NOTE: I am a fan of 30-day challenges, and November is traditionally a time of two: National Novel Writing Month, and 30 Days of Thanks. As I am not a fiction writer, this year I have chosen to publish a daily blog for the entire month, expressing my gratitude. This may not be entirely food-focused, but expect recipes aplenty. Feel free to join me in the comments below. What are you thankful for today?
There is pretty much nothing better than hot, fresh-baked goods on a cold Sunday morning, and today is no exception.
This day I am grateful for easy, always successful, super adaptable scones. This morning I made cherry ginger almond and ate two as soon as I pulled the pan from the oven.
This can be done easily in a food processor, but I like to make these by hand.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees (375 on convection).
In a large bowl, combine the dry ingredients and whisk to combine.
In a smaller bowl. combine egg and yogurt and whisk to thoroughly incorporate egg with yogurt. Set aside.
Grate the full stick of butter into the dry ingredients and use your fingertips to crumble flour into butter. It should resemble cornmeal.
Stir in add-ins, then add wet ingredients to dry and stir until clumps begin to form. Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead until all of the crumbly bits are incorporated.
Shape into an 8″ disk then use a bench scraper or sharp knife to cut into 8 scones. Sprinkle each scone with turbinado sugar, then place on a baking pan lined with parchment paper.
Bake for 15 to 18 minutes until scones are golden brown. For a traditional scone, let them cool completely before eating, but I bet you don’t make it that long.
You can add pretty much anything you want to these: chocolate chips and walnuts, other dried fruits, coconut, different spices. I think cooked and crumbled bacon would pretty much through these over the top, specifically with the same dried cherries and maybe a little maple glaze.
NOTE: I am a fan of 30-day challenges, and November is traditionally a time of two: National Novel Writing Month, and 30 Days of Thanks. As I am not a fiction writer, this year I have chosen to publish a daily blog for the entire month, expressing my gratitude. This may not be entirely food-focused, but expect recipes aplenty. Feel free to join me in the comments below. What are you thankful for today?
I have been craving cake for two weeks.
If I was not gluten-free, this would be easy enough.
Gluten-filled cake is like pizza or sex: even when it’s not the best, it’s still pretty good. A cake craving can be easily handled with a quick Suzy-Q from the 7-11 or something from the bakery at Giant. They even hand that shit out for free sometimes, so I could have technically just gotten a couple of samples and have been done with it.
Gluten-free cake, on the other hand, can be a total waste of money and the time it takes to go buy it. Some are gritty, some taste heavily of the bean flours with which they are made, and some forgo things like sugar and butter and try to be healthy.
I am too lazy to go try to acquire a cake that tastes terrible, and I just didn’t feel like baking a cake that feeds 14 for just little old me.
Today, I am grateful that I made a cake.
This cake.
It’s a little bulgy in the middle (like I will be after eating it ALL GONE) because the frosting is a marshmallow creation that isn’t always up to, well, holding up a cake.
No matter. It does the job as long as it needs to, which isn’t very long because I may be sending this out to those lucky folks who ordered food this week. #Surprise
I used the white cake recipe from the piecaken experiment last year, subbing coconut milk for regular milk, and I covered the whole damn thing with coconut.
NOTE: I am a fan of 30-day challenges, and November is traditionally a time of two: National Novel Writing Month, and 30 Days of Thanks. As I am not a fiction writer, this year I have chosen to publish a daily blog for the entire month, expressing my gratitude. This may not be entirely food-focused, but expect recipes aplenty. Feel free to join me in the comments below. What are you thankful for today?
I have voted for president in three states in my lifetime: Maryland, Washington, and Georgia.
I vote in primaries.
I vote in mid-term elections.
I donate money on occasion to candidates.
Today, I am grateful that this shitshow of an election is over. #Gratitude
This blog is posting in the morning, so I don’t know how grateful I will be for the result of the election tomorrow, but if things proceed as they should, all campaigning and mudslinging and incivility will be over, at least until the next election.
(okay, that’s a bit naive, but allow me that indulgence for just this one moment)
Every presidential election since I can remember I have stayed up late, watching the election returns on TV. Even when I was a little kid we would huddle around the black and white TV, watching the percentages change. The first election I can actually remember is Jimmy Carter’s.
Ten days ago, in preparation for the ritual election returns watching, I baked an election cake. Election cakes date back to before the Revolutionary War when they were prepared for hundreds of people using nuts, dried fruit, wine, and whiskey.
Bakeries across the country are reviving the election cake tradition using the hashtag #MakeAmericaCakeAgain. When three people tagged me on an election cake post, I figured I would give it a shot.
Trouble is, I am no fan of yeast as it can be problematic in gluten-free baking, and traditional election cakes use yeast for their raising agent. Election cakes use yeast to create a live sponge, into which fruit, nuts, and additional flour are added.
In all other aspects, though, this shit is just a boozy fruitcake, which I happen to have on lock.
I made this cake ten days ago because it just gets better (and boozier) with age. It’s also very, very forgiving, so if you don’t have the particular dried fruits on hand you can make do with what you have. Just keep the total amount the same and you should be just fine.
Suzannah’s Modern-Day Election Cake
Ingredients
1 cup golden raisins (or regular)
1 cup currants
2 cups of any combination of the following: dried cherries, blueberries, cranberries, chopped apricots
Zest of one orange
Zest of one lemon
1/4 cup crystallized ginger, chopped
1 cup rum, bourbon, or brandy
1 cup sugar
10 tablespoons butter
1 cup apple cider
Teaspoon of each of the following: clove, ginger, cinnamon, allspice
Brandy for basting (I used Laird’s Applejack because it’s what I had)
Method
THE NIGHT BEFORE: Combine dried fruits, citrus zest, chopped ginger, and booze in a glass container. Mix thoroughly and place overnight in the ‘fridge. This can be in the ‘fridge for two (or more) days, so if you get distracted, no problem.
It’s also delicious straight off the spoon, but that can be dangerous.
When you are ready to bake, place dried fruit, sugar, apple cider, and spices in a non-reactive saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring often, then turn heat down and simmer for ten minutes. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.
Preheat oven to 325 degrees.
Sift together flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt.
Add to cooled fruit mixture and mix thoroughly. Add eggs one at a time, mixing well to incorporate each egg. Add chopped pecans.
Grease three disposable loaf pans (you are going to want to share these. Maybe). Divide batter evenly between the tins and bake for one hour. Test for doneness by inserting a paring knife. The knife should come out completely clean. If crumbs are sticking to the knife, bake for another five minutes and test again.
When the election (cake) is (finally) finished (over), remove from oven and baste liberally (yuk, yuk) with brandy. Cool completely in tin before turning out.
You are welcome at this point to try your cake. It will be spicy and fruity and nutty and delicious.
But this cake gets even better with age.
Wrap it tightly in plastic, store on the counter, and baste with brandy every couple days. In two weeks you will be eating a little slice of heaven, like we will be eating on election night.
I have heard that this cake last for a month or more. I may make it again on Thanksgiving and take it to Christmas to see how it goes. The booze and the sugar act as preservatives.
NOTE: I am a fan of 30-day challenges, and November is traditionally a time of two: National Novel Writing Month, and 30 Days of Thanks. As I am not a fiction writer, this year I have chosen to publish a daily blog for the entire month, expressing my gratitude. This may not be entirely food-focused, but expect recipes aplenty. Feel free to join me in the comments below. What are you thankful for today?
Last week I drove to Pennsylvania to visit my nearly-98-year-old grandmother. It was the day after a particularly difficult therapy session (yes, we can talk about this: it’s mental health, y’all), and the drive out of the city was a welcome escape.
There is something about sunny, crisp days when the trees are outlined in black against the clearest blue sky and golden-hued leaves fall like rain from the trees that fills me up with a complicated mix of emotions.
On this particular day, I had a very clear sense of myself and what it is I am trying to do.
Let go.
Give in.
Lean in.
(a phrase I hate but which is utterly appropriate here)
On a day like this, I feel like every step I take is a step towards the person I have always wanted to become in this lifetime and away from the person that I was becoming, the child who experienced trauma but had never looked it square in the eyes as an adult. It is difficult to imagine doing work like this on a clear, sunny day, and yet this is one of the few times when I feel at peace with myself.
I cannot always talk explicitly about the things I am dealing with; it’s not a fit for this blog, and it will be hurtful to some who are still on the earth. But it is important work for me, and as I drove the two hours to see Grandma, I kept returning to one person with whom I have been able to talk explicity, slowly unwinding the knotted threads of decades-old hurts and haunts.
In this endeavor, I have been supported this past (nearly) year by someone who has previously only been known as my “particular friend.”
I am 45. “Boyfriend” sounds dumb at my age.
“Partner” could be many different things.
“Lovin’ spoonful” is silly and applies but is often dismissed.
“Lover” just doesn’t work in mixed company.
In light of this, I will start my 30 Days of Thanks by introducing Khristian Weeks, my particular friend.
I introduce him here, this first day, because he has been in the 11 months I have known him a source of tremendous joy, love, and support.
Khristian is an artist. He loves children and has decided to love my dogs, even though he isn’t, himself, actually a dog person (and they love him sloppily back).
He brings me coffee in bed.
I cook for him, and he loves it.
We go for long walks.
We kiss in public, quite a lot (sorry, everyone in the freezer section of MOM’s in Hampden).
He talks to me about creative things and wants to collaborate with me, a first for me in all of my time as a writer (and with a host of other past artistic boyfriends who maybe never saw me as an artist).
Khristian has made me happy and given me hope for everything that is to come in this life.
So for all of this, I am making him a mushroom galette.
Khristian is a newly-minted pescatarian, and he loves all things vegetable.
Except mushrooms.
So why in hell would I decide to make a mushroom galette for this person who means so much to me? Isn’t that sort of shitty?
Well, here’s the thing.
I like a challenge. Khristian hates mushrooms; I want to make him something with mushrooms that he loves.
When my friend Laura posted that she had foraged some maitake mushrooms (also known as hen of the woods) from Druid Hill Park, I swapped her buttermilk mashed potatoes, two types of slaw, and a roasted chicken thigh for a huge bag of maitakes and a smaller bag of chicken of the woods mushrooms (which I am planning on frying like chicken and slathering in barbecue sauce. #Trust).
#GoodTrade
The recipe below uses my gluten-free galette crust from my butternut squash and caramelized onion galette. The filling is a combination of red chard harvested from The Friends School (where Khristian works), mushrooms from Druid Hill Park just two miles away, and ricotta cheese. This is the kind of hyper-local food that is bound to taste good.
Hopefully dedicating a recipe to someone isn’t like getting their named tattooed on your body (as in, that it pretty much instantly dooms the relationship).
Khristian, my love, on my first day of gratitude in November, this is for you.
1 stick of very cold butter, cut into bits (or frozen and grated)
1/4 cup Greek yogurt (or sour cream, or regular yogurt)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/4 cup ice water (seriously. Ice water. Don’t skimp. Cold tap doesn’t work.)
1 cup ricotta cheese, seasoned to taste with salt and pepper
1 cup (ish) maitake mushrooms, torn, or crimini mushrooms, sliced
1 clove garlic, chopped
1 large bunch of red chard, cut into bite-sized pieces (I do not remove the ribs, but you can if you like)
1 egg, beaten
1 cup fresh mixed herbs (I used all parsley because that’s what was in the Friends School garden, but any combination of cilantro, chives, or dill would be lovely)
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1 teaspoon lemon juice
Method
Make pastry first, as it needs to chill. You can even make it the day before.
Method one: Combine flour and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to mix. In a small bowl, combine sour cream and lemon juice. Add butter to flour and salt in food processor and pulse until the mixture resembles cornmeal. Add sour cream mixture and pulse to combine. Slowly add ice water until dough comes together.
Method two: Combine flour and salt in a large bowl. In a small bowl, combine sour cream and lemon juice. Using a pastry cutter or fingers, rub butter into flour until mixture resembles cornmeal. Add sour cream mixture and mix well. Add ice water and mix until dough comes together.
Turn dough out onto a sheet of plastic wrap and press together into a ball. Wrap tightly and chill for an hour.
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
In a large pan to prevent overcrowding, heat oil and add mushrooms. Season with salt and pepper. If mushrooms are crowded in the pan, they will steam rather than crisp. If you only have a small pan, saute in batches. Crispy mushrooms take about five minutes over medium-high heat. Remove from pan and set aside.
Add garlic to the same pan and saute without burning, then add red chard. Season with salt and pepper, then cook until the chard begins to wilt. I like to keep mine slightly crispy, but it’s up to you. Four minutes and your chard will be completely wilted. I cook for about a minute less than that.
I use a piece of parchment paper to roll out my crust, as this makes for super easy transfer to a baking sheet.
Place chilled dough on parchment. Place plastic wrap on top of the dough (this keeps pastry from sticking to the rolling pin without adding extra flour, which can dry pastry out) and roll out into a circle roughly 12″ in diameter and no more than a 1/4″ thick.
Spread 3/4 cup of ricotta over the pastry, leaving about 1 1/2″ around the edge without filling. Top ricotta with chard, then pile mushrooms on top of that. Spoon remaining ricotta over vegetables. Season once more with salt and pepper.
Fold the edges of the pastry over and pinch to seal any gaps. I use a bench scraper to pick up the dough so that I am not warming it up by touching it more than I have to.
Brush edges of pastry with beaten egg.
Keeping galette on the parchment, transfer to a baking sheet and bake for about 40 minutes (check at 20) until the edges are golden brown.
Remove from oven and let stand for at least five minutes before serving. To serve, mix fresh herbs, lemon zest, lemon juice, and one tablespoon of olive oil together. Top galette with herb mixture and cut like a pizza.
I am familiar with the phenomenon of not knowing what you have until it’s gone.
See also: sudden accidental death of husband.
But I am also familiar with another phenomenon that is a result of that first, very common phenomenon.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I know EXACTLY what I have, exactly when I have it.
Take, for example, my yoga community.
If you have read this blog for any length of time, you may have gleaned that I am also a yoga teacher. I just earned my 500-hour yoga teacher training certificate, and after some delay at the end of the actual course in August, my cohort and teachers at Baltimore Yoga Village got together to discuss ethics, eat some food, and sit around a fire, looking up at the moon, this past Sunday night.
I have been on this journey to become a yoga teacher for two years; I got my first level of certification in 2015 and decided to dive deeper and keep going. Some of the people around the fire last night did the same.
I have shared my grief, openly, with these near strangers in the first year.
I have watched them change their lives – new job, lost loves, old job, sickness, new love.
I know what I have in these people. I appreciate and value them for their support, their beautiful spirits, and their vastly different paths. I realized from the very first weekend, two years ago, exactly what I have in this community, and I am very grateful to have it.
Spirituality is a tricky thing, though, and I won’t attempt to delve into it here. The language of it is mostly useless, and often it turns into so much chatter with no real meaning.
But suffice it to say, over the past two years, this group of people has helped turn in and tune in. To my vibration, if you want to use the vernacular (which I don’t, but #OM). And for that, I am deeply grateful. To a person, they are exceptional humans. and I am grateful to have spent such intense time with them.
But you can’t really talk about spirituality without a sense of humor. At least I can’t. If you get too serious then it gets a little douche-y and fundamentalist, which I cannot abide.
Thankfully, humor is abundant in this group also.
I met Elaine in 2015 when we started our second level of training. Like me, she is a writer and a teacher. She is a great lover of pie, the eating and the making, which one might think would translate for her into other forms of cooking.
Not so.
Around November of 2015, Elaine shared with me that she had in the trunk of her car a butternut squash that had been rolling around in there for several weeks.
She mentioned this squash again and posted the following picture on Facebook, FOUR MONTHS LATER.
She confessed that she had no idea what to do with a butternut squash. I urged her to bring it to teacher training the following month, and in April, she finally did. Minus the floppy hat.
We laughed, I told her I would make something, then I brought it to my house, stuck it in my kitchen, and mostly forgot about it. I said I would make something when teacher training ended, but then I missed the last weekend potluck. I thought the opportunity had passed.
Plus, at this point, the squash was over a year old. It was covered with a thin white-ish film, like dust but not dust. Its smiling face was fading along with the color of the peel.
But then the hunter’s moon rose, a get-together was planned, and I had to figure out a dish to bring.
So this happened.
I am not a big pastry maker. Gluten-free crust should be easy, but it’s not. Straight-up pie crust doesn’t generally require regular flour, as gluten is more of a hindrance, but for some reason, up until about a month ago my crust was always pitiful. Dry without being flaky. Flavorless.
So I approached this galette in the way I approach every uncertain baking situation: I made a recipe for the first time to take to a gathering, which is dumb, but I also made a back-up yellow squash casserole, just in case (I also just sort of made that recipe up, too, having never made a squash casserole. Also dumb).
Turns out, all you need is a little Greek yogurt (or sour cream) to make a crust that will make you weep (okay, maybe not weeping). This galette was delicious and easy and fed many people I love.
Sadly, not Elaine, who was unable to make it. But Elaine, this recipe is for you, with so much love and so many blessings upon you.
1 stick of very cold butter, cut into bits (or frozen and grated)
1/4 cup Greek yogurt (or sour cream, or regular yogurt)
1 teaspoon lemon juice
1/4 cup ice water (seriously. Ice water. Don’t skimp. Cold tap doesn’t work.)
2 tablespoons butter
1 teaspoon of salt
pinch of sugar (OPTIONAL)
1 medium onion, sliced in half moons
cayenne to taste
2 cups butternut squash in 1/2″ dice (about one medium squash, peeled, seeded, and diced)
2 teaspoons dried sage
1 cup shredded provolone cheese
salt and pepper to taste
Method
Make pastry first, as it needs to chill. You can even make it the day before.
Method one: Combine flour and salt in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to mix. In a small bowl, combine sour cream and lemon juice. Add butter to flour and salt in food processor and pulse until the mixture resembles cornmeal. Add sour cream mixture and pulse to combine. Slowly add ice water until dough comes together.
Method two: Combine flour and salt in a large bowl. In a small bowl, combine sour cream and lemon juice. Using a pastry cutter or fingers, rub butter into flour until mixture resembles cornmeal. Add sour cream mixture and mix well. Add ice water and mix until dough comes together.
Turn dough out onto a sheet of plastic wrap and press together into a ball. Wrap tightly and chill for an hour.
Melt butter in a hot pan and add onions, salt, and sugar (if using). Turn heat down and slowly cook onions until caramelized, about 30 minutes. Once caramelized, sprinkle with cayenne and set aside.
Preheat oven to 375. Line a baking sheet with foil (for easier clean-up. #Trust).
Toss butternut squash with olive oil, salt, and pepper. Spread in a single layer on the baking sheet. Roast squash in oven until soft, stirring once. This will take about 30 minutes.
In a large bowl, combine squash, onions, cheese, and sage. Season with salt and pepper to taste, and set aside while you roll out the crust.
I use a piece of parchment paper to roll out my crust, as this makes for super easy transfer to a baking sheet.
Place chilled dough on parchment. Place plastic wrap on top of the dough (this keeps pastry from sticking to the rolling pin without adding extra flour, which can dry pastry out) and roll out into a circle roughly 12″ in diameter and no more than a 1/4″ thick.
Pile butternut squash mixture in the center, leaving about 1 1/2″ around the edge without filling. Fold the edges of the pastry over and pinch to seal any gaps. I use a bench scraper to pick up the dough so that I am not warming it up by touching it more than I have to.
Keeping galette on the parchment, transfer to a baking sheet and bake for about 40 minutes (check at 20) until the edges are golden brown.
Remove from oven and let stand for at least five minutes before serving.
Recipe notes
This pastry works for sweet fillings as well. Apple galette is in our future. Sprinkle the crust with turbinado sugar before baking.
If your edges rip (as mine did), just make a patch with some of the other pastry.
If you happen to be in the grocery store and happen to buy those pre-cut butternut squash cubes and decide to use those instead of peeling and dicing a whole squash, consider that a win. Butternut squash can be a bitch.
An alternate method of roasting a squash is to cut it in half and remove the seeds. Brush flesh with oil and place flesh-side-down on a foil-lined baking sheet. Roast in oven at 350 until skin is easily pierced with a fork. Scoop flesh out of the skin and proceed with onions and cheese.