The Gourmet Gallerina

2009-03-11T12:12:00.002-05:00

I was kept from my blogging duties because of a business excursion to New York. While I had originally planned to post a delicious find from my trip, I became terrified of all-things-food, due to a nasty bout of food poisoning the night before my return (which was further delayed by a snowstorm). Instead of fond memories of sushi in the East Village and soup in the Park, the entire trip is clouded by one dreadful night of heaving between episodes of When Animals Attack, my face pressed to the hotel room’s bathroom floor. Lesson learned: poached eggs on the island of Manhattan are to be avoided.

With poorly days behind me, I turn this week’s focus to upcoming festivities of the Irish-persuasion. I’m not a huge celebrator of St. Patrick’s Day, as it generally is the first occasion for novice drinkers to shed their Bud-Lite training wheels and spend the morning vomiting Irish car bombs in the street. But as a resident of a city that goes to the lengths of dying its river green, I am compelled to pay a morsel of tribute. Plus the recipe is simple and delicious.

True, traditional Irish Soda Bread limits ingredients to flour, baking soda, buttermilk and salt. The 19^th century innovation of adding baking soda to bread had two major advantages: it did not require kneading—the less you mess with it, the better the texture—and it did not require an oven. You could pour it into your cast-iron pot and set it directly on the coals before going out to lie between sheep and watch leprechauns jump from the Cliffs of Mohr.

This version includes the luxuries of butter, egg, raisins and caraway seeds, which were added by bastardly immigrants upon arriving to America, but make the bread taste just plain delicious. If you’ve never made bread before, this is a good starting point as it involves mixing a few things and tossing them in the oven.

Happy Boozing!

Irish-American Soda Bread

5 cups all purpose flour
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into cubes, room temperature
2 1/2 cups raisins
2 tablespoons caraway seeds
2 1/2 cups milk (more % fat=more % delicious)
3 tbs cider vinegar (this is in lieu of having buttermilk on hand, which normal people never do)
1 large egg

Set the oven to 350ºF

Butter a 10-12 inch skillet (if you have it, cast iron improves the aesthetic) or a deep, round cake pan. Whisk first five ingredients, then rub in the butter (it won’t be dough at this point, just crumbly.) Stir in raisins and caraway seeds. Separate from the flour mix, whisk milk, vinegar, and egg, then incorporate into dough.

Pour dough into skillet, then make a large x over the top with a floured knife (this will help the interior to cook evenly). Bake 1hr15 to 90 minutes, until a tester comes out clean. Cool a few minutes, use a knife to loosen the sides, and transfer to a cooling rack.

Enjoy with butter and wash down with whiskey.

2009-02-26T12:10:00.003-06:00

I'm a bit embarrassed to post desserts two weeks in a row, having professed no serious interest in this category of food. However, when you have promised snacks to a class of feisty improv-ers as a salute to a session well played, cookies and their relatives are the only things that pack up nicely and behave.

Bored of chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin which, if I had made them would have been nothing more than the back of the package, I wanted something more fun and whimsical. A friend recently made Snickerdoodles and I’ve been thinking of them ever since. All I could remember was their role in a period of my childhood when I ate nothing without cinnamon and sugar. At home we had a separate shaker to host these two fine ingredients. Toast was the most common vehicle for enjoyment, but as a seven-year-old I extended the privalege to waffles, untoasted bread (sugar sandwich), and my favorite, a buttered flour tortilla (Mexican sugar sandwich).

This may be a suitable choice when the only thing greater in the world is mixing shampoo bottles in the bath and wearing socks with lace on them, but I like to think my taste and sensibility has matured since that time and I must therefore, confine cinnamon and sugar to the limited scope of the cookie. The Joy of Cooking claims the name “Snickerdoodle” came from a mispronunciation of the German word Schneckennudeln, meaning snail noodles, (does anyone else get an image of a lederhosen-clad Fraulein baking Schneckennudeln in her Bavarian Küche?) German or not these are the finest of all sugar cookies, lightly spiced and doughy with a slightly crunchy exterior.

I accompanied the Snickerdoodles with Coco Choco Clusters to offer the other end of the spectrum in portable desserts. The recipe comes from 101cookbooks, one of my favorite food blogs and is an inviting resource for vegetarians and vegans. The clusters are an absolute cinch with only two necessary ingredients (coconut and chocolate) but a few others that make them delicious (like salt sprinkled on top).

SNICKERDOODLES (makes 18-20)

1 3/4 cup flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp baking soda
generous pinch salt
generous pinch cinnamon
1/2 cup butter
1 cup sugar
1 egg
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

AND

(For the sugar coating)

2 tbs sugar
generous pinch of cinnamon

Combine dry ingredients, set aside. Cream butter and sugar, once fluffy add egg and vanilla, beat until well mixed. Slowly add dry ingredients until combined. After the dough comes together let it “rest” in the fridge for 45-60 minutes.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees F

Remove dough from fridge and form balls of about 1 tbs of dough. Roll the balls in the cinnamon/sugar mix and place on baking sheet. Give each ball of dough a bit of a squish to flatten. Bake 10-12 minutes until slightly cracked, then transfer to cooling rack.

Peanut Butter Brownies

2009-02-18T12:07:00.001-06:00

This weekend I failed to buy the necessary ingredients for the beet risotto I had aspired to replicate from a recent restaurant trip but was itching nevertheless, to muck about in the kitchen.

Stress, listlessness, anxiety, despair, boredom: all treatable with idle time spent amongst ingredients. I find that when other areas of life are less than superb, happiness and passion are only a chop, boil, julienne, sauté or roast away.

Fresh out of delicious cooking ingredients, and devoid of any will to propel me out the door to buy these things, I was left with sad, rejected baking accoutrement and a sprawl of free time. No doubt, the next few hours were more messy experimentation than tidy or gourmet.

But the afternoon produced varying results, some tasty and others questionable, with these chocolate peanut butter brownies taking center stage. Intensely chocolatey but without any cakiness, the peanut butter frosting draws them away from a “death by chocolate” situation to a more well-rounded treat.

I suppose when a cold Hop Devil and a sun drenched patio are not available, the next best combination– chocolate and peanut butter– can offer a suitable substitute.

Yields 9-12.

Brownies

Nonstick vegetable oil spray
3 ounces unsweetened chocolate (baker’s), coarsely chopped
2 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter
3/4 cups sugar
2 large eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/4 cup all purpose flour
pinch salt

Frosting

1/2 cup creamy peanut butter (needs to be full of junky preservatives, like Skippy)
1 1/2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
1/3 cup powdered sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

OR 3/4 cup Nutella

Preheat oven to 350.

Drag out that muffin tin you used last week for baked eggs and lightly spray the muffin cups (12 unless you’re a batter freak in which case, I only made 9). If you’re lacking a handy bottle of “Pam” you can also butter and lightly flour the cups, OR just use paper cupcake liners. In a double boiler (just a glass bowl on top of a saucepan of simmering water– heating the chocolate directly usually burns it,) melt the chocolates and butter gently. Once combined, set aside to cool.

Beat sugar, eggs, and vanilla with a mixer on high for a few minutes until slightly thickened. Slowly mix in flour and once combined, fold in chocolate. Fill muffin cups with about 2 tbs. batter each, until halfway filled. Bake brownies 20-25 minutes or until a toothpick, inserted, comes out clean. Let cool for a few minutes, then gently (avoid a fork) lift brownies out of pan.

While the brownies are baking blend your frosting ingredients together until smooth (or just whip out that jar of nutella). After they have cooled, simply frost the brownies and refrigerate until set (about 20 minutes). If you’re going for fancy, decorate with nuts and a sprinkle of powdered sugar

Fancy Baked Eggs

2009-02-11T12:06:00.000-06:00

Breakfast. Such a lovely, comforting word. A hearty and satisfying conclusion to the night’s hungry tired hours. The promise of energy, and the first sensory indulgence of the day.

People’s breakfast habits tend to say a lot about them. Skipping the meal altogether could, I suppose, simply express a lack of appetite, or the incapacitation of fatigue, or some sort of ill-advised determination to cut calories. The morning person is more invested, with their protein juice smoothies to-go, or egg white omelets (get a job!), or my favorite, the yogurt-berry-granola concoction that so very much pins one into the corner of athleticism and general health consciousness. I, however, am a pillager of all things leftover. I have little interest in sweets, having retired pancakes with whipped cream to the basement of my elapsed youth next to jelly sandals and Fraggle Rock.

Hailed as “the leftover goblin” by someone who has seen my morning antics first-hand, I hanker for the Thai food from last night, maybe spaghetti or chicken cacciatore or, dare I admit it, that spinach dip from last weekend. Protein and a bit of grease, already assembled and begging to be consumed instead of wasted. This is what I can muster after coffee-making strips me of the only energy available on a Tuesday morning. That is, until the weekend.

Saturday morning arrives and I make an about-face, putting forth the effort to get up at a reasonable hour and hit the cutting board with Nina Simone at my side. The result of these mornings is always in egg form. Poached, scrambled, fried, benedicted, omeletted, boiled, or my new favorite—baked—there is no finer food.

Unwhisked baked eggs are similar in consistency to fried eggs, and can be cooked to different degrees of runniness. Particularly practical if you are serving a group, they are all finished cooking at once and retain heat, as they are contained. Ramekins make easy work of baking eggs, but I was turned on to an edible cup and then created a baked egg all-in-one breakfast with potatoes and red pepper. Sliced ham served as the cup of choice but I’ve also seen suggestions of tortilla and pita bread.

To the recipe…

Figure two cups per serving

2 tbs. olive oil

1/4 cup shallots, finely chopped

1/2 red bell pepper, finely chopped

3 or 4 new or red potatoes, finely chopped

salt and pepper

2 tbs. sour cream

fresh tarragon or chives

8 thin slices of ham

8 eggs

Preheat oven to 400F degrees

Heat oil in a pan and sauté shallots, pepper and potato until cooked through, 8-10 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in salt and pepper, sour cream, and 1 tbs fresh chopped herbs.

Lightly oil 8 cups of a full size muffin tin, and fit one slice of ham into the mold. Divide potato-pepper mixture into ham cups, then crack a single egg on top of each cup. Bake 12-15 minutes until egg whites have become opaque but yolk is still runny. Remove gently with two spoons, garnish with fresh herbs, season and enjoy!

CSA: Community Supported Agriculture

2009-01-28T12:04:00.000-06:00

Last week I came home absolutely giddy because I had finally taken the plunge and signed onto the CSA program. Perplexed by my announcement, my boyfriend thought I was admitting to be a secessionist. Not quite. In the 21^st century “CSA” more commonly refers to Community Supported Agriculture, and can basically be described as a network that connects consumers (of food) with the local farming community (take that Jefferson Davis!)

The way most CSA programs work involves “shareholders” or “subscribers” buying into a crop before the growing season begins. In return for the investment, consumers are supplied with a share of fruit and vegetables that the farm produces, which is chosen by the farmers based on which crops have ripened. Depending on the farm, they often deliver to neighborhood businesses, institutions, or even established subscribers’ homes. Shares of different sizes and intervals are available. For instance, from the church two blocks from my apartment, I will be receiving a share every other week, (as I only need enough for two people), over a 20-week span. Usually the growing season begins in June and lasts through September, sometimes with extensions into Fall and Winter. CSA involves more than produce farmers, but also meat and poultry, eggs and cheese, even nuts and flowers.

The value of establishing grower/consumer relationships through networks like CSA is enormous and beneficial to both parties. You can know exactly what you are eating, where it is from, and the conditions in which it was grown. Local food tastes better as it is more fresh and seasonable, with no need for long-term storage and over-packaging. Pollution is reduced by food traveling minimal distances, and farmland remains farmland, resisting needless urban and suburban sprawl. A step up from frequenting farmers’ markets, the grower is paid in advance, and energy is focused on food over fundraising.

I wanted to sign up last year but did not think I could afford it and was wary of moving apartments and being without a kitchen. So this is the year when I can test all the good things I’ve read—the only complaint I’ve come across is that there are too many vegetables, and you have to get creative cooking things you may not know about.

One of the struggles I never foresaw about urban living is the loss I often feel in not being a part of a tight-knit community. Growing up my world was small, as I’m sure it was for everyone, but it always felt like the people around me were there for a reason, that we all shared something much greater than proximity. I didn’t know what an advantage I had being raised within walking distance of Fairview Gardens, which remains today one of the finest small-scale urban food sites. Knowing now that my summer meals will be based on fresh food that came from southern Wisconsin and benefited a wonderful and underappreciated part of the community, for me, will be the best damn part of the summer

President Obama Bison Burgers

2009-01-21T12:01:00.000-06:00

Overwhelmed by information and updates from the inauguration yesterday, I decided to turn my attention to dinner preparations as an outlet, a way to channel the media-frenzied energy that was beginning to make me feel listless and patriotically chaffed. Off my mind wandered to thoughts of Red, White and Barry Parfaits or a Barry Obama Pie, or perhaps an Onion Obama Frittata. It was about seven seconds later I realized that all of these possibilities were down-right obnoxious, crossing the line to overkill, and that I needed to regroup and plant my feet on solid ground.

Something simple, hearty, with just a dash of national pride was required. I recalled seeing a recipe for bison in a food magazine recently and thought there could be nothing better suited than burgers for a celebration of our 44th President. Having recently read about the benefits of bison in lieu of beef, it was a topic I felt compelled to research more thoroughly.

The nutritional benefits make a strong case for integrating bison, or American Buffalo (even though it isn’t technically buffalo), into your diet. Whereas beef cattle are often injected with hormones and drugs, and are subjected to over-handling, bison deliver quality meat with no intervention. It is substantially lower in fat and calories than lean beef, while providing more protein, iron and B-12 to your system. But if you, like the rest of us, are not into calorie-counting, the environmental impact of bison versus beef cattle may be more resonant.

While grass-fed beef is now widely available, cattle still require grain to supplement their diet, the cultivation of which eats up prairie land and emits enormous amounts of fossil fuels from crop processing machinery. Most of the environmental benefits of bison can be attributed to the fact that they are non-domesticated and therefore require as little human influence as possible. Prairies and grass pastures naturally provide a sustainable food source, simultaneously reducing soil erosion, and allowing other species a habitat in which to thrive.

There is a downside to bison (though it took me a while to uncover), which is that they are very temperamental and sometimes dangerous, which is exactly why indigenous populations never domesticated them. I came across a statistic that claimed you are about 4 times more likely to be injured or killed by bison than bears. Though, if you provoke a bison, which is the only reason they would attack, you deserve what’s coming to you.

In closing, bison are rad and look prehistoric so stop eating cows, you terrorists, and get your fix with the true American beast.

To the recipe!

a few glugs of olive oil
2 onions (sweet or yellow), sliced
1/2 cup dry red wine
1 pound ground bison (you can buy it at Whole Foods and it’s the same price as their ground beef)
2 shallots, chopped
1 clove of garlic, minced
large pinches of salt and pepper
a few splashes or Worcestershire sauce
4 hamburger buns
enough white cheddar (or provolone or pepperjack) for the burgers, and snacking while you prepare the burgers
Dijon or stone ground mustard
a few handfuls of whatever greens you have on hand (spinach, arugula, romaine)

Sauté onions with a bit of oil and salt over medium heat until golden brown, turning to prevent out-right burning, and lowering heat if necessary. Add the wine and reduce until the liquid is absorbed, set aside.

If you have one, fire up the broiler which will come in handy for bun toasting and thawing the interior of your kitchen. Combine the meat with the shallots, garlic, S&P and Worcestershire. I made four patties with the pound of meat, but they were a bit scrawny so three may be better. Heat a well-oiled skillet on high and cook until well-browned (about 2 minutes per side will be med-rare.)

Cover the bun-tops with cheese and broil both tops and bottoms for a few seconds until toasted (turning your back to the oven will inevitably turn them to charcoal briquettes, as I well know). For easy assembly, spread mustard on the bottoms, top that with greens, then the bison, and finally the cheesy bun-top.

(See Bon Appétit for a similar, yet less refined recipe.)

Lamb Kebobs for Winter Blues

2009-01-15T11:58:00.000-06:00

Chicago is approaching 26-year record lows, and has already topped out its snow average for the year. Lining the streets are discarded papers that read “60 Hours Below Zero” and “Brace Yourself”. As a California transplant, hearing news like this can drive me into an unforgiving pit of despair. All of a sudden I’m pulling out my hair and smacking my forehead against the frosted-over train platform screaming expletives as I curse that fateful day I decided to move. These hopeless winter moments are further agitated by messages left from loved ones who are enjoying record highs with their barbecues and short-sleeves and stupid walks on the beach.

One must have an arsenal of tools and activities to combat the winter blues. My trenches are outfitted with new kitchen instruments, recipes, challenging ingredients, and many bottles of wine. A common defense on a January night takes the form of stew or roast, but like anything else, these too lose their appeal after weeks of repetition.

A fresh approach occurred to me that instead of concocting a warm dish, I could create a dish that originated in a warm place. Turning to inspiration from the Middle East and the frozen pound of ground lamb I had on hand, all the elements fell into place for spicy lamb kebabs. (this recipe is an adaptation from Jamie Oliver)

1 lbs. ground lamb (you can get neck or shoulder and have it ground by the butcher)
1 tsp. dried thyme
1 tsp. cumin
1 tsp. ground red pepper (chili)
1 large lemon (zest and juice)
pinch of salt and pepper
handful of shelled pistachios
1 red onion, peeled, half thinly sliced, half finely chopped
couple handfuls of romaine and/or arugula, shredded
small bunch of mint
small bunch flat-leaf parsley, leaves picked
4 large tortillas (flat bread or pita would be more authentic)
small container of Greek yogurt

Serves 4.

If you have access to a barbecue and the temperature isn’t 11 degrees, these kebabs would be ideal on the grill. That being said, when your lovely barbecue is piled with 6 inches of snow and frozen shut it is necessary to find alternative means. A griddle pan or a good old large sauté on the burner will do the trick.

Also if you are working with wooden skewers be sure to soak them for 30 minutes before use, or if you have neither, just work the lamb into little patties and cook through.

Combine the spices and lemon zest (hold the juice) and set aside a few pinches to dust the final wraps. In a food processor or with sufficient elbow grease combine the lamb, spices and zest, large pinches of salt and pepper, pistachios, and the chopped onion until well mixed.

Divide the meat into fourths, and mold each piece around a skewer, like corn-on-the-cob, maintaining an equal thickness (no thicker than two inches) so the meat cooks evenly. Set aside.

Mix the lettuces, parsley and mint leaves with the sliced red onions, and squeeze the juice of one lemon to cover. Toss these with salt and pepper, and set aside as the acid will slightly pickle the onion taking the bite out of them.

Get the barbecue or pan hot and cook your skewers about two minutes on each side until golden brown all over (cut through to make sure they are evenly cooked). While the lamb is cooking, warm or toast the tortillas. Dress the tortilla with salad leaves, break pieces of lamb off the skewers, dollop with yogurt, sprinkle on the reserved spice mixture and enjoy!
(And tell Clarice the lambs stopped crying.)

I didn’t have my camera on hand while cooking, so this is taken from my lunch left-overs today (not a great photo but tasted delicious.)

New Year's Stuffed Mushrooms

2009-01-01T11:49:00.002-06:00

Alas, I have returned. Smarmy politics and the bitter cold wind off the lake once again blew my desires for a vegetable bed and wee chickens to raise and slaughter back to the dreamworld in which they reside.

While visiting that California dreamworld I was asked to bring food to a New Year’s Eve party with, you guessed it, a load of vegans. Not one for preparing faux-meat, I turned elsewhere and came across a recipe for stuffed mushrooms which resulted in a noble nibbly veg.

I enjoy a lot of versatility in food especially when it comes to appetizers, which I often find myself needing to whip up last minute. The beauty of the mushroom is that you can take its stuffing down the road of breadcrumbs, orzo, ground meat, or in this case roasted and briny vegetables.

2 med. red bell peppers, roasted
1 long red chile pepper, roasted
1/2 cup green olives, finely diced
2 shallots, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tbs. olive oil + 1 tbs. reserved
salt and pepper to taste
1/2 cup Pecorino Romano and/or Gruyere, grated (omit for vegans)
about 15 Cremini mushrooms
bunch of parsley for garnish

Preheat the oven to 400F degrees

To roast the bell and chile peppers, puncture all over, then with tongs or a long fork hold over an open flame (e.g. your burner) until thoroughly charred and blistered. Place both peppers in a bowl and cover tightly for about ten minutes, until they steam their own insides and the skin peels easily off. Remove seeds as they can be hot or bitter depending on the size of the pepper.

Finely dice the capsicums and add them to the diced olives, shallots, and garlic. Toss together with oil, salt and pepper to taste, and cheese. Pop the stems out of clean mushrooms and fill the cavities generously with stuffing. Place the mushrooms on a cookie sheet lined with foil and in the oven they go! Bake for about 20 minutes until the mushrooms are golden and the cheese is melted.

Sprinkle the tops with parsley and enjoy!

Palmiers

2008-12-20T11:04:00.000-06:00

As an early Christmas gift last week I was given the latest cookbook by a certain Hamptons Contessa. It came in handy this weekend when I threw a little holiday dinner bash and found myself in desperate need of an easy and all-impressive appetizer. Behold the Palmier! The French word for palm tree, Palmiers are also known as palm leaves or elephant ears. In a traditional French patisserie these little treats would be flaky and sugary, occasionally with the helping hand of cinnamon. However, much to the delight of small plates the world over these pastries do enormously well with savory toppings.

What is mostly involved in preparing Palmiers is purchased puff pastry dough (unless you want to go out balls blazing with Julia Child.) After setting the frozen sheets out to thaw you want to roll them out and spread with your filling of choice. In the recipe I prepared I chose sun-dried tomatoes, goat cheese and fresh basil– which I had the luxury of plucking out of my pots in the kitchen window. I was recommended to use pesto which I didn’t have time for (hence the fresh basil) and chopped pine nuts which I was clean out of– didn’t even miss them. Were you in need of a simple dessert you could make like the French and use butter and sugar, or spread it with a thin layer of Nutella and call yourself Italian. The best part is, the more ways you experiment the more ways to enjoy!

To whet the appetite of six or so use half the dough–one sheet, or go for both and do one savory, one sweet.

half or whole package frozen puff pastry, defrosted (look for Peppridge Farm near the ice cream aisle)
half a log of goat cheese, seasoned or plain
sun-dried tomatoes in oil, chopped
fresh basil
big pinch of salt (avoid kosher or rock you’ll get chunks of it)

Lightly flour your work surface (cutting board or clean counter) and rolling pin–cylindrical jar if you’re getting creative. Roll the dough out so it gains a few inches on all sides. Arrange pinches of goat cheese, sun-dried tomatoes (don’t go overkill because you’re going to roll this up, and welcome any oil that spills out of the tomatoes), torn fresh basil and a light sprinkling of salt. Roll each width or short end to the center so you’ve got two rolls next to each other like a compacted sleigh bed and give ‘em a smoosh. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 40 to an hour.
After you’ve told the dough to go chill out, preheat your oven to 400 degrees and unwrap the dough. Slice about 1/4 inch thick and lay out on a baking sheet that you’ve laid with parchment (wax) paper. Bake 14 minutes until golden and revel when your friends tell you how brilliant you are!

Snow as the Comeback Kid

2008-12-03T16:03:00.008-06:00

We lucky inhabitants of the arctic North saw a somewhat early snowfall at the start of the week. As most Chicagoans began their seasonal griping while digging out their cars and enjoying double-time commutes, my only cynical retaliation was a knowing roll-of-the-eyes that I employed to mask my inner 8 year old. But with 18 snowflake-free years under my belt how can I help but turn into a giddy bright-eyed girl when I see the the grimy urbanity with which I otherwise live embraced by a blanket of soft white?

Nothing is more magical than snow, especially at the start of the season when the novelty of it is not yet lost. Finally a tangible reason to light those fireplaces! to plant that holly and ivy! to hum Bing Crosby as you trek up the street to the train!

For those who no longer awake to the sight of a winter-white window, or who have never resided outside of Southern California, I give you a few snapshots to whet your winter palate.

Winter Kitchen Garden

2008-11-18T10:20:00.009-06:00

While all of the cottage/home-decor magazines told me months ago to say goodbye to my garden and prepare my perennials for that which my annuals could not withstand, I somehow convinced myself to give the tomato a go in the kitchen.

Though logic informs me a cherry tomato plant does not produce in the winter, I maintain my belief that an enthusiastic mixture of miracle-gro and crazy can produce horticulture wonderment. After all, I still can't keep up with the production of two basil plants born from clippings that sprouted roots in a glass of water in the summer of '07 and have since withstood a record Chicago winter, moving uptown, and about a thousand bouts of re-potting.

But here is my boastful Winter garden. At right is the wee tomato in March, at left he rings in at pushing 8 feet.

Hiatus in New York

2008-11-12T11:42:00.004-06:00

For those dedicated readers who have missed me (thanks you two!), a recent long-winded business trip to New York where my point-and-shoot digital camera broke has set me far back in the posting department. Please look forward to: "Dining Experiences in the Big Apple," "Why I heart the Spotted Pig," and "Thoughts on the NYTimes Foodie Book Wish List."

(Pictured is Central Park on the day of the NY Marathon.)

Autumn Arrives!

2008-09-22T12:33:00.003-05:00

Happy first day of Fall!

(All root vegetables beware.)

Farewell Gladiolas

2008-09-19T13:26:00.005-05:00

A Gladiola Haiku

Gone is your season
Flamboyant blooms for summer
See you in April.

Rainy Day Eggs

2008-09-19T13:20:00.009-05:00

Last weekend Chicago was hit with four days amounting to record rainfall as the tail of Hurricane Ike washed over us. For me, the perfect antidote to a soaking city is Gosford Park and a plateful of eggs. But having recently dropped and broken my VHS copy of Altman's masterpiece I was forced to focus all my efforts on the eggs, and settle for a Dirty Jobs marathon (not such a travesty thanks to the always-charming Mike Rowe.)

I came across this lovely combination of poached eggs on Parmesan toast with Basil Pistou. It was simple and delightful. I have a forest of Basil growing in two terra cotta pots in my kitchen, which inspires me to find new ways of harvesting the leaves before Winter renders my perennials dull and fruitless. Pistou shares roots with its Italian counterpart derived from a line by Virgil, but the real difference between the two is that pine nuts make no appearance.

This meal requires no exact recipe. I simply processed a handful of basil with a few glugs of olive oil, a sprinkle of salt and pepper, and several cloves of garlic (though I believe only one is advisable.) I cut the remnants of last night’s baguette in half lengthwise, (though brioche or challah would be amazing) threw on some Parm Reg, and toasted the two. Bring a few inches of salted water to a simmer (with a splash of vinegar) and gently break the eggs into the water, poaching for about 3 minutes. Top your toast with the eggs, drizzle with Pistou, season, and be glad to enjoy the hurricane and Kelly MacDonald from the comfort of your couch.

Envirosax

2008-09-03T14:58:00.012-05:00

Find yourself burning through plastic bags all the time? I certainly do. Many of us remember to bring canvas bags when we hit the grocery store or farmer's market, but for myself I find the plastic that accompanies an unplanned retail adventure can send me into an ebb of guilt, and add to the mound of non-recyclable, barely reusable plastic bags nesting under my sink. It's usually an unexpected detour to the pharmacy, or a stop at Target on the way home that contributes to this shameful pile.

Luckily there are gifted people out there devising easy short-cuts for making our lives a little more green. My sister received a pack of these Envriosax for a birthday gift this summer, and gave in when I nagged her for one. They come in numerous patterns, and are capable of packing a surpisingly large volume load. The best part is that they fold up into tiny rolls that fit in your purse, car door, or messenger bag with ease. Keep one on you at all times, and that nasty nest of plastic under your sink that you feel guilty about throwing away will begin to shrink (or at least keep from multiplying.)

Buy them individually at Whole Foods or in packs on the web:

http://www.envirosax.com/
The original ones are poly but they've just come out with lines of bamboo, linen and hemp.

Brilliant Carrot Cake

2008-09-03T13:25:00.005-05:00

Carrot Cake is a dessert favorite for me. As I tend to take after my German ancestors and bear the burden of an underdeveloped sweet tooth, falling in love with dessert is a rare experience. Most days I'd happily take a crispy dill pickle or briny black olive in lieu of a cookie or cupcake. But this Carrot Cake that I recently tried stands so far above its dry, over-spiced competitors that I'm prepared to never look back.

I've come across a few recipes that employ an embarrassing single cup of carrot or use vegetable oil instead of butter. Jamie Oliver's recipe (from Cook with Jamie, currently my favorite and never out of arm's reach) uses a laudable 10 ounces of carrot and incorporates orange and ground almond in the batter. The lime mascarpone icing is a major contribution to the brilliance of this cake with the lightness of the mascarpone and the freshness of the lime zest complimenting the sweet and delicate spice of the cake.

CARROT CAKE WITH LIME MASCARPONE ICING

1 1/4 cups unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan
2 cups light-brown sugar
5 large eggs, separated (retain yolk and white)
Zest and juice of 1 orange
1 slightly heaped teaspoon baking powder
1 heaped teaspoon ground cinnamon
Pinch of ground cloves
Pinch of ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1 cup ground almonds (almond meal in some stores)
4 ounces shelled walnuts, chopped, plus more for garnish
1 1/2 cups self-rising flour, sifted
10 ounces carrots, peeled and coarsely grated
Sea salt
4 ounces mascarpone cheese
8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
1 scant cup confectioners' sugar, sifted
Zest and juice of two lime

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter a 9x9x2 inch baking pan and line with parchment paper. (Questionable at first, but definitely makes life easier). Set aside.
Process butter and brown sugar (use your kitchen aid or Cuisinart), then add egg yolks one at a time allowing each to incorporate. Add orange zest and juice, then baking powder and all your spices, combine well.
In a separate bowl whisk egg whites with a pinch of salt until stiff peaks form. Gently fold in almonds, walnuts, flour, and carrots; fold cake mixture into egg white mixture. Pour batter into prepared pan and bake until golden and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, 50 minutes to 1 hour. Let cake cool in the pan 10 minutes before turning out onto a wire rack to cool completely.
In a medium bowl, mix together mascarpone, cream cheese, confectioners' sugar, and lime zest and juice. Place cake on your favorite dish, spread icing over top of cooled cake and sprinkle with chopped walnuts.

Limoncello Cheesecake Squares with Rosemary Sugar

2008-08-30T10:45:00.034-05:00

I recently came into the ownership of a very fine Limited-Edition Cuisinart. It delightfully came well equipped with grating, slicing, breadkneading and whipping attachments and quite serendipitously matches all the large appliances in my kitchen with its streamlined stainless-steel exterior. In search of recipes that would allow for me to crumble, grind, and pulverize (à la Mme. Cuisinart) my way to a tasty summer dessert, I found this one for Limoncello Cheesecake Squares, which I outfitted to my own needs and desires.

As I foolishly decided to finish the 3rd hour of The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, before beginning the cheesecake, my memory of the process is a bit blurred both by the approaching 1 o’clock hour and that third glass of Pinot Grigio. But after a day of refrigeration the recipe turned out to be quite successful.

I started with Trader Joe’s almond biscotti, and begrudgingly substituted the Limoncello with a simple syrup of lemon juice, zest and sugar as my neighborhood liquor store had nothing resembling a citrus liqueur. I also wanted to top the squares with something unusual that would compliment the brightness of the lemon. As my lavender plant refuses to produce any flowers I was left to choose between rosemary and basil, but went with the former for its piney aroma and savory contribution. Simply process a scant ½ cup of sugar with a handful of rosemary leaves.

((Be advised the baking time for me went at least 15 minutes over in order to produce that golden center which, if your eyelids aren’t sagging while you reprimand yourself for not beginning at a reasonable hour, shouldn’t be a problem.))

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/limoncello-cheesecake-squares-recipe2/index.html

Beginning

2008-08-30T10:00:00.005-05:00

Since its inauguration into the World Wide Web I have found myself questioning what this thing called a “blog” is all about. Some sort of internet diary or bulletin board in the era of any-and-everyone-can-be-published, it seemed self-indulgent and brimming on narcissistic to relay the events of one’s life to the general public under the assumption that someone out there was just dying to hear that you just purchased your very own garlic press or finally made the switch over to reusable grocery bags.

But as my usually lovely and rarely fast-paced job affords me ample time for my own disposal, I more often than not find myself doing this very thing—browsing through "published" journals of political satire, celebrity gossip, country living, and recipe experimentation. I have no intention of dedicating my bloggage to one thing specifically, but hope to investigate a handful of activities including but not limited to cookery, art, urbanity, and the more interesting or ridiculous aspects of the human condition.