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 won’t lie: this month of blogging about gratitude has been a bit of a slog.
I have learned that combining gratitude, a food blog, and reflection on life is just one thing too many, so I am sticking to food as it relates to life.
It’s not that I am not grateful, and it was never that I couldn’t find something to write about.
Sometimes combining three elements is a little hectic. Next year, maybe it will just be 30 days of cookie recipes, or 30 days of sauces. Gratitude can stay in my journal or shared with those it involves.
Today, the final day of this month-long occasional forced march, I am grateful that I am done.
To celebrate, I made the first of what will certainly be multiple cranberry cakes.
Full disclosure: this could have done with a few more minutes in the oven, but rather than show you a slice that clearly indicates this, I thought I would snap what really matters – the craggy soft interior of a moist, delicious cake that was eaten with fingers before it was barely turned out on the board to take the picture.
This cake is sweet and studded with fresh cranberries that are completely unadulterated. No chopping, no sweetening, no cooking. Nothing.
So what happens is you take a bite and get this luscious, buttery, sweet vanilla cake, followed by a bright/tart burst of fresh cranberry.
So. Freaking. Good.
It’s a bit underdone because this is the first time I made it in a Bundt pan, and I was slightly pressed for time. It takes just 15 minutes to throw together but a solid 75 minutes in the oven.
The other unusual part of this recipe is that it has no leavening agent; eggs and sugar are beaten together until they double in volume and become a ribbony pale yellow.
I would love to claim this recipe as my very own, but it isn’t. I added a touch of orange zest, used my gluten-free flour mix, and didn’t measure the cranberries (just dumped a full bag of frozen cranberries in), but other than that, this recipe is perfection, as is.
Oh, and side note: you could add a ton of sugar and calories by making the pecan topping in the recipe, but that is completely unnecessary.
Today, this last day of November, what are you grateful for?
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?
Today is the day before my daughter’s ex-boyfriend’s birthday.
I know. It’s weird.
But I really liked this kid. Smart, polite, funny, clever, and a caring human and good boyfriend.
Tomorrow is Walter’s birthday, and I still think about him.
I know. That’s weird, too.
Why they broke up is none of my business, but what is my business is the fact that just three days before things ended we all went over to Walter’s parents house (me, Sicily, and Sicily’s godparents, Mark and Kerry, and their two boys) and had dinner.
And I LOVED Walter’s family.
Funny, kind, liberal, warm, welcoming, open, honest. All of them from both kids to the parents and all the way back again.
I am not the most social of people, but Walter’s family went out of their way to make me feel comfortable, or at least that’s what it felt like, which is what good hosts do.
Walter’s mom, Susan, made me feel immediately at home as I walked in with my salted caramel cheesecake pie. I told her that I break the cardinal rule of potlucks every time, which is don’t make something for the first time for a potluck, and the cheesecake pie was no exception.
“Oh,” she said, “I did the exact same thing and always do.”
#KindredSoul
After the kids broke up, Susan and I emailed a couple times, hoping to get together, but nothing came of it, and maybe that’s as it should be (or maybe not. I am still hopeful).
I did come away with the recipe for the gremolata she served on the steak that night, and I have made it several times since that dinner.
Today I am thankful for that Walter’s mother’s gremolata.
I miss Walter and his family, but we’ll always have the gremolata.
Walter’s Mother’s Gremolata
Ingredients
1 1/2 cups packed mint leaves (I used half mint, half parsley)
1/2 cup shelled, roasted pistachios
2 teaspoons minced garlic (about 2 cloves)
2 teaspoons lemon zest
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
Method
Place all ingredients in a food processor and pulse to chop. You are looking for a pesto-like consistency, not a paste, so don’t overblend.
Serve on meat, chicken, crackers, toast, whatever. It’s fucking delicious.
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?
Day one in a new America, but day ten in the (now very challenging) gratitude challenge.
Yesterday was a roller coaster of emotion for me. I spent most of the morning in bed, crying when I thought about how I was supposed to teach yoga to children later that day.
I watched HRC’s concession speech and saw a more presidential non-president elect than I think I have ever seen. I half expected her to say, “You know what? Fuck you. I have given my entire life in service to this country, and you went with someone who has given his entire life in service to gaining wealth for himself.”
But she did not. As always, she was graceful, intelligent, and passionate.
So here we are, day ten of gratitude, and today, I am grateful for soup.
Not just any soup.
Soul-warming noodle soup from Mi & Yu Noodle Bar in Federal Hill (also now in Mt. Vernon but parking sucks there).
After teaching yoga I stopped off and picked up some soup on the way home – kimchi broth with tofu and pho for me, and vegetarian broth with tofu and ramen for Khristian.
I drove home in the dark and the rain and found Khristian in the kitchen, sipping bourbon and reading.
I took off my jacket and boots while Khristian unpacked our goodies. We sat down together in the dim light of the kitchen and consoled ourselves with spicy, aromatic, and deeply nourishing bowls of soup.
Exactly what was needed.
I have a recipe for pho, an amazing recipe that is full-on plagiarized from somewhere.
I repeat: this is not my recipe.
I repeat that because I recently saw someone try to pass this recipe off as their own on The Kitchn, word for word. Plagiarizing recipes is a big fat no-no, and I called them on it.
The problem here is that all I have of this recipe is a stained piece of paper with the ingredients and the method – no attribution. So I point out it’s not mine but cannot give full credit, which is distressing but sometimes that’s the way things happen. You cut out a recipe or jot down ingredients, not realizing that it will be life-changing and you’ll want to share it later.
If you are not lucky enough to live near Mi & Yu or some similar place, make this when you need comfort. The broth freezes beautifully, so you can even make it on a bright, sunny day and just save it for when the clouds roll in.
Pho
Born in Vietnam in the 1880s, pho is little more than beef broth with thinly sliced vegetables and meat cooked directly in the piping hot broth, served with fresh herbs and lime. I have very little experience with cooking Asian food in general and with pho specifically. I am sure there are a million variations on this very delicious theme.
But I don’t profess to be a connoisseur. I have not made a career of seeking out the best pho, and I have never been to Vietnam. I don’t trust street food, where, it’s rumored, some of the best bowls are to be found, and I didn’t even know how to properly pronounce the word until my friend Kerry’s husband Mark looked at me askance and said with a bit of an air, “You mean, FUH?”
But I will say that this is the best pho-king pho I have ever had. It takes work. Multiple days. It costs a lot of money, way more than a bowl of something just as good at a pho shop would taste. But at the end of it all, you get to sit down with a bunch of friends around bowls filled with fresh, brightly colored vegetables and meat and share something utterly delicious and satisfying.
Broth Ingredients
Note: Make this the day ahead. When ready to serve, heat to nearly boiling and refresh with sliced fresh ginger. This broth can also be frozen.
5 pounds beef bones with marrow (oxtails can also be used)
2 pounds beef chuck, or other similar, flavorful cut of stewing or roasting beef
2-3” pieces of ginger, bruised with a knife and charred (see technique below)
2 medium yellow onions, peeled and charred (see technique below)
¼ cup fish sauce (don’t skimp)
3 tablespoons light brown sugar
Toasted spices: 10 whole star anise, 6 whole cloves
1 tablespoon salt (not iodized; sea salt, preferably)
Broth Method
Charring technique: Bruising the ginger by pounding it with the flat of a chef’s knife before charring helps release more juice and flavor. For both ginger and onion, use tongs and hold over a flame until the sides are burnt and smoking. Both ginger and onions will become fragrant in about three or four minutes. Peel skin and discard before using.
For the spices: toast star anise and cloves in a dry sauté pan over medium heat until fragrant. Cool slightly and wrap in cheesecloth. Set aside.
For those with electric or convection cooktops, ginger and onions can be placed directly on the burner for the same effect. A crème bruleé torch can also be used.
Assemble two stockpots, one large and one medium. In the large stockpot, bring six quarts of water to a boil.
Place the beef bones and chuck in the medium stockpot and cover with water. Bring to a rolling boil and boil for five minutes. This first step removes impurities from the beef and helps you create a clear broth.
Remove the bones and beef with tongs and place in the large stockpot, discarding water from medium stockpot.
When the water returns to a boil, simmer for about 20 minutes, skimming fat and foam that rises to the top. Add charred ginger, charred onion, fish sauce, and sugar, then simmer for about 40 minutes until beef is tender (continue to skim the surface periodically). Remove beef, cutting it in half. Place half back in the pot, and the other half in a bowl of cold water for ten minutes. After ten minutes, remove from water and cut into thin slices (set aside for serving).
After about 90 minutes of simmering, add spice bag and allow to simmer and infuse the broth for about 30 minutes. Remove spice bag and onions, discarding both, then continue to simmer, skimming constantly. Add salt and cook for a total of at least two hours (the longer the better).
Remove bones and beef and discard. Strain broth through cheesecloth. At this point, the broth can be cooled and kept for later serving. It can also be frozen.
Garnishes
One package rice sticks, prepared according to package directions
Raw beef sirloin, frozen and then thinly sliced across the grain
Yellow onion, thinly sliced
Scallions, green part only, sliced into rings
Bean sprouts
Lime wedges
Asian basil (or regular basil if Asian basil is not available)
Chopped cilantro
Assembly
Bring broth back to a rolling boil. If you have cooled it completely or frozen the broth, refresh with two or three pieces of fresh ginger.
Warm soup bowls with boiling water.
Assemble all of your garnishes. If you are having friends over, place all garnishes out and allow them to add what they like.
General guidelines for assembly combine cooked beef with raw ingredients that get cooked with the hot broth. Start with prepared noodles in the bottom of the bowl. Add a few pieces of cooked beef chuck and a few slices of raw sirloin. Ladle boiling soup on top of noodles and serve with large bowls of fresh onion, scallions, and herbs. Make slurping sounds and be prepared for not much talking.
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.