumps remain. Add the egg and whisk until smooth. Add the almond milk, sugar, almond butter, coconut oil, vanilla, and salt, and whisk until smooth.

In a separate bowl whisk together the almond flour, rice flour, baking soda, and cinnamon until evenly combined.

Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and stir with a spatula until combined. Add the chocolate chips and stir until combined.

Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Sprinkle the chopped walnuts across the top. Bake for about 1 hour and 5 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out mostly clean (the bananas keep this bread very moist, so it’s ok if there are a few crumbs).

Let cool on the counter for at least 30 minutes before removing from pan. Let cool completely before slicing.

For the Baby's Brain

Pregnancy food recommendations are weird. Eat as much salmon as you can for the baby’s brain development! Don’t eat too much salmon though; you have to beware of mercury! Never eat it raw or smoked! A variety of literature will also, of course, dispute some of these so-called claims. I’m generally a rule-following, risk-averse person, so I’ve tried to stick to two servings of seafood per week pulled appropriately from the “eat good fish” document my doctor’s office emailed me when I called to make my first prenatal appointment.

Further complicating the matter is how picky I am about fish. As a consumer I do not generally subscribe to the belief that a more expensive product indicates better quality. Except when it comes to seafood. Then, yeah, absolutely I will drop more cash to take home a fresher, more flavorful variety. I don’t really like it from the regular grocery store, especially not when somebody else picks it out and delivers it to me (as we’ve acquired most of our groceries since quarantine this way). Thankfully, there’s a great seafood market right by my office, and I’ve taken to picking up a nice filet of salmon (or trout) every Friday. Usually we simply roast it with our favorite spice blend, though a few times lately it’s been warm enough to grill it on cedar planks. But sometimes I need something different.

Enter the new book from Giada de Laurentiis — Eat Better, Feel Better — which Jeff ordered as a surprise and had shipped to me. Every recipe I’ve tried so far has been simple, delicious, and — though I hate assigning foods as good or bad — good for you, as in, leaves me feeling strong and energetic. This salad incorporates some of my favorite flavors — arugula, fennel, basil — and could not be easier to assemble. Topped with flaked salmon it’s the perfect dish for me (and baby) to eat right now. When we finished last night I told Jeff I wanted this for dinner once a week going forward, and he said he did too!

ARUGULA AND FENNEL SALAD WITH SALMON, inspired by Giada de Laurentiis

You’ll need:
1 piece of salmon filet, about 1/2 lb or slightly larger
3/4 tsp salt, divided
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 tbsp olive oil
3 cups baby arugula, roughly chopped
3 small celery stalks, very thinly sliced (this is key)
1 large fennel bulb, stalks and core removed, very thinly sliced (this is key)
1/2 cup torn fresh basil leaves
2 radishes, very thinly sliced (this is key)

Heat oven to 425. Lay salmon skin-side down on a foil-lined sheet tray, and sprinkle with 1/2 tsp of salt. Roast until cooked through and slightly golden on top, about 13 minutes. Remove from the oven and let rest for about 1 minute, then use two forks to flake the fish into large pieces. The skin should stick to the foil, but if not then remove it as you flake the salmon.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl whisk together the mustard, vinegar, olive oil, and remaining 1/4 tsp of salt. In a large bowl, combine the arugula, celery, fennel, and basil. Pour the dressing over the salad (I always start by holding off on the full amount, and adding more later if necessary), and use tongs or your hands to toss everything together. Divide the salad among two large serving bowls. Top evenly with the flaked salmon and sliced radishes.

Two Great Pregnancy Sandwiches

I’m a little disappointed to say that I haven’t (yet) had any major food aversions or cravings while carrying this baby girl. I’m also grateful for that, and the ability to keep my meals and health relatively normal, but it sure would be fun to talk about how I made Jeff throw out every banana in the house, or run to Kroger in the middle of the night for six varieties of pickles.

There have been some minor ones. In the beginning I couldn’t stand garlic or chicken broth (still don’t know if I can ever remake that chicken meatball noodle soup.) There were the two weeks in December when all I wanted was pulled pork and brisket. There have been one-offs, like I need Chinese chicken stir fry tonight, which passed by the next night. And probably an above-average amount of chocolate chip cookies consumed since October.

The one exception that I continue to wish for — though not in a desperate way — is sandwiches. I would take an Italian sub layered with all of the smoked meats, thick slices of provolone, red wine vinegar and olive oil, and a healthy shake of dried oregano right now — 8:22am — or any other time of day or night. Or a Georgia reuben on rye piled high with sliced, roasted turkey and coleslaw with lots of celery seed.

If I could, that is. Pregnant women are supposed to avoid deli meat due to a slight risk of listeria, and though I could microwave the meat to kill off any bacteria, I prefer my cold cuts cold. Which is why I cannot wait for the Zingerman’s sandwich delivery to my hospital room shortly after giving birth. In the meantime I have two hacks.

First, inspired by Zingerman’s Deli, is the turkey reuben minus the turkey: rye bread, swiss cheese, coleslaw, and lots of Russian dressing. This is very good grilled.

Second, the vegetarian muffaletta from my new favorite cookbook: Simply Julia. Its release last week was on par with a Taylor Swift album drop; thus far I have made her everything bagel hand pies, tomato orzo soup, stuffed cabbage, feta scallion dressing, apricot biscotti, potato chip salmon cakes, green spaghetti, roasted pineapple yogurt, spinach potato bites, and the aforementioned muffaletta (twice).

It’s a perfect sandwich, stacked with as much flavor as the enviable Italian sub: layers of caper mayonnaise, pickled iceberg, two types of cheese, tomatoes, and roasted red pepper. (Technically the caper mayonnaise also calls for chopped olives to form the olive salad of a more traditional muffaletta, but I prefer it without.) It’s a revelation, actually, to have a vegetarian sandwich this craveable, this “meaty.”

VEGETARIAN “REUBEN”

There are a few ways to get this sandwich.

1. You can order the Skokie Skidoo from Zingerman’s Deli, which this sandwich is a duplicate of.

2. You could buy prepared coleslaw and Russian dressing (maybe even from Zingerman’s!) for an easy make-at-home option.

3. You can make each component at home, which is fun to do, especially during a global quarantine.

You’ll need:
2 slices of rye bread, or even better onion rye bread
2-3 slices of swiss cheese
A hefty schmear of Russian Dressing (recipe follows)
A scoop of Deli Coleslaw (recipe follows)

Lay out 2 slices of rye bread. Top one slice with the swiss cheese, the other with the Russian dressing. Scoop the coleslaw onto the swiss cheese and gently spread to cover entirely. Flip the slice with the Russian dressing to form a sandwich. Enjoy as is, or — highly recommended — grill on a panini press or griddle pan.

RUSSIAN DRESSING

You’ll need:
3/4 cup mayonnaise
2 tbsp ketchup
2 tbsp hot sauce
2 tbsp sour cream
1-1/2 tbsp white onion, minced
1-1/2 tbsp dill pickle, minced
2 tsp parsley, chopped
1/2 tsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp prepared horseradish
1/4 tsp Worcestershire sauce

Whisk together all ingredients in a large bowl. Transfer to a covered container and store in the refrigerator until ready for use.

DELI COLESLAW

You’ll need:
1/2 of a medium green cabbage, very thinly sliced (about 4 cups)*
1/2 of a medium red cabbage, very thinly sliced (about 4 cups)*
3 medium carrots, peeled and grated*
1-1/2 tsp salt + 1/8 tsp salt, divided
1-1/2 tsp sugar
3/4 cup mayonnaise
1-1/2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 tsp honey
2 tsp celery seeds
1/2 tsp black pepper

*I use the food processor shredding disk to quickly slice the cabbage and grate the carrots. You could also use 1 whole green or red cabbage if you don’t want to buy both, though I like the variety of the 2 colors.

Toss the cabbage with 1-1/2 tsp of salt and the sugar, and place in a colander set over a large bowl (or the sink). Let sit for at least an hour to wilt, stirring and pressing occasionally with a spatula to encourage water to drain.

In a large bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, apple cider vinegar, honey, celery seeds, black pepper, and remaining 1/8 tsp salt. Add the carrots and cabbage and toss to combine. Refrigerate until ready for use.

VEGETARIAN MUFFALETTA, inspired by Julia Turshen

You’ll need:
4-6 leaves of Pickled Iceberg (recipe follows)
1 lg roasted red pepper (or slices that equal about the same) from a jar
1 lg tomato
1 tbsp capers
1/3 cup mayonnaise
4 crusty sandwich rolls, or a flat, crusty loaf such as ciabatta. (My preference is for the Paesano Roll from Zingerman’s Bakehouse. They are large, so you can get away with 2 rolls.)
1/2 lb fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced
1/4 lb sliced provolone cheese (about 4-6 slices)

Thinly slice the roasted red pepper (if not already sliced from the jar) and tomato and set onto a thick paper towel to drain any liquid.

Meanwhile, mix together the capers and the mayonnaise and set aside.

Slice the rolls or bread in half (so there is a top and bottom), and divide the caper mayonnaise each. Layer the bottom pieces equally with the mozzarella, red pepper, tomato, pickled iceberg, and provolone. Flip the top over to close the sandwiches. (If you used a loaf such as ciabatta, cut into 4 equal pieces).

Wrap each sandwich tightly in plastic wrap and set on a cutting board. Place another flat surface (such as a sheet tray) on top of the sandwiches and place something heavy (such as a cast iron skillet) on top of that. Allow the sandwiches to sit under that weight for 1 hour. This will allow the flavors to meld together, and it makes them easier to bite into.

Unwrap the sandwiches and serve, or store in the refrigerator for a day or so. (I find if you go the refrigerator route you really need to make sure the bread is crusty so that it doesn’t get soggy.)

PICKLED ICEBERG, inspired by Julia Turshen

You’ll need:
1/2 cup red wine vinegar
1 cup water
3 garlic cloves, peeled and left whole
1 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp fennel seeds
1 tbsp dried oregano
1 tsp pimentón (smoked Spanish paprika)
2 tsp kosher salt
1 small head of iceberg lettuce, outer leaves discarded, remaining leaves separated.

Place the vinegar, water, garlic, sugar, fennel, oregano, pimentón, and salt in a small saucepan and bring to a boil over high heat. Stir to dissolve the sugar and salt, then turn off heat.

Place 1 lettuce leaf in a large bowl, and pour a little of the hot mixture over it. Repeat with remaining leaves and the rest of the brine, adding any extra brine to the bowl. Let cool to room temperature, then remove each leaf and dry with paper towels.

Save the brine! Add it to a jar with sliced red onion and store in the refrigerator to make pickled red onions.

A Handful of Cherries Rode North With Us

“Cherries on the way!” came the forwarded shipping confirmation from my dad. The email contents revealed that a bundle of Montmorency and Balaton dried cherries from northern Michigan were being sent to me from my parents. Cool, I thought, I wonder why.

Within the hour my mom called. “Well they were on sale and I know you love them. And maybe you could make me a batch of cherry scones or muffins or granola too?”

Over the summer, after she had returned from a trip up north with a box of fresh cherries, I was asked to make a cherry tart, which was the perfect opportunity to finally use the tart pan I had purchased on sale at Sur La Table in 2017. I also learned in the process that tart dough is oftentimes made with powdered sugar, for tenderness like a shortbread cookie, and I got to try my hand at pastry cream for the first time. 

These familiar sorts of requests are so far from a chore for me. I get to learn something new, relax in my kitchen, and share in the results! Keep them coming, mom!

When I worked at Zingerman’s Bakehouse, I didn’t identify the currant scone as one of my favorite pastries, but oh how terribly I now miss its delicate crumb and buttery-sweet flavor! When the bakery’s cookbook came out a few years back, I flagged the recipe and never took action, until my mom’s recent “order” finally gave me the excuse. Per request, I subbed the dried currants for dried cherries, and I now think these are my favorite scones.

Coincidentally, our impromptu babymoon took us to Glen Arbor, home of the Cherry Republic, just days after the box arrived from their store. Which means that a large handful of the tart Montmorency variety rode back north with us, in scone form, for my breakfast each morning.

One final note about scones. A frequent complaint is that they are dry. Scones come in all sorts of textures, and I find these ones to be perfectly light, airy, crumbly, and not dry. But I can see how someone with a different palate might think that they are. After all, they’re not a muffin or a donut. Plus, I want to eat one alongside a cup of coffee. I think you’re either a scone person, or you’re not. And if you’re not, then — thank you! — more for me!

CHERRY SCONES, adapted from Zingerman’s Bakehouse

You’ll need:
3 cups + 1-1/2 tbsp pastry flour (436 g)
1/3 cup sugar (64 g)
1 tbsp baking powder (14 g)
1 tsp sea salt
1/2 cup butter, cold and unsalted (114 g)
3/4 cup dried cherries, roughly chopped if they are large (85 g)
1-1/2 cups heavy cream, cold (341 g)
2 eggs
*Next time I’d love to try adding about 1/2 tsp of spice, like cardamom or coriander or nutmeg.

Heat oven to 400.

In a large mixing bowl, stir together the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt (and spices, if using).  Dice the butter into approximately 1/4-inch cubes, and add to the flour mixture. Use a pastry cutter to cut the butter into the flour mixture, until it is coarse with pea-sized pieces of fat. Work quickly, as the butter should stay cold! Add the dried cherries and stir until evenly combined.

Make a well in the center of the mixture. Pour the heavy cream into the well, and use a fork to stir until shaggy. Use your hands or a bench scraper to knead the dough about 6-8 times in the bowl. Pour onto a lightly floured surface and knead a few more times so that there is no remaining loose flour.

Divide the dough in half, and form each half into a round ball. Roll or flatten each ball to a disk about 7 inches in diameter, about 1/2-inch thick. Use a bench cutter or a sharp knife to cut each disk into 6 approximately equal triangles. Place each piece on a parchment-lined baking sheet spaced about 2 inches apart.

Make an egg wash by whisking together 1 egg, 1 egg yolk, and 1 tbsp of water. Brush the top of each scone with the egg wash.

Bake for 18 minutes, until lightly golden brown.

Not Yet, Spring!

Usually at the end of February I am so over dark morning commutes and pre-dinner sunsets. Over careful steps in my arctic grip shoes, and the windshield brush that lives in my backseat. Over nights on the couch with droopy eyelids before finishing a single episode. Typically around this time of year I fantasize about standing in my driveway with my face towards the sun taking in an abundance of vitamin D. Or an ambitious long run through puddles across town. The first burgers I’ll grill when we wheel the Weber out of the garage.

But this year I’ve been too distracted to be annoyed. Our plan was to focus on housework after the holiday season, and so we spent our weekends in January moving every book, frame, bottle of wine, sock, etc. to our basement. We moved out on January 26th when a crew of five arrived to paint every room, ceiling, door, and trim piece. A week later we started The Great Carpet Search 2021, a month-long journey that included multiple trips to five local flooring retailers and daily plans to “look at carpet.” In two weeks they’ll come to install our selection.

Meanwhile, the dresser was delivered. I helped Jeff push it up the stairs and declared it “the last heavy thing I’m moving.” A week later came the crib, which he carried up, piece by piece, solo. I bought curtains, returned curtains, bought curtains, hung curtains, and started a craft to customize said curtains with fabric glue and lavender pom pom fringe. There’s new art and a mattress en route. And 25 Ikea boxes in our basement holding the deconstructed contents of our final nesting project, our future master closet system.

So, no, the snow hasn’t bothered me. I’ve been busy enough inside. This past weekend, though, it lulled me out. After a week of near-daily snowfall it was perfect — in both quantity and quality — for two afternoon snowshoe adventures at the local state park. So perfect that we were inspired to book the babymoon we never thought we’d take. The only problem is that the sun has been wonderful this week, of the head-to-the-sky, outdoor run, grilling-for-dinner variety. But it’d be great if it could hold off for just one more weekend so that we can snowshoe our way through Leelanau County. My snowpants won’t button anyway, so after Monday spring is more than welcome.

Aside from the incredible beef bourguignon Jeff cooked for Valentine’s Day, we’ve barely made a new recipe this winter. There’s been a lot of sweet potato chicken strips, black bean soup, chicken meatballs, and gyros. These homemade veggie burgers have been on repeat as well. Though they do require some advanced planning — the recipe requires cooked and cooled sweet potatoes, mushrooms, and brown rice — it’s worth it. They’re nutritious, delicious, and (at least for now) repetitious. Coming up soon, a test to see if they freeze better (or at all) when cooked or raw. It’s almost time to stock our freezer for those newborn months! A task I am very much looking forward to!

BLACK BEAN VEGGIE BURGERS, inspired by Sara Forte, via Cup of Jo

You’ll need:
8 oz of mushrooms, chopped, sautéed, and cooled*
1 small sweet potato, steamed and cooled**
1 cup cooked brown rice, or another grain***
1 egg
1 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp flaxseed meal
1/4 cup oats
1 tsp chili powder or another spice blend (we are currently obsessed with Back of the Yards Butcher’s Rub from the Spice House in Chicago, thanks to our sister and brother-in-law!)
1 cup parsley (or another herb or green)
1 cup cooked black beans, rinsed and drained (I just used canned)
Salt
For serving (optional): toasted buns, muenster cheese, lettuce, spicy mayo, etc.

*Clean and chop an 8 oz package of mushrooms. Sauté in about 1 tbsp of olive oil. Add garlic or shallot if you’d like. Let cool. (I always do so in the refrigerator overnight.)

**Steam sweet potato in a steaming basket set in a large pot over simmering water, until cooked through. Depending on the size this should take 45 minutes to an hour. Let cool. (I always do so in the refrigerator overnight.)

***I’m a big fan of microwave rice for this purpose, though I’ve also used leftover quinoa, and you could certainly cook a new batch of any grain on the stovetop. Let cool. (I always do so in the refrigerator overnight.)

Heat oven to 425.

Combine the rice, egg, soy sauce, flaxseed meal, oats, chili powder, and parsley in a food processor. Pulse a few times to break down. Scoop the flesh from the sweet potato and add to the bowl. Add the mushrooms and black beans. Pulse for another minute until roughly combined, but not completely puréed. Set the mixture in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes (or overnight).

Line a sheet tray with foil and brush with a thin layer of oil (I’ve used olive oil, coconut oil, or cooking spray). Form the mixture into 5 patties. To do so, I use a large scoop to mound them onto the tray, then gently shape and flatten them with my hands. Spray or brush the tops with a bit more oil. Bake for 20-25 minutes until set.

Assemble your burgers as you’d like.

Just Slice Some Tomato and Onion, and Quit Complaining

Growing up our family’s lunch spot was a small, Coney Island-style diner called Holiday Grill. We visited nearly every weekend, in between gymnastics and basketball practices and endless afternoons of reading and Skip-Bo and listening to Dave Matthews cds on my discman in our backyard. As we walked to the hostess stand our eyes would dart to the right to check the availability of the front corner booth that best fit our family of five, hoping to find it empty, or at least the patrons’ plates empty and a check topped with a pile of cash. Worst case scenario there was the identical booth in the back corner, the smoking section.

My sister exclusively ordered the chicken strips with ranch dressing, my mom the house specialty Holiday Grill Salad, an over-the-top Greek salad that included grilled chicken, hard-boiled eggs, beets, pepperoncini, and green pepper. My dad and brother were more likely to switch it up, but oftentimes ordered the classic Coney Island dish for which these restaurants are named, a hot dog topped with mustard, onions, and chili. My usual order was a tuna sandwich on toasted wheat, but sometimes I would have a chicken gyro. In fact, if I were to go there today, the latter would be my order. It was perfect, everything a gyro sandwich should be, toasted pita topped with so much tzatziki, raw tomatoes and onion, and thinly sliced, marinated, grilled chicken that it’s best eaten with a fork and knife.

Lately I’ve been on an unplanned chicken gyro tour of Novi, Michigan. It started at Big Tommy’s Parthenon a few weeks ago, when I innocently placed our regular order — chicken gyro for me, lamb sliders for Jeff, a side of rosa marina (also known as orzo in tomato sauce). Rather than just be satisfied in the knowledge that we will certainly order this exact dinner again in a few months time, it has morphed into a laser-like focus for me towards every other carryout menu I’ve browsed recently. (Some might call this a pregnancy craving, though it makes no comparison to the two-week Pulled Pork Sandwich Quest of mid-December). This has led to a chicken gyro from other local restaurant #1, a chicken gyro from other local restaurant #2, both unnamed because I would consider each option more of a standard chicken wrap. (If there’s no tzatziki, or even a version of yogurt sauce, I don’t think you should use the name.)

So it’s no surprise that I was drawn to the Chicken Flatbread dish from Healthyish during last week’s browse of my favorite, underused cookbooks. What is surprising is how much I loved it. Though the recipe indeed calls for tzatziki, it lacks tomato and onion and adds chickpeas and arugula. It’s not a traditional chicken gyro, more of a mediterranean-style, pizza-like sandwich. But for a homemade option that’s easily adaptable (like, just slice some tomato and onion, Jess, and quit your complaining), I’m calling it close enough.

CHICKEN AND CHICKPEA FLATBREADS, adapted from Healthyish by Lindsay Maitland Hunt

You’ll need:
1 lb boneless, skinless chicken thighs
1 can chickpeas, rinsed and drained
1 tbsp + 2 tsp olive oil
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp coriander
4 pitas (a thick variety, not the super thin ones)
2 cups arugula
Salt and Pepper
Cucumber Dill Tzatziki (recipe follows)

Heat oven to 425.

Place chicken and chickpeas on a rimmed baking sheet. Drizzle with 1 tbsp olive oil.  Sprinkle with the cumin, coriander, 1 tsp salt, and 1 tsp pepper. Use your hands to spread the oil and spices all over both sides of the chicken and the chickpeas. Arrange everything in a single layer and bake in the oven until chicken is cooked through (to a temperature of 165) and chickpeas are slightly crispy.

Let sit for about 5 minutes, then transfer chicken to a bowl and use two forks to tear the thighs into bit-sized pieces. Transfer the chickpeas to a separate bowl, add the remaining 2 tsp of olive oil, and slightly mash with a fork or potato masher.

Lightly brush the pitas with olive oil and toast both sides on a griddle pan on the stovetop. (If your aunt and uncle call via FaceTime at this exact moment, just try not to burn them too much.)

To serve, top each pita with the tzatziki, arugula, chicken, and chickpeas.

CUCUMBER DILL TZATZIKI, adapted from Healthyish by Lindsay Maitland Hunt

You’ll need:
3 persian cucumbers, cut into small dice
1 cup Greek yogurt (I like Fage 2%)
1/4 cup lemon juice (from about 1 large lemon)
1/4 cup chopped, fresh dill
1 tsp salt
1 tsp pepper

Stir together all ingredients in a bowl. Serve immediately or refrigerate before use.

Winter Baked Pasta

A week before Christmas break, when that time still seemed infinite, I made a list of the things I wanted to cook and bake during my eleven days off. Included were Molly Yeh’s pork soup dumplings, a Danish kringle, “something beefy with a side of grits,” braised short ribs or braised brisket or both (which was a line item separate from the “something beefy”), and Ina Garten’s Crusty Baked Shells & Cauliflower. I should have titled it Comfort Christmas.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, after an early doctor’s appointment and before heading to a socially distant, masked-wearing family gift exchange, I rolled out the rough puff pastry dough I had mixed and folded earlier in the week. Danish kringle is a pastry special to Jeff’s family, as his Wisconsin-born grandmother would frequently order and share a variety of kringle flavors around the holidays. When I came across a homemade version in Shauna Sever’s Midwest Made, I knew I had to try. It would be breakfast for me and Jeff on Christmas morning, and some pieces would later be delivered to grandma.

I made an almond and a raspberry version, and both were quite tasty enough to call the experiment a success. Though, in my never ending quest for pastry perfection I’d like to try rolling rough puff again, and shaping the oval kringles, as well as baking them to the ideal shade of gold, and working on the thickness of the icing. Perhaps next Christmas!

Later that week I got to sleeping in and completing 1000-piece puzzles and binge-watching The Queen’s Gambit. Jeff and I started eating “linners” at 3pm to cover all meals for the day. I checked my list and realized I’d made nothing else I’d planned, and I wasn’t even mad about it. Plus, the meat craving had been satisfied by our Zingerman’s Roadhouse carryout Christmas dinner of short ribs bourguignon, grits, and macaroni and cheese. But, I had bought all of the ingredients for Ina’s baked shells, and by mid-break I wanted to revisit my kitchen.

Our Spring Baked Pasta was one of my favorite meals of 2020, and I didn’t know I also needed a version for winter until I tried this cauliflower option. Lots of little hits of flavor — from the browned cauliflower, fontina cheese, sage, capers, red pepper flakes, and lemon zest — add up to one big punch of a dish. I happened to read some of the online reviews of this dish, and many people thought it was too dry. It was a little dry, but that’s why it’s called crusty baked shells. I personally loved the texture as is, I love that baking a small noodle leaves it a little brown and toasty, and I’ll save any desire for a cheese and sauce loaded pasta for my next plate of lasagna.

CRUSTY BAKED SHELLS AND CAULIFLOWER, slightly adapted from Ina Garten

You’ll need:
3/4 lb medium shells
2-1/2 lb cauliflower, cut into small florets (about 1 large head)
3 tbsp roughly chopped fresh sage leaves (though I used about 1 tsp dried sage)
2 tbsp capers, drained
1/2 tsp grated lemon zest
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
2 cups grated Fontina cheese
1 cup fresh ricotta
1/2 cup panko
6 tbsp grated Pecorino cheese (or Parmesan)
2 tbsp minced fresh parsley leaves
Olive oil
Salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 400.

Cook pasta al dente according to package instructions. Do not overcook it, as it will be baked later. Drain and pour into a large bowl.

Meanwhile, heat 3 tbsp of olive oil in a large skillet. Add half of the cauliflower in a single layer and cook until tender and browned in some spots, about 5 minutes. Add to the bowl with the pasta. Repeat with the second half of the cauliflower.

Add the sage, lemon zest, red pepper flakes, 2 tsp salt, and 1 tsp black pepper to the bowl and stir to combine. Add the Fontina and stir to combine.

Pour half of the pasta mixture into a large rectangular baking dish. Scoop rounded spoonfuls of the fresh ricotta across the pasta. Add the remaining pasta mixture on top.

In a small bowl combine the panko, Pecorino, parsley, and 1 tbsp of olive oil. Sprinkle evenly across the top of the pasta dish.

Baked for 25 to 30 minutes, until brown and crusty on top.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I like to think about the decoration committee at my college dining hall, which I imagine was a subset of the staff of mostly older women who seemed to get a real kick out of spending their days with 18-22 year-old students. They went all-out for us with holiday décor, from hanging hearts in all shades of pink and red, to Christmas trees at every doorway, piñatas around Cinco de Mayo, and enough pumpkins in fall to fill a small roadside farm stand. It seemed to bring them so much joy to see our reactions to their creativity.

One November afternoon my friends and I claimed a table, gathered our lunch, and caught up on our days as some read the student paper and others finished homework. It was a completely unremarkable lunch until one of my roommates said she wanted to bake a pumpkin pie.

Really? How?

Our dining hall was spectacular — in both décor and the variety of food offerings — because our dorm rooms most certainly were not. At this point we were three to a room with just enough space for a lofted bed each, a metal futon, and a sink in the corner. The kitchen was in the basement next to the coin laundry and shared by the entire dorm. It had a stove and refrigerator that appeared to have last been used in 1976.

The grocery offerings at the on-campus store included a wall of microwaveable meals opposite a wall of bulk candy bins. In the center were band-aids and toothpaste and other basic toiletries. Acquiring flour, butter, and vanilla extract would require a walk to the student parking lot at the far edge of campus and the coordination of the schedules of four friends — equal to the number of extra seats in my car — who were eager to get off campus to stock up on their preferred brand of shampoo.

Bake a pie? It didn’t seem worth the effort.

Well, for starters, we could take one of those pumpkins, she said, gesturing towards the seasonal display of pumpkins on bales of hay alongside a cornucopia and a scarecrow.

Hmm. Well that sounded more like an adventure than a chore, and soon our attention was diverted completely from schoolwork and campus news to planning the great pumpkin escape of 2003. Emily, who had the idea, would carry the pumpkin. We would all leave the dining hall as a group, surrounding her as best we could. We would exit the center door, which was rarely used, and then hightail it to our dorm just across the sidewalk. We needed to be quick and efficient in our movement, and — most importantly — act natural, be cool. This was stealing after all.

Could everybody meet Thursday after class for a trip to the grocery store?

Who wants to reserve the kitchen space?

What do we need to buy? Has anybody actually done this before?

Later that week the prep work was complete and we met in the basement to commence the operating mission. But first, after scooping out the seeds, a few of us had to try the pumpkin on our heads, á la Joey Tribbiani wearing a raw turkey in the Friends Thanksgiving special. Then we roasted and somehow puréed it (I think possibly with the dorm’s blender), added milk, eggs, and pumpkin pie spice, and poured the mixture into our store-bought pie crust. While it baked, it was nice to sit around a table with friends and bask in the aroma of something homemade. I’m calling it The First Friendsgiving.

In the end the pie was not as we remembered it from our moms’ tables back home. The color was more yellow than orange, and the texture a bit stringy. We each had a few bites and laughed about it. But it sure was memorable!

These days pie is one of my favorite things to bake. I love sinking my hands into butter and flour. I love the urgency to keep the dough cold. I love writing a schedule and planning rest periods that will ensure crust success. I love the instinctual nature of pie, that it is the type of thing you have to do often to do well. And I love the infinite possibility of filling. The entire process is just plain fun!

Last night I finished a crumble-topped apple pie, as requested by my parents for Thanksgiving. Taking inspiration from Erin Jeanne McDowell’s incredible new The Book on Pie, I used her flaky all butter crust in combination with her pre-cooked apple filling and all purpose streusel.

I’m sad to part with it, but the consolation is the second apple pie I’m baking this year, just for me and Jeff. Over the weekend I made a version of the butter-gouda pie dough from Lisa Ludwinski of Sister Pie, inspired by her Apple Sage Gouda Pie, which I made for Thanksgiving last year and absolutely loved.  I’ve always wanted to try the classic combo of cheddar with apple pie, so perhaps I am trying to fix what is not broken, but I swapped cheddar for the gouda this year.

The pie is in line to be baked later today, just as soon as I finish the homemade Chex mix. It’s not Thanksgiving (or Christmas) in my house without this all-day appetizer. My mom made it every year — the classic recipe from the back of the box — and the smell and taste is pure nostalgia. It’s also pure deliciousness. Toasted snack mix soaked in butter, Worcestershire sauce, and seasoned salt — what a treat!

CLASSIC CHEX MIX

You’ll need:
3 cups rice Chex cereal
3 cups corn Chex cereal
3 cups wheat Chex cereal
1 cup mixed nuts (I like mostly cashews with a little bit of pecans)
1 cup pretzel twists
1 cup bagel chips, broken into 1-inch size pieces
6 tbsp butter, melted
2 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
1-1/2 tsp seasoned salt (preferably Lawry’s)
3/4 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp onion powder

Heat oven to 250. In a large bowl mix together the cereals, nuts, pretzels, and bagel chips. In a medium bowl whisk together the butter, Worcestershire sauce, seasoned salt, garlic powder, and onion powder. Pour the butter mixture over the cereal mixture and stir until evenly coated. Pour onto 2 ungreased baking sheets. Bake for 1 hour, stirring every 15 minutes.

A Superyacht Favorite

In spring, when live sports were cancelled and most shows ceased production, we started to watch the next best thing: the backlog of reality television. Specifically Below Deck Mediterranean, a show ostensibly about the superyacht lifestyle, though essentially an unscripted soap opera.

At least we can learn something, I justified — the definition of first mate and bosun and galley, the variety of day shapes and their meaning. Unfortunately that education also required that we witness the mega-wealthy complain about gumball flavors, chefs freak out about oysters and nachos and a single cucumber, and an extremely drunk Johnny Damon, who graced his presence on the show twice.

We also noticed the bartenders, at the request of the charter guests, mixing a lot of espresso martinis. Another espresso martini?! Do people drink these?! What is it?!

Last Friday I drove through the Starbucks line on the way home from work, while Jeff made a simple syrup and gathered the vodka and Kahlúa back home. It was happy hour when the shot of espresso cooled to room temperature, and the bartender (Jeff) began to measure and shake while I pulled the martini glasses from their basement storage. After cheers and a clink we sipped what has become our new favorite cocktail… or at least the cocktail we enjoy together, as Jeff does not drink margaritas or cosmopolitans.

I expected to be overwhelmed by the flavor of coffee, but instead I found the drink to be quite balanced. As Jeff commented, you can taste all parts of it — the coffee, the liqueur, the sweetness. He then joked about bringing some to tennis the following morning, and while I don’t think this is actually a brunch cocktail, it’s perfect for switching up happy hour. Or enjoying on continuous loop on a superyacht, apparently.

Then Jeff made an heirloom tomato and burrata salad, followed by filet on our grill, for an A+ Friday.

ESPRESSO MARTINI

You’ll need:
2 oz vodka
1/2 oz simple syrup
1/2 oz Kahlúa (or other coffee liqueur)
1 oz freshly brewed espresso, cooled to room temperature
(I measure all ingredients using my 1-1/2 oz shot glass as a guide.)

Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker with ice. Cover and shake for 20-30 seconds. Strain into a martini glass with ice. (This yields one cocktail, though we tend to split it.)

Molly Stevens' Perfect Summer Penne

Leave it to Molly Stevens to present the simplest pasta with the most delicious result. On Saturday I set out to use the last of our late summer CSA produce in her Penne with Roasted Summer Squash, Burst Cherry Tomatoes, and Feta, from All About Dinner. I assumed I would sauté the vegetables while the pasta cooked, then toss it all and be done. But of course Molly’s recipe was far more specific than that, and since she’s never led me astray I followed her instructions exactly as written.

I had never prepared zucchini by roasting it, but that’s where this recipe starts. Tomatoes are added thirty minutes later, and cooked until they burst. It certainly would have been faster — but inferior — to sauté the vegetables. In the oven the zucchini (and an onion) shrivel in a good way to concentrate their flavor and caramelize. The tomatoes literally explode with sweetness, and as Molly says, “You end up with a gorgeous bowl of pasta featuring a range of textures and tastes that’s as at home at a casual outdoor dinner party as it is in a more elegant setting.” Jeff and I ate this on the couch in front of a replay of the Tour de France, but we may have been at a picnic on the Amalfi coast. I can’t wait to make this again.

PENNE WITH ROASTED ZUCCHINI AND TOMATOES, inspired by Molly Stevens

You’ll need:
1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
3 tbsp olive oil, divided
1-1/2 to 2 lb zucchini (or assorted summer squash)
1 medium yellow onion
1/4 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
4 to 8 oz penne pasta (depending on your preference)
1/2 cup feta cheese
2 tbsp chopped basil (or another herb)
Salt and pepper

Heat oven to 375 convection, 400 non-convection.  (I love that Molly specifies the difference.)

Combine the tomatoes, garlic, 1 tsp olive oil, and a pinch of salt in a small bowl and set aside.

Chop the zucchini into about 3/4-inch cubes. Cut the onion into about 1/3-inch thick slices. Pile all onto a baking sheet lined with foil, and toss with 2 tbsp olive oil, red pepper flakes, and salt and pepper. Roast for 25 minutes, stirring the vegetables midway through. Then, scatter the tomato mixture over the squash and return to the oven. Roast until the tomatoes burst, approximately 15 minutes, again stirring the vegetables midway through.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil, and cook pasta according to package instructions. Drain, making sure to reserve about 1/2 cup of pasta water.

In a large bowl combine the pasta, roasted vegetables, remaining 2 tsp olive oil, feta, and chopped basil. Toss and season with salt and pepper. The vegetables should provide moisture, but if the dish seems dry add just a bit of the reserved pasta water. Serve warm or at room temperature.

The Plum Cake Dance

What can I say about Marian Burros’ famous Purple Plum Torte — the one that ran in the New York Times every September from 1983 to 1989, the one that was brought back a few years later after the Times received angry letters regarding its absence — that hasn’t already been said? Almost all of my favorite food blogs have written about this cake.

Says Amelia: “It’s just so simple to make, and then it ends up tasting like something you might get at a Michelin-starred restaurant.”

And Tim: “It could not be easier, and the results could not be more impressive. It looks like something you’d find in a rustic French bakery, and tastes even better.”

Deb explains how a surprisingly thin and dense layer of batter, topped with more plum halves than you think will fit, works its magic: “the cake rises up around them and buckles them in, leaving the cake riddled with deep pockets of jammy plum puddles that impart a sweet-sour complexity to an otherwise simple butter cake base.”

Molly wrote about it. Luisa wrote about it.

Merrill calls it “iconic,” and it is. Because the first time I made this torte it inspired dance moves in my husband. Now when we are excited (about anything) we jump around in circles, hands in the air, and call it “the plum cake dance.” It’s our own dance of the sugar plum fairy.

Since the day of the dance this cake has been an annual occasion. I made it last weekend, and there are still half a dozen plums on my counter that I see no purpose for other than another bake. It really is perfect. In delightful opposition to today’s scientific baking, the recipe is written to be rustic, calling for your preference of sugar, lemon juice, and cinnamon. The batter takes all of five minutes to mix, and after an hour leaves you with a deliciously toasty cake with pockets of sweet, warm fruit. Top a slice with a scoop of vanilla, or save it for the following day (nearly impossible to do), when the plum juices have seeped and softened the cake to an irresistible, bread pudding-like treat. How easy is that!

PLUM CAKE, from Marian Burros

You’ll need:
3/4 cup sugar
1/2 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
2 eggs
12 Italian prune plums, halved and pitted (though I often buy whatever types of plums are available locally, which seem to be larger, and only necessitate 6-8)
Sugar, for topping
Lemon juice, for topping
Cinnamon, for topping

Heat oven to 350. Prepare a 9-inch springform pan (or something similar) by spraying and/or lining with parchment.

Cream the butter and sugar in a bowl (I used a hand mixer). Add the flour, baking powder, salt, and eggs, and beat until just combined. Spread the batter (it will be thick!) into the bottom of the prepared pan. Arrange the plum halves skin side up across the top, covering as much surface area as you can. Sprinkle with sugar, a squeeze of lemon juice, and cinnamon to your liking.

Bake for approximately 1 hour.

Hey! Can I eat this?

It was Mother’s Day 2020 the first time I made Rose Levy Berenbaum’s famous Downy Yellow Cake, and I toyed with the idea of mini cakes for the moms. My vision was to bake a sheet cake, then use a biscuit cutter to shape out small rounds, which I would then fill and ice as a normal cake. The end result would be tall, thin, single-serving cakes, each slightly larger than a cupcake and just a bit more elegant. As I baked, Jeff worked in the yard to dig out a plot along the side of the house for a vegetable garden.

I was obsessed with the idea of non-citrus curds at the time, so I made both a rhubarb curd and a lemon curd (as sort of a scientific control), and a vanilla meringue icing to finish the cakes. All the while Jeff dug.

By late afternoon, with the curds chilling, the meringue whipped, and the cake rounds cut, I moved to the couch for break time. The cake scraps were on the counter. No sooner had I clicked on an old episode of Barefoot Contessa than I heard Jeff come in through the back door on the other side of the house, followed by his footsteps in the kitchen and one single loud question: Hey! Can I eat this?

It could have been a scene out of the 90s sitcom Home Improvement. Woman spends day in kitchen. Man spends day outside with tools. Man comes back inside hungry and shouting. We laugh about the incident to this day, and I have approval to state publicly that Jeff ate “six small pieces of cake scraps.”

The garden plan was scrapped a few weeks later when we prioritized the removal of our rotting deck and patio before more cosmetic backyard improvements. So Jeff later filled the dirt back in, then seeded, fertilized, and watered to grow grass. He absolutely deserved the cake scraps.

A few months later my dad invited me to dinner for my mom’s birthday with the message, “I heard a rumor you were baking a cake.” As per recent tradition (as in I did this once, for my sister’s birthday) I asked my mom for a list of flavor likes and dislikes to inspire a creative cake specifically for her. Her text came in:

I like white and yellow. I don’t like lemon. Or chocolate. Do not like that hard frosting fondant that’s what it’s called I like mint or cinnamon or some fruits in cakes don’t like coconut does this help.

Rose’s Downy Yellow Cake would again be the starting point, this time baked into standard 8-inch round layers. I know my mom loves cream cheese frosting (though she didn’t mention it) and I had been questioning why this particular icing is reserved just for carrot, red velvet, and sometimes chocolate cakes. In the center would be fresh berries, and in a contradictory move I chose to also add a layer of cocoa whipped cream alongside the fruit. Though chocolate was a “dislike,” my mom had also recently said she wanted to try my version. I believe whipped cream should accompany more cakes, so on top would be vanilla whipped cream and more berries.

It was a hit, and now I’m done with family birthdays until my own next year. But that hasn’t stopped the baking. Last week’s Jess Day afforded me the opportunity to try a cake that had long been on my list. This recipe — for almond cake — comes via Molly Wizenberg via Spilled Milk podcast via Amanda Hesser via her mother-in-law via Hesser’s book, Cooking for Mr. Latte.

The cake, which includes an entire package of almond paste and a hefty pour of almond extract, is deeply flavorful — decadent, dense, and packing an elegantly European almond punch. The center deflates a bit after it bakes, and I love that in a rustic cake, how the crusty edges contrast with the soft and delicate center. It also provides the perfect cavity in which to spoon a layer of cherry preserves and whipped cream — in fact, that just might be my birthday cake come January.

If I had one smidge of a critique I think I might try to hold back just a tablespoon of butter next time, as it was possibly too moist. That being said, on days two and three, when it had dried just slightly, it was perfection. It’s the wonderful sort of cake that ages well, which is not to say that it will last. Jeff has already ranked this his favorite cake — above the orange almond cake, above the cookie cake, above the famous plum torte from Marion Burros, which inspired dance moves in him. I expect the request for a second bake to come in soon.

ALMOND CAKE, from Amanda Hesser

You’ll need:
2 sticks of unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup of sour cream, room temperature
1 tsp baking soda
2 cups AP flour
1/2 tsp salt
1-1/2 cups sugar
7oz almond paste (I could only find an 8oz box, so I cut off a corner of it)
4 egg yolks, room temperature
1 tsp almond extract

Heat oven to 350. Prepare a 9-inch springform pan by spraying the bottom and sides with cooking spray, lining the bottom with parchment, then spraying again.

In a small bow, mix together the sour cream and baking soda. In another bowl, whisk together the flour and salt. Set both bowls aside.

Use a stand mixer with the paddle attachment on medium speed to beat the butter and sugar until fluffy. Turn off the machine and scrape down the sides of the bowl if necessary. Back on medium speed, add the almond paste slowly, breaking apart and dropping in a few pieces at a time. Continue to beat on medium speed for 8 minutes, stopping occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl if necessary, until the mixture is very light and fluffy. Beat in the egg yolks one at a time until incorporated. Beat in the sour cream mixture until incorporated. Turn the speed to low and gradually add the flour mixture, and beat until just combined. Turn off the machine and use a spatula to gently fold the batter a few times to ensure an even mix, but do not overmix.

Pour the batter into the prepared springform pan and spread evenly with a spatula. Bake for about 1 hour (for me, exactly 1 hour was perfect), then cool the cake directly in the pan set on a wire rack.

Jess Day

On Jess Day 2019 I took a morning drive on country roads, singing along to Taylor Swift’s just-released Lover, until I reached my first stop at a breakfast spot in Ann Arbor. After a smoothie bowl — my first ever — I walked and shopped downtown, spending extra time in the cookbook section of my favorite bookstore.

Lunch was a BLT at a wine-shop-turned-café with big tables fit for spreading and working. I read a chapter of Fleishman is in Trouble, worked on an essay, and eavesdropped on a homeowner’s meeting with her architect. Then I was on to my favorite produce market / flower shop, which is next door to a butcher / microbrewery, where I sipped a cider in the sunshine and read another chapter.

My last stop was the bakery where I used to work. I planned to pick up my favorite breads and cookies and say hi to my best friend. I was not expecting to run into my mom and her best friend in town from Texas, but in a marvelous expression of the magic of Jess Day that’s exactly what happened.

Back home Jeff and I hopped on our bikes and rode to the park where we got engaged, then circled the streets before claiming the best outdoor table at our summertime spot. Two burgers and four beers later it was pitch black, and we carefully biked home while discussing the lights we would order for our handlebars tomorrow.

Jess Day 2020 was a little different. It again started with a Folklore drive to Ann Arbor, then I ordered a sandwich from my car parked outside my favorite delicatessen, and went for a walk when I was told I could not enter until my order was certainly ready. Once seated I tried to read the paper over lunch, but I only got halfway through due to the buzzing bees and eyes on just me at the limited, oversized picnic table. The bookstore was closed, but I stopped at the seafood market before heading home to my couch and the latest episode of Amy Schumer Learns to Cook. I later ran to Kroger for almond paste so I could bake an almond cake on a whim, then Jeff and I warmed the crab cakes I brought back from the market, and that was my day. Different, but no complaints!

Here’s an idea. When you can’t get to the spa, or even the sauna at the gym, grill salmon. Specifically on cedar planks, and let the aroma transport you to a space calmer than 2020. Share a bottle of Grüner with your companion for just about the nicest Friday available.

We did just this the day after Jess Day 2020, with fresh Atlantic salmon from that special seafood market slightly out of town. Since quarantine we have not been able to get our preferred salmon locally, and I wouldn’t recommend this simple preparation with subpar salmon, which I think is fine to eat, but tends to be a little tougher (instead, make fish sticks).  With quality salmon, truly olive oil, salt, and pepper is enough — it will be melt-in-your-mouth delicious!

CEDAR PLANK SALMON

You’ll need:
2 cedar planks (available at many places, ours are from Sur La Table)
1 lb quality, skin-on salmon filet, cut into 2 pieces
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper

Soak the cedar planks in water for 1-2 hours prior to grilling. Alternatively, use another liquid such as wine or cider (which I have yet to try, but sounds exciting!).

Heat the grill to indirect medium-high heat, about 425. To do this on our gas grill we turn the left and right flames on, and leave the center flame off.

Remove the cedar planks from the water and lightly pat dry with a towel. Add just the planks to the grill in indirect heat (in our case, the center of the grill). Close the lid and let sit for about 2 minutes to lightly char, then flip the planks and repeat on the other side.

Meanwhile, prepare the salmon. Lightly pat the filets with a paper towel, then drizzle a bit of olive oil over the flesh, and season with salt and pepper.

Transfer the salmon skin side down to the planks, and close the lid. Cook until the salmon is pink through the center, about 12-15 minutes depending on the thickness of the filets and how much heat escapes during the transfer.

Remove the planks with the salmon from the grill, and transfer to a heatproof surface. Use a fish spatula to separate the salmon from the skin. It should slide easily, and the skin should stick to the board.

If the boards are intact they can be rinsed (without soap) and reused, though the cedar essence may be lessened.

Ice Cream Strategy

One Sunday evening a couple of summers ago, Jeff and I decided to cap off our weekend with a walk to our favorite ice cream shop, a break at their picnic tables for dessert, then another walk home. We would probably chart five miles, but exercise wasn’t the point. It was a nice evening, so why not?

This particular shop is a small, independently owned business, the sort that can close for a day without too much concern for hitting a sales goal. As such, we approached that evening to find a handwritten sign on the door: “Closed! See you tomorrow!” All we could do was laugh and point our sneakers in the direction of the next closest ice cream shop, which would route us back towards our apartment and then another mile sideways. According to the internet, which we consulted this time, Guernsey Farms Dairy closed in 45 minutes. If we booked it, we would make it.

We arrived, our legs fatigued and slightly out of breath, with a minute to spare, and walked straight to the counter. There were quite a few other customers, and we all crowded the front in search of an available high school student to scoop our order. We selected our flavors, paid, and marveled at our victory, then overheard the cashier say to another staff member, “Why is everyone acting like we’re closing? We have another hour.”

That gave us another reason to laugh as we made the final trek home, this time with cookies and cream in my hands, cookie dough in Jeff’s, and blisters starting to form on our feet. At upwards of seven miles, we’d never deserved ice cream so much.

Our ice cream trips this summer have been equally adventurous. Unfortunately, early this season our original favorite shop served us moldy mix-ins, and we briefly traded allegiance to the corporate chain. Then we learned another local shop served a flavor with the same name as Jeff’s parents’ dog — Tucker! — and we had to try it. Strategically, Brown Dog Creamery is a good choice for this socially distanced summer, as the spot is also a restaurant and therefore the ice cream line tends to be a bit shorter. Every time we drive by Guernsey, on the other hand, the line is out the door. We’ve driven through the parking lot countless times before changing our mind and heading to the corporate chain. Finally this past Sunday we decided: ok, we’re going to Guernsey, but let’s go at like 6:30, surely we’ll beat the crowds.

Well, I regret it. There was no line out the door, but that’s because everyone was jammed inside. In my haste to make a decision and get the heck out of there I copied off of the man in front of me and ordered a scoop of key lime pie ice cream. At a dairy farm I would recommend trying a flavor that highlights its specialty, the dairy. That’s why cookies and cream and cookie dough are spectacular choices. Key limes are tart and bright and sour, all of which clash with the cream, and I was further disappointed by the minimal amount of graham cracker crumbs mixed in. We’ll be back, but not until covid passes.

What I have not been disappointed by, however, is Jeff’s dessert of the summer, key lime bars. He’s made them twice — on the 4th of July and again for our family vacation meal — using Samantha Seneviratne’s recipe from the New York Times (I happened to discover her beautiful cookbook, The Joys of Baking, this summer as well).  In addition to being a lovely expression of key lime’s potential, they’re an excuse to buy Nilla Wafers — irresistible!

KEY LIME BARS, from Samantha Seneviratne

You’ll need:
1 box (11oz) Nilla Wafers
2 tbsp granulated sugar
1 stick of unsalted butter, melted
5 egg yolks
1 can (1-3/4 cup) sweetened condensed milk
3/4 cup key lime juice (either fresh squeezed or from a bottle; regular limes also work)
1 tsp lime zest
1 cup heavy cream
1 tbsp powdered sugar

Heat oven to 350. Line a 9x9 square baking dish with parchment, allowing the paper to drape over the sides for easy removal later.

Add the Nilla Wafers and granulated sugar to the bowl of a food processor, and pulse until crumbs. Add the melted butter, and pulse to bring everything together. Pour the mixture into the baking pan and use a spatula and/or your hands to gently press into an even layer on the bottom. Bake for 15 minutes, then remove from the oven.

Meanwhile, whisk together the egg yolks, sweetened condensed milk, key lime juice, and lime zest.

Pour over the baked crust (it’s ok if it is still warm). Return to the oven and bake for another 15 minutes, until the center is set. Remove from the oven and let cool completely. Chill in the refrigerator for at least 4 hours.

Remove the baked dish from the pan before finishing the top layer. To do so, run a knife or thin spatula along the sides of the dish, the pull up on the exposed parchment and carefully transfer to a cutting board.

Use a hand mixer to whip the cream and powdered sugar together until it forms medium peaks. Spread over the top of the dish in pretty, imperfect swoops. Cut into 9 large or 16 medium squares.

et Voilà

If you enjoy cooking — as in the physical act of cleaning, sorting, and chopping vegetables, standing over a stove and stirring, seasoning, monitoring heat — then ratatouille is for you. It’s also for those who belong to a CSA in Michigan in late August. The eggplant has been bountiful this year!

Ratatouille is a French stew of the summer bounty that traditionally includes eggplant, zucchini, bell pepper, onion, and tomato. Michigan, located on roughly the same latitudinal lines as France, yields the same produce each summer. I like to think I am in the French countryside when I serve myself a small bowl each afternoon, deskside.

There are a million versions of ratatouille, which makes sense given that it is a dish composed of availability. Do you think French grandmothers would worry about the size of the eggplant or the quantity of zucchini? I don’t, and so I don’t either. In years past I’ve tried versions that include grains such as quinoa, that call for roasting the vegetables before adding to the pot, though I never loved the outcome. This year I tried what I think is most traditional, and absolutely my favorite — cooking the vegetables in a Dutch oven on the stovetop, first in batches, then all together with herbs. I leave it to simmer for an hour-and-a-half, which is just enough time to Zoom yoga in the dining room, et Voilà!, dinner is done.

RATATOUILLE

Note: The quantities below are rough estimates. Use what you have, and it will simmer together beautifully.

You’ll need:
1-2 large eggplant
3-4 medium zucchini (or summer squash)
1 medium yellow onion
2 large bell peppers (any color)
3-4 medium tomatoes
Olive oil
Salt
Pepper
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 bay leaf
A few sprigs of thyme
1/4 cup fresh basil or another herb, chopped (optional)

Start by washing, chopping, and separating all of the vegetables. I like a medium chop for everything, but any size is fine. Peel and chop the eggplant and set aside in a bowl. Chop the zucchini and set aside in a separate bowl. Chop the onion and peppers and set aside together in a bowl. Chop the tomatoes and set aside in another bowl.

Heat 2 tbsp of olive oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat. Add the eggplant and season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until starting to brown in spots, about 5-7 minutes. Eggplant is extremely absorbent of olive oil, so add more if the pan is too dry or the eggplant is starting to burn. Return the cooked eggplant back to its bowl and set aside.

Add another 2 tbsp of olive oil to the Dutch oven, then add the zucchini and season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until starting to brown in spots, about 5-7 minutes. Return the cooked zucchini back to its bowl and set aside.

Add another 1 tbsp of olive oil to the Dutch oven, then add the onion and peppers and season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and starting to caramelize, about 10 minutes.

Add the garlic and cook, stirring constantly, until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

Return the eggplant and zucchini to the pot. Add the tomatoes. Stir to combine. Add the bay leaf and thyme and gently stir again.

Bring to a simmer, then turn heat to low, cover the pot, and simmer for 1-1/2 hours, stirring about every 30 minutes. Remove from heat, remove the bay leaf and sprigs of thyme, and stir in the basil. Let cool just slightly before serving.

A small bowl of ratatouille is the most random, but perfect, afternoon snack. Though it is of course excellent as a full meal, especially when served with a crusty baguette (or, secondarily, over pasta or rice).