Ridiculously easy summer veggie tart

Too much summer squash arriving in your CSA box or growing in your garden? After trying out this recipe, you just might stop trying to foist your excess zucchini on neighbors... and start impressing them with your baking skills. I've made this twice in the past week! Here is the recipe, modified from the one on Food52.com.

Summer Squash Tart

INGREDIENTS

Whole Wheat Pastry Crust

• 1 1/2 cups whole wheat pastry flour
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 1 tsp sugar
• 1 stick (8 TBSP) cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
• 3 TBSP ice cold water - I actually measured 3 TBSP cold tap water, then added an ice cube and put the cup in the freezer as I was gathering the remaining ingredients

Tart Filling

• 5 ounces fresh ricotta cheese (about a third of a pint sized container)
• Freshly grated zest of 1 lemon
• Juice from 1/2 lemon (1-2 TBSP)
• a mix of small summer squashes, sliced into thin coins (about 1-1.5 cups worth)
• a few sprigs of fresh thyme
• Drizzle of extra-virgin olive oil (2 teaspoons)
• Pinch of smoked paprika
• A dusting of freshly grated Parmesan cheese

RIDICULOUSLY EASY DIRECTIONS

Preheat the oven to 425F.

Add the flour, salt, baking powder and sugar to a deep bowl and mix well with your hand to combine. 

Scatter the pre-chopped, cold butter pieces over the dry ingredients and rub together quickly with your fingertips, until it forms a sandy-looking texture with some pebble-sized pieces. 

Sprinkle the cold water over the mixture and mix gently with a fork or your fingers until the dough comes together. Mine never really formed a "ball," but I did make sure there were no big globs of butter and no pockets of dry flour. The important thing is to work quickly so the dough doesn't get too warm and mushy.

Plop chunks of dough into a 10-inch tart pan with a removable bottom, and press them around to form a crust. No rolling pin needed! It doesn't need to look perfect, just a somewhat uniform thickness that goes up the edges of the tart pan.

Now let's get started on your filling... Stir the ricotta and lemon zest together in your bowl. Go on, use the same one from the dough, there's no need to create extra dishes here! Spread the mixture into a thin layer on top of the dough. It's starting to look pretty good, right? Oh, just wait....

Next, toss the squash slices in the bowl -- yes, that same bowl! -- with the lemon juice and olive oil. Place them in a pretty pattern single layer on top of the ricotta, overlapping the edges a bit.

Pick the leaves off the stems of your thyme (imagine the motion of a firefighter sliding down a pole - ha!) and sprinkle the leaves over the squash, along with the paprika, and finally the Parmesan. 

Bake your tart for 20 minutes, then cool to room temperature, slice, and enjoy. Sorry there are no photos of the finished tart, we ate it too quickly... both times!

This dish will keep in the fridge for a few days... in the unlikely event of leftovers. I think you could swap in lots of other tasty summer veggies, too: eggplants or tomatoes would make for lovely variations, just mind the extra liquid these more moist veggies give off when they cook.

Down in the dumplings

I adore dumplings. I haven't been able to get them out of my head since Matt and I ate some, what, two weeks ago from Copycat. My landlady, Jacky, has a soft spot for them, too. So when an opportunity arose this week to participate in a free Slow Food Live streaming session on how to make proper Chinese dumplings led by a Boston-area chef who recently authored Double Awesome Chinese Food, you can bet we signed up.

As a food educator myself, I really enjoyed learning from a good instructor. Mei Li was a lovely teacher -- a funny and patient mom who smiled as a pack of novice dumpling makers from around the country hung on her every word for how to make simple, perfect dough and tried our hands -- literally -- at making our own little morsels of pillowy deliciousness. Really, it's just flour and hot water? Amazing. I especially loved that the chef herself demonstrated how she made beautiful but imperfectly sized dumplings, and Jacky and I were both encouraged by the fact that she successfully made these dumplings with her four-year-old from time to time, using whatever filling ingredients she had on hand. Corn, beans, and pre-roasted squash, say, or ground lamb and curry spices. Our dumplings were filled with a finely chopped mix of the contents of my vegetable drawer: red cabbage, carrots, shiitakes, ginger, and green garlic. Delish! Round two was filled with the veg mix plus some minced chicken and hot sauce. Also delish! (Don't shake your head at me, of course there was a round two!)

Tasty and so quick to make! I think the longest part of the process was letting the dough rest for 30 minutes before rolling it out and filling it. (I was convinced a handful of times during that thirty-minute eternity that enough time had passed, but luckily Jacky was actually watching the clock and wouldn't let me start handling our dough until a full half hour had passed. It was worth the wait.) Here's how to make your own, based on our slightly floured, handwritten notes:

Basic Dumplings

Makes about 24 dumplings

Ingredients

• 2 cups flour (we did 1 cup each of white and whole wheat), plus a few TBSP for rolling out dough
• 1 cup just-boiled water
• 2 cups or so of whatever filling you have around, mashed or finely chopped, such as...
  traditional potstickers: cooked shrimp or shredded pork with mushrooms and scallion
  vegetarian: mixed veggies with ginger and garlic
  southern: leftover fried chicken with hot sauce
  polish: mashed potatoes with cooked onions and shredded cheese
• dipping sauce: we used a few tsp soy sauce + 1/2 tsp freshly minced ginger

Directions

Use a wooden spoon to combine flour with 3/4 cup hot water in a medium bowl. Stir until most of the flour comes together into a crumbly dough, adding more hot water as needed, 1 TBSP at a time. Once it is cool enough to handle, gently knead it with your hands until it forms a soft ball that feels "like a baby's butt." Don't roll your eyes at me, I can't help that it's an accurate description! Cover the bowl with a damp kitchen towel and let dough rest for 30 minutes.

Meanwhile, gather/chop/cook your filling. Seriously, the world is your oyster here, people, clean out your fridge!

After your dough has rested for the requisite 30 minutes, divide it into 4 sections.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out one section at a time into a fat worm, keeping the remaining sections of dough in the towel-covered bowl to keep them moist.

Cut each dough worm into 6-8 little marshmallow-sized blobs.

Roll out each marshmallow until it is a thin, roughly circular pancake -- say 3-5" in diameter. These are your dumpling wrappers. I would only roll out one or two at a time, so they don't start sticking to your counter or cutting board. Or you can commiserate with a co-chef, as I did, with one of us rolling out dough and the other filling/sealing dumplings.

Holding one dumpling wrapper in one hand, use a spoon in your other hand to scoop a teaspoon or two of filling into the center of your dumpling wrapper, Fold the two sides together, as if making a taco, and pinch the edges together. You may need to wet the inner edges of the dumpling to get them to stick. (Our dough was still nice and moist so we didn't need to do this, but I've had to use water in the past when sealing dumplings.) Now you have your dumplings ready to cook or freeze!

Mei Li showed us how to steam fry our dumplings, which is my favorite way to have them: heat just a splash of oil in a heavy pan (we used cast iron) until it shimmers, over medium heat, and add a half dozen dumplings. Once the bottoms have browned, carefully pour in 1/2 cup of water and quickly cover. Check after a couple of minutes -- if the water has all evaporated, let the dumplings cook for another minute or two to crisp up the bottoms and then put them on your plate drizzled with your ginger soy sauce. You can start steam frying the next batch while you enjoy the first one.

Easy, right? Okay, fine, if you want tips on fancy dumpling folding, you can order a copy of the Double Awesome Chinese Food cookbook. I think Jacky already did....

I dream of chocolate

I might have just made the best chocolate ice cream I have ever eaten. I might have to go vegan after today. Nothing will ever be as good as the ice cream I licked off my fingers as I scraped the last of the milk chocolate custard from the edges of my churn.

Sure, I'll get to the recipe -- that's why most of you are here, I imagine, especially during these days of social isolation that naturally result in more of us spending more time in the kitchen than usual -- but first, I feel you need a bit of context. You see, it's my boyfriend's birthday and he LOVES ice cream cake. And I don't mean fancy, high end ice cream cake. I mean grocery store ice cream cake. (Don't shake your head at me. He's awfully cute and charming, and in my defense I didn't know about his occasional habit of eating a half of an chocolate ice cream pie in a single sitting until after I was properly smitten. Luckily he bikes a lot to burn it off.)

So anyway, I was talking with my cousin a little while ago and mentioned that I wanted to try making an ice cream cake for Matt's birthday. Sonia is one of the best baker/confectioners on the planet, so when she suggested I check out some of the recipes on the Smitten Kitchen blog, I did. I believe I managed to find the most elaborate ice cream cake out there. It involves baking cookies and then crumbling them to make the base. And that was just the crust! Two different flavors of homemade frozen custard, from-scratch fudge sauce, freshly whipped cream... that woman is my kind of crazy.

I will spare you the gory details of me trying to secure things like 6 cups of heavy whipping cream in the midst of what seems like a run on all things baking at my local supermarket. Suffice to say, I got most of what i needed for the hot fudge sundae cake. It turned out pretty well, no?

Those are mini peanut butter cups on top. It is the only ingredient I didn't make from scratch. (I know, it seems like a cop out at the end, but did I tell you about the decimated baking aisle at Whole Foods? There was no chocolate to be found. As it was, I had to dip into my emergency chocolate stash at home to have enough for the fudge sauce.) Anyway, while I did have cherries at home to top the ice cream sundae cake, peanut butter cups seemed more Matt-like, and it's his birthday after all.

Thanks for sitting through that backstory. Or at least discreetly skimming through it to get to the recipe. Here it is. I suggest you take up a robust workout regimen before embarking on making this -- let's just say it's a bit rich. I've adapted it here so that it's just the chocolate ice cream part of the Smitten Kitchen recipe. 

Milk Chocolate Frozen Custard

(Makes 1 quart + an extra cup or two*)

Ingredients

• 2 1/2 cups heavy cream
• 3 Tablespoons cocoa powder
• 6-ish ounces milk chocolate pieces
• 1 1/4 cups whole milk
• 3/4 cup white sugar
• pinch of salt
• 6 egg yolks
• 1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Directions

Put 1 cup of cream and the cocoa powder in a medium pot, whisking to thoroughly blend the cocoa. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer at a very low boil for 30 seconds, whisking constantly. Remove from the heat and add the chopped chocolate, stirring until smooth. Then stir in the remaining 1 1/2 cups cream. Try to resist the urge to just start eating this chocolate cream base. The final product is worth the wait, I promise.

Warm the milk, sugar, and salt in another medium pot, then transfer to a spouted liquid measuring cup. Whisk together egg yolks in the cooled pot. Slowly pour in warm milk/sugar/salt mixture, whisking constantly. Cook mixture over medium-low heat, stirring constantly and scraping the bottom with a wooden spoon until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of the spoon.

Pour the custard through the strainer and whisk it into chocolate cream until smooth, then stir in the vanilla.

Chill in the fridge for a full day or overnight. You want it fully chilled before churning in your ice cream maker.

Churn your chilled chocolate custard according to the ice cream machine manufacturer's directions. In most cases, ice cream is churned for 30 minutes then transferred to a container to finish in freezer, but if you like soft serve grab your spoon and get in there after the ice cream thickens a bit.

Enjoy your homemade scoop of chocolate heaven!

(*If you are comparing my recipe to the original, you may notice I used more that half of the original custard base for the ice cream cake in the chocolate ice cream. What can I say, Matt and I prefer chocolate to vanilla ice cream. And I may have set aside about a cup and a half of chocolate ice cream for another surprise later.)

Instant Love

I'm not going to lie, readers: I normally prefer slow food to fast food. Take beans, for instance. Dry beans soaked overnight and then simmered are SO much better than their canned brethren in terms of nutrition, texture, cost, weight (hey, I'm biking these things from the store), and flavor. Sure, sometimes I do grab a can of garbanzos for convenience, but my preference is to invest in the long game. Anything claiming to be "instant" or "quick and easy" is likely to elicit an eye roll from me at best, and sometimes outright scorn.

Well. This December, my favorite cousin, Sonia, gave me an InstantPot for my birthday. (Sorry to all of you other cousins out there reading this, I love you, too.) I'd been hearing about these contraptions of convenience for many months, not only from Sonia but also from interns and parents at my school. Rave reviews all around. I was, of course, very suspicious. Also, I harbor a lifelong fear of kitchen gadgets that might explode and destroy part of my person or house. Pressure cookers fall into this category. (If you've been following this blog for any length of time, you may recall me cowering behind my friend Mike the first time we used his pressure canner back in 2010.)

Well, yesterday morning I woke up hours before my alarm (again). Annoyed to be up before sunrise, I did what any normal foodie would do. I made granola. Also, I was looking for a way to use up 4 cups of oats and not make many dozens of oatmeal cookies since I don't eat a lot of cookies and I am not getting nearly as much exercise as I am used to. Plus, I still have half of a pineapple cake my landlady made me taking up the valuable fridge real estate, so it couldn't be anything requiring refrigeration. But I digress.

Last night, I got to thinking: what goes well with granola? Yogurt! And I am pretty much stuck in my house all day and night, so why not make the yogurt, too? [Cue the sidelong glance across the room at the InstantPot.]

The booklet it came with had a yogurt recipe, but it was a little vague. I don't want to screw up and waste a half gallon of milk nor do I want to blow myself up by accident. (See above,) I looked online for reassurance and wouldn't you know that everyone makes their yogurt differently, and has very emphatic instructions about how to make it the best way. Also, everyone had different opinions on how and when to remove the lid, in some cases while the InstantPot was on(!), so I ended up using my best judgement after all and just going for it. Here is how I made my batch, that came out to almost 4 full pint jars:

Instant Pot Yogurt

• 2 quarts whole milk
• 1 large spoonful of plain yogurt of your choice
• Sprinkle of sugar

Pour milk into a heavy saucepan and bring to a boil. Turn the stove off immediately and let milk cool to 110-120F.

Whisk in your scoop of yogurt and sugar. This is your yogurt "starter." (Honestly, some recipes called for 1/2 cup yogurt to 1 quart of milk; other recipes called for 2 Tablespoons of yogurt to 1/2 gallon of milk. People!!) I added just a bit of sugar because I am a homebrewer and when you have a yeast starter for making beer you always sprinkle in a little sugar. Not a cupful, you sugar fiends, just a sprinkle to keep the healthy bacteria in your yogurt happy. It;s still meant to be a tart yogurt.

Divide your milk/yogurt mixture among 4 pint jars, but do not put on the lids. Put filled jars into Instant Pot's inner, metal bowl, then add a cup or two of water to create your water bath for the jars. Just so we are clear here, though the jars are uncovered, the water does not go into the jars, it goes into the metal inner pot of the Instant Pot. Try not to spill water into the jars.

Secure the lid on the Instant Pot, then choose the Yogurt function. It should flash 8:00 (meaning 8 hours). Press Start. The timer will start counting up. Your yogurt will be done in 8+ hours. I made mine overnight, removed my freshly made jars of yogurt, put a lid on each, and popped them in the fridge. After tasting it, of course.

I ate a couple of mounded spoonfuls right out of the first jar, and then stirred a bit of it into my breakfast borscht -- what, I've been cooking a lot. Delish!!

I think I will stir it into some of that cinnamonny, cardamommy granola from yesterday for my snack later. Yeah, I know, it'll take up some of that precious fridge real estate, but you know what: it's worth it. And it basically takes up the same amount of space as the milk bottle did.

(Don't have an InstaPot? Don't fret. You can also make yogurt with a space heater, blanket, and cutting board like this.)

Girl Scouts, Improved

It's been a bit lonely around the apartment, with Matt in Nepal for work. But I've been making the best of it, mostly by deep cleaning the refrigerator and cooking up a storm. Today, my kitchen has been filled with delicious -- if incongruous -- smells of chickpea curry, roasted broccoli, various kinds of homemade pickles, and my test batch of spent grain thin mint cookies.

What? Thin mints?? Made with spent grain?! Yes. With my Oktoberfest party coming up in a couple of weeks, I figured it was time to start testing some festive new recipes.

Now, don't get your lederhosen in a bunch trying to explain to me how girl scout cookies aren't authentically German. I know that. Neither is spicy pickled okra, but both are on the menu for Oktoberfest. And if you're coming to the party you will be glad I am departing from the traditional kraut-pickle-sausage-pretzel regimen (though all of these will be represented as well). The cookies turned out so well it is only because I really like my landlady that I have decided to share some tonight while we catch up on the latest John Oliver....

For your baking pleasure, I offer this easy recipe, courtesy of The Brooklyn Brewery's delicious Mash recipe blog:

Spent Grain Thin Mints

Ingredients
Cookies

• 1 stick of butter, room temp
• 1/2 cup of sugar
• 1/2 cup Dutch cocoa powder
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/4 teaspoon coarse salt
• 3/4 cups Spent Grain Flour

Frosting

• 8 ounces dark chocolate, chopped (a half block of Trader Joe's Belgian dark baking chocolate, in this case)
• 1 teaspoon mint extract (or use 1/4 teaspoon mint essential oil) 
• 2 tablespoons butter 

Directions
Preheat oven to 350F.

Beat butter and sugar together until creamy. Add in cocoa powder, salt, and vanilla and mix until well combined. Fold in the flour 1/4 cup at a time until fully incorporated. Using your hands, form dough into a disk. (If super sticky, put in the freezer for 5 minutes to chill. This will give you time to lick the eggbeater and wash some dishes.)



Roll out dough on a floured work surface (and with a floured rolling pin) pretty thin, @ 1/8" thickness. Using a circle-shaped cookie cutter cut out dough and place on parchment-lined baking sheet.



Depending on the size of your cookies, bake for 8-10 minutes. (They are thin mints, so they bake quickly. Be careful not to burn them!) Carefully transfer cookies to wire rack and let cool completely.

In a double boiler (or a heat proof bowl over a pot), melt your frosting ingredients: chocolate, mint extract, and butter. Carefully dip cookie in melted chocolate, flip to fully coat and remove with a fork. Return to lined baking sheet and repeat for all cookies. Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes to set chocolate coating.



Just try not to eat them all in one sitting. They are FABULOUS.

Oh? The stuffed dragon? That's Werner. I needed a little help with some key parts of the process. I'm hopeful Matt will be around for the actual baking for the party itself. I'm going to need to buy more chocolate. And more milk for dunking.

I didn't even know I needed that!

Some women, I am told, have trouble walking out of a shoe store without purchasing 3 new pairs of heels. Others find themselves with closets overflowing with blouses or handbags or sexy underwear. Me, I seem to have a problem wandering around hardware stores unmonitored....

Earlier today I went into the ACE Hardware up the street. I had a clear mission: I needed new burner liners for my electric stove. It turned out that they didn't have enough of the kind of liners I needed, and while I waited for the friendly gentleman at the shop to put in my request to order some I perused the aisles. You know, just looking around. I ended up leaving 10 minutes later with one burner liner... and a box of small-mouth jar lids... and a Ball-jar citrus juicer attachment. What a cool gadget!! Obviously I had to go home immediately to whip up a couple of Boulevardiers for me and Jacky. You know, test out how well the juicer juiced.

One of the coolest things about my new juicer is that once you're done juicing you can add in the booze and ice, screw on a regular lid, and shake up your drink. No fancy cocktail shaker needed! (I have one of those, too, though.) In case you want to try one of my favorite cocktails of late, here's the recipe for a version I made last year on Valentine's Day (before Matt, my boyfriend of almost a year at that point, admitted that he didn't actually like bitter cocktails -- I love them, and him.)

Blood Orange Boulevardier(courtesy of the Washington Post Food Section)

• 1 shot fresh orange juice -- I like blood orange for the color, but any orange will do
• 1 shot campari
• 1 shot bourbon
• 1 shot sweet vermouth

Combine in a jar or shaker with a few ice cubes. Shake well. Pour into a glass and enjoy.

American Pie

What could be more American than apple pie on Thanksgiving? Readers, you know that I am more of a cook than a baker, so when I got so many compliments on the pie I made this year at mom and dad's house it inspired me to get back to blogging after a few months off. I need to make this again.

The crust is adapted from the Foolproof Pie Crust recipe in Cooks Illustrated, courtesy of my neighbor, Marilyn -- one of the best bakers I've ever met, which is the sole reason I set aside my long-standing bias against all-purpose flour and shortening to try it out. See, I'm not a purist! The pie filling and baking instructions are adapted from Epicurious' Favorite Apple Pie recipe.

The pie itself resulted from a group effort: my landlady, Jacky, supplied some of the ingredients, including delicious Cortland apples from her recent trip to upstate New York; mom did serious KP duty peeling, coring, and slicing the apples; Matt mixed up the pie filling ingredients, with extra cinnamon for good measure (or perhaps a lack of looking closely at the measuring spoons); dad supplied the butter pecan ice cream to top our still-warm pie during the Thanksgiving dinner.

American Apple Pie
Ingredients

2 ½ cups + 1/4 cup unbleached all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon table salt
2 Tablespoons sugar
12 Tablespoons cold, unsalted butter (1 1/2 sticks), cut into 1 Tablespoon slices
½ cup chilled solid vegetable shortening, cut into 4 pieces
¼ cup vodka, cold
¼ cup ice cold water
5 large fresh apples
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
Additional sugar, for sprinkling

Directions

Process 1 1/2 cups flour, salt, and sugar in food processor until combined, about 2 one-second pulses. Add butter and shortening and process until homogeneous dough just starts to collect in uneven clumps, about 15 seconds (dough will resemble cottage cheese curds and there should be no uncoated flour). Scrape bowl with rubber spatula and redistribute dough evenly around processor blade. Add 1 more cup of flour and pulse until mixture is evenly distributed around the bowl and any masses of dough have been broken up -- this will only take a few quick pulses. Empty mixture into medium mixing bowl.

Sprinkle vodka and 1/4 cup ice water over mixture. With a rubber spatula, use a folding motion to mix in the liquids, pressing down on dough until dough is slightly tacky and sticks together. Pat dough into two evenly sized balls, flatten each to about 1" tall discs, and wrap each in a piece of parchment paper or wax paper. Chill your piecrust dough discs in the fridge for at least 30 minutes (and up to 2 days).

Preheat the oven to 425°F.

Peel, core, and slice the apples into 1/4" thick wedges. Place apples in a large bowl and mix with 1/4 cup flour, 1/3 cup sugar, 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon, 1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg, 1/4 teaspoon salt, and 2 Tablespoons of freshly squeezed lemon juice. (Matt lobbied for more cinnamon. He got it.)

Unwrap the first ball of piecrust dough. Sprinkle with a little flour and use a rolling pin to roll it out into a uniformly thick circle that is about an inch wider than the pie dish on all sides. (You can eyeball the size, or place the pie dish on top of it to check.) Gently lift the dough, then flip into the pie dish and gently peel back the paper. Gently press the dough to fit the pie dish contours, then trim the excess dough using scissors. Fill the dough-lined pan with the apple mixture.

Take out and lightly flour the second disc of piecrust dough on its piece of parchment paper, then roll it out to the same size as the first. Drape your top crust gently atop the apple mixture, again peeling away the parchment paper, then press the edges of the top and bottom crusts together, trimming excess crust as needed. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg and milk. Brush top crust with egg wash and sprinkle with coarse sugar.

Carefully cut five 1" vents in the top crust for steam to escape.

Gently cover the delicate crust edges with aluminum foil -- this prevents them from burning.

Place pie in the oven and bake until the crust begins to turn golden, about 20 minutes. Rotate pie and reduce oven temperature to 350°F. Continue baking until the crust is golden brown and you can see the thickened juices bubbling, about 50 minutes more.

Cool on a rack for at least 45 minutes to allow juices to set before slicing. Delish. I just had the last slice with coffee this morning....

Duck Duck Soup

Nothing warms the soul quite like hot soup on a cold day. And while yesterday was rather temperate for late November, we've definitely had some soup weather in DC in recent weeks. So when dad sent me home with some leftover duck meat the day after Thanksgiving, and with our country's leader currently making a mess of things, duck soup sounded just about right.

What's that? Oh, yeah, since there were only four of us at this year's annual poultry extravaganza, and since mom and I are partial to duck, we opted for a turkey-less thanksgiving. Before you sputter something about how skipping turkey on Thanksgiving is unAmerican, let me direct your attention to the delicious concoction I just ate for dinner:

Duck Avgolemono Soup

Ingredients

• 1 TBSP butter
• a few glugs of olive oil
• 1 carrots, diced
• 2-3 celery stalks, diced
• 1/2 red onion + 3 small leeks, diced
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 4 cups good vegetable broth
• 2 bay leaves
• 1/4 cup brown rice, uncooked
• 3 lemons worth of freshly-squeezed lemon juice
• 2 large eggs
• 1 large handful leftover duck meat, chopped into small (1/2") chunks
• 2 large handfuls fresh spinach, finely chopped
• Salt and pepper

Directions

Warm butter and olive oil in a medium pot. Stir in carrot, celery, and onion -- you've now got a fragrant mirepoix. (Go on and use that fancy culinary French vocab, aspiring cooks!) Stir in garlic, then broth.

Bring pot to a boil, stir in rice, and then turn the head down and let things simmer for about 30 minutes, until the rice is tender.

In a small bowl or measuring cup, whisk together lemon juice and eggs. Then, slowly and carefully -- SLOWLY, I mean it! -- whisk about a half cup of warm broth in a thin stream into the lemon egg mixture. Now your lemon egg mixture is tempered, which will keep it from curdling. (You're welcome for that other fancy cooking vocab word.)

Slowly, whisk your tempered lemon egg mixture into the main soup pot, stir in duck and spinach, and season with salt and pepper to taste. Once the duck is warmed through, which should only take about a minute or two, dish it out into bowls and enjoy. This recipe makes enough for two large bowls of soup. And I'm ready for my second bowl....

Shukran

About a month ago, my friend Vera (from our, ahem, award-winning WIC challenge team) contacted me about doing a middle eastern cooking class for her cultural exchange program, Oye Palaver Hut. "Sure," I said, "but the person you really want to lead this thing and talk about Iraqi food and Middle Eastern culture is my dad. Can he come, too?" If only Vera knew ahead of time that she'd be meeting her storytelling match....

A couple of weeks ago, dad and I started brainstorming recipes we could make with the group of 6-8 families in an hour or so. Dolma? Too complicated. Baklava? Too stressful. Even though technically the national dish of Iraq is probably bamja (okra stew with meat), shalgham (turnip curry) has always been my favorite traditional Iraqi dish.

Mom and dad came over last night so we could pre-make the shalgham and hummus. Dad also brought along ingredients for a few of my favorite traditional Iraqi veggie dishes -- fassoulia (stewed white beans in tomato sauce) and khedra (stewed green beans) -- and plenty of basmati rice, all of which we would be making during the class itself. My gentleman friend Matt and landlady Jacky were also in attendance, and jumped right in to help with chopping and keeping wine glasses filled -- both key tasks during a Vincent cooking session. Things went pretty smoothly until I sliced by thumb with an impressively sharp knife. No biggie, I put on a band-aid and we kept working. Then after a few glasses of wine, we realized that the fancy halal lamb meant to fill out the shalgham was still sitting in my parents' fridge in Northern Virginia, so there was a little side trip to my local Whole Foods. A little after 9pm, which, incidentally, is not overly late in the Arab dining world, we sat down to a delicious meal, followed by a platter of baked goodies and coffee. Not a bad Friday night.

This morning, dad swung by around 9:45 to whisk me and the ingredients and equipment for our Iraqi feast to Northeast DC, where we'd be teaching. Slowly kiddos and their parents trickled in, beginning around 11:00. By noon, things were in full swing, with dad talking it up to a rapt audience while 4 pots simmered on the gas burners and cameras and microphones captured his every word. The kids, to their credit, jumped right in, eager to help with the chopping and stirring, the adding of spices and tasting of things along the way. At the end, we all enjoyed our feast together, then dad wrote out everyone's name in Arabic calligraphy. I helped to wash up while dad led the group in a little Arabic line dancing. He was in his element, as mom would say.

I think a girl and her dad could get used to this. Well, maybe without the filming -- I get a little shy.

Anyway, it's high time I included my favorite dish of dad's on this blog. Seems fitting just a few weeks before Father's Day. Maybe you can make a pot of this for your dad....

Turnips (shalgham) with Lamb
This recipe makes enough for 10 people. Also delicious made with chicken or pork.

Ingredients
5-6 medium size turnips (tennis ball size)
2 lbs boneless lamb, cubed (leg or shoulder of lamb)
1 small can tomato paste
3-4 tomatoes, chopped (or 1 can stewed tomatoes)
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 medium onion, chopped
3-4 dried red chili peppers (or 1 tsp crushed red pepper)
1 TBSP date syrup (or molasses or maple syrup)
1 TBSP fresh lemon juice
Salt and pepper, to taste

Directions
In a large pot, heat 3 TBS olive oil. Saute garlic and onions 3 or 4 minutes.

Add lamb and cook 5 minutes. Stir occasionally.

Add turnips and cook an additional 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Add tomato paste and follow with chopped tomatoes. Add 1 cup water, or more, as needed and stir.

Add syrup and follow with lemon juice and red peppers.

Bring to boil, lower heat to medium and cook for at least 1 hour, stirring occasionally.

After one hour, taste, and if necessary, add any of the ingredients as necessary to get the right balance of sweet, spicy, sour, and bitter. Salt and pepper to round up flavor.

The spent grain baker

I love everything about brewing beer. The way it perfumes my kitchen. The happy memories of my first experiences homebrewing with a former partner in his tiny little Brooklyn apartment. The excuse to gather friends together to make a 5-gallon batch, and the sitting around and laughing and cooking and eating it always entails. (The cleanup can sometimes be a pain, especially when a stovetop boilover happens, but it's a small price to pay. Plus I already spend half of my professional life washing, drying, and organizing dishes, so what's another few hours on the weekend?)

In recent years, I've found one of my favorite parts of brewing is figuring out what to do with the spent grain after it comes out of the wort. Sure, I could compost it -- a perfectly acceptable means of disposing of it -- but instead I save up my gluten chits (yes, I am still trying to cut down on it) for brewing days because I know there is going to be some spent grain baking involved. Even since my favorite spent grain recipe source -- the Brooklyn Mash -- took down their website, I have not been deterred. Just had to get more creative on my own. This time around, we made some spent grain biscotti that was, according to various taste testers, pretty stellar. So much so that one of my foodie brewing friends asked for the recipe! So, here it is....

Lemon Almond Biscotti
Adapted from Country Living Magazine. Though it might seem like an unusual flavor combination, the mix of bright citrus and smooth, grassy olive oil works incredibly well in these classic Italian cookies. Makes 48 biscotti, or so. Best dunked in your morning coffee.

Ingredients
1 cup spent grain flour
1½ cups whole wheat pastry flour
1 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 cup plain almonds, chopped
2 large eggs
1 cup sugar
½ cup olive oil
Zest of 2 lemons
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 bar dark chocolate, melted, for drizzling
sea salt for sprinkling

Directions

In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

Preheat oven to 350F.

Stir together eggs, sugar, olive oil, lemon zest, and vanilla. Gradually add flour mixture and mix until dough just begins to come together. Do not overmix. Stir in nuts.

Divide dough into 2 equal pieces and place on a parchment-lined baking sheet. Using damp hands, shape each piece into a 12" long log, 1/2" high.

Bake logs until firm, about 28 minutes, rotating baking sheets halfway through. Reduce oven temperature to 250F. Cool logs on baking sheet for 12-15 minutes.

Transfer logs to a cutting board. Using a serrated knife, slice cooled logs into 1/2" thick biscotti. Place biscotti back on parchment-lined baking sheets, with a tiny bit of space between each slice, and bake until until slightly crisp, about 14 minutes, rotating baking sheets halfway through.

Transfer to a wire rack to cool. Drizzle with melted chocolate, then sprinkle with sea salt. Refrigerate to set chocolate.

Will keep in a sealed container in the fridge for... well, the record for not eating them is two days, so at least that long.

The pink pantsuit

Readers, you know I try to leave national politics out of this blog, but after recent comments from a certain presidential candidate I find I can't keep quiet. Not just because one of the contenders for our nation's top job is likely to pave over the White House garden to build a Putin guest house. Our former secretary of state's response to the constant stream of insults and outright harassment was nicer than mine would have been under the circumstances. Heck, even Will Shakespeare might've broken out a line from Alls Well that Ends Well during that last debate, countering,

"A most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise breaker, the owner of no one good quality."

I love Shakespeare. I also love old friends and tasty cocktails. As fate would have it, my friend and NYC Teaching Fellows mentor Colette was visiting last weekend. As we sat chatting after a great visit and lunch at the new African American museum, I learned that along with a few "nasty woman" buttons, Colette had brought with her a new cocktail recipe from her favorite Brooklyn mixologist.

Of course Jacky and I couldn't wait to have one, so after a quick run to the liquor store and the Whole Foods, Colette got to work:

Tart, strong, and brightly colored like its namesake, I give you...

The Nasty Woman (Or, my rename: The Pink Pantsuit)

Ingredients

150 ml tart cherry juice (preferably cold pressed)
100 ml white tequila
50 ml fresh lime juice
50 ml simple syrup

Directions

Stir all ingredients together, then divide among 3 ice-filled glasses.

It scales up rather well, so you can make a whole pitcher and watch the election results with friends....

Soup weather

I've been daydreaming about miso and mushrooms and ginger ever since my friend Jonathan's mushroom-laden dinner party last May, and have been making pretty regular batches of a simple, clear soup using brown rice miso, baby ginger, lotsa garlic, and shiitake mushrooms whenever I get hit with seasonal allergies... which in our nation's tempestuous weather capital is every few weeks. This recipe -- which came about when Robin, who directs the farmers market at 14&U, suggested I make a warming soup at the market this weekend -- is a bit more sophisticated, and is heavily based on one I saw in The NY Times a handful of months ago.

I've not been digging on soy as much lately, so I opted to replace the tofu with some Asian greens and butternut squash, which give it a different flavor and texture. It is still savory, warming, and delicious. Yes, even when you don't have the sniffles. I'm making another batch of the dashi right now and it smells like heaven....

Miso Mushroom Soup

Ingredients

Dashi (aka soup base)

• 2 4-inch pieces of kombu (available at Whole Foods -- who knew!)
• 1 handful dried oyster mushrooms, chopped (MYCOlumbia Mushroom has good ones)
• 3 teaspoons tamari, or soy sauce
• 2 teaspoons mirin
• 2 Tablespoons sake
• 2 teaspoons sugar

Soup

• 1/2 pound fresh oyster mushrooms, chopped into bite-sized pieces
• 2 teaspoons sesame oil
• 2 teaspoons tamari
• 2 cloves fresh garlic, minced
• 1-2 teaspoons fresh baby ginger, minced
•  Salt and pepper
• 3 Tablespoons white miso
• 1 bunch bok choy or tatsoi, chopped into bite-size pieces
• 1 cup butternut squash, peeled and chopped into small (1/2") pieces
• optional garnish: a few shallots, thinly sliced and fried

Directions

Make the dashi: Put kombu, dried shiitakes, soy sauce, mirin, sake and sugar in a large soup pot. Add 6 cups cold water.

Place over medium heat, allow the liquid to barely reach a boil, then reduce heat to low and let cook at a very slow simmer for about 30 minutes. Skim foam as necessary.

Let cool to room temperature. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve and add salt to taste. (I figured it would be much easier to use dashi at the farmers market if it was pre-made and cooled, and transported to the market in a few tightly sealed quart jars.)

Put the sliced mushrooms in a bowl and drizzle with sesame oil and soy sauce. Add garlic and ginger and season with salt and pepper. Toss and let marinate for 10 minutes.

Meanwhile, put dashi in a large soup pot over medium-high heat and bring to a simmer. Stir in bok choy and butternut, and cook for 15 minutes, until butternut is tender.

Add mushroom mixture to soup and cook gently for about 5 minutes, until the mushrooms are just tender.

Remove 1/2 cup hot broth from pot and place in a small bowl. Stir in miso to dilute, then return miso-broth mixture to the pot. Taste and adjust seasoning. Once the miso has been added, do not let the soup boil.

Serve warm, with fried shallots on top as an optional -- but delicious -- garnish.

Pucker up

I'm not bitter, I just like drinks that are.

These days, I've found myself dabbling more in cocktails than beer -- not just because of the ill-fated rhubarb sour ale (R.I.P.), mind you, but because there are so many elements to play with, so many variations. One recent discovery was the leftovers from the sour cherry bitters I made this past July. I mean, I was NOT about to toss the quart of not inexpensive, organic, local sour cherries from the farmers market into the compost bin once they'd done their work. Turns out the spiked cherries left at the end perfectly balance what I thought had already been the perfect cocktail: a limoncello tonic. I love this kind of kitchen kismet.

What's that? You'd like to make your own? Well, you're going to have to do some serious work to find some of these ingredients, let me tell you. Even my friend who is a professional herbalist didn't have two of them on hand, and hadn't even heard of one of the ingredients.

Well, okay, readers, I like you, so I'll tell you about the source I discovered for all things herbal. What? No, not THAT kind of herbal... though it is legal in the District. I mean my buddy at Blue Nile Botanicals, in a basement shop tucked away where you'd never expect it on Georgia Avenue, who sells every herb and spice you can think of, including those some herbalists have never heard of.

(Goodness, I'm so excited I just ended a sentence with a preposition!) Before I digress even further, possibly sliding further down a slippery poor grammatical slope, here's the recipe, adapted from a recipe on the Serious Eats blog:

Sour Cherry Bitters

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups sour cherries, halved and pitted

1 cup Everclear (it's not just for campstoves any more)

1 whole star anise, crushed

1 teaspoon fennel seeds

3" stalk fresh lemongrass, cut in small pieces

1 vanilla bean, split and scraped

2 cardamom pods, crushed

1 teaspoon gentian root

1 teaspoon quassia chips

1 cup Bulleit rye whiskey

Directions

Put the cherries in a glass quart jar with 1/2 cup of Everclear. Shake. This is your cherry flavoring.

Put the anise, fennel, lemongrass, vanilla, and cardamom in a glass pint jar with remaining 1/2 cup Everclear. Shake. This is your spice mix.

Put the gentian root and quassia chips in yet another glass pint jar with the rye. Shake. This is your bittering mix.

Set all jars aside in a dark place at room temperature for 10 days.

Strain the spice mix and bittering mix through a fine-mesh sieve, removing solids, and into the cherry flavoring jar. Do not remove the cherries. Shake. You now have one jar that contains the strained spice mix and bittering mix along with the steeping cherries and alcohol.

Let this steep for an additional 2 weeks.

Strain out the cherries through a fine-mesh sieve, and then strain the rest through a coffee filter into the quart jar. (Save those cherries in the fridge for months, in a tight-lidded jar, and drop a couple in your limoncello tonics or any other cocktail that could use a bitter accent.)

Store your homemade sour cherry bitters in a dark place, at room temperature, for up to one year. It just might last that long, since you only use a couple drops in a cocktail. Oh, yeah, you'll want to buy an eyedropper for that because you're on your way to becoming an amateur mixologist. You're welcome.

Finally, a decent gluten-free cupcake!

A few weeks ago, I volunteered to make desserts for my friend Felicity's wedding shower. As she and I are both trying to cut down on our gluten intake, I decided to take another run at gluten-free baking. I mean, it's not like a wedding shower is a high pressure situation, suitable for a first attempt at a new recipe, right? ;) So I decided to make a few dozen mini peach tartlets and a couple dozen carrot cupcakes -- all gluten-free. And much to my delight, both came out deliciously. Things turned out so well, that I actually am whipping up another batch of cupcakes right now, which I'll be bringing to a pool party after work tomorrow. Just a dozen this time around.

Here, for your gluten-free recipe box, is a little something I adapted from the Divas Can Cook blog. I think even the decidedly un-diva-like Bugs Bunny would approve of these....

Gluten-free Carrot Cupcakes
Makes 1 dozen cupcakes

Ingredients

CUPCAKES

• 1/2 cup white sugar
• 1/4 cup brown sugar, packed
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• 1 egg + 1 egg yolk
• 1 cup all-purpose gluten-free flour
• 3/4 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp baking soda
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 1/4 cup buttermilk (or milk + a splash of white wine vinegar)
• 1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
• 1 1/2-2 cups carrots, finely shredded (I used a little over 2 cups)
• 1/4 cup coconut flakes, finely shredded

FROSTING

• 4 oz cream cheese, room temperature
• 2 TBSP butter, room temperature
• 1 cup confectioners sugar (may need more to thicken if desired)
• 1/2 tsp vanilla extract

Instructions

Preheat oven to 350 F. (Or if it's my not-so-great electric oven, 375F. Don't ask.)

Prep a dozen muffin tins with paper liners (or grease with a thin layer of butter, then dust with flour.)

In a large bowl beat oil, both sugars, and eggs. Set aside.

In a separate bowl whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.

Gradually add the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients, alternating with the buttermilk. Mix just until just combined.

Fold in shredded carrots, coconut flakes, and vanilla.

Pour batter into prepared muffin cups. (I used a 1/4 cup measure.)

Bake for 18-20 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center of a muffin comes out clean, then cool in baking pan on a wire rack on the counter.

Prepare the frosting by first creaming together the butter and cream cheese.

Add in the confectioners sugar and vanilla.

Mix until silky and creamy. Add more sugar if a thicker texture is needed.

When cupcakes, are cooled remove them from pans and frost.

Note: Unfrosted cupcakes will keep on the counter for 1-2 days, or in the fridge for a handful of days. Unfrosted cupcakes can be stored in the freezer for a couple of months.



Strawberry fields for a few weeks

What a cold and rainy early summer we've had here in the District, eh? I thought strawberry season might never happen. About three weeks ago, I finally started seeing strawberries at the farmers' market. Sadly, they were pretty bland. All that water. Meh. Two weeks ago, I tried again. Bah. Disappointing. And then I tasted a berry at the Twin Springs stand at the Dupont farmers' market last Sunday. I walked away with a whole quart for myself. Then I foolishly stopped to pick up a few more things on my way out of the market, and found myself with yet another quart of strawberries from Spring Valley's farmstand. Darn my lack of resistance. But I'm supporting local farmers, right? Right??

Right.

I ate probably about a pint of berries while I was rinsing and storing them Sunday afternoon. (What's that? Yes, I learned a new berry keeping trick from my gentleman friend, Harlan, recently. You rinse the berries in a solution that's 1 cup white vinegar and 2 cups cool water, blot the berries dry, and store them in a tupperware with a clean towel at the bottom. Rinse them with plain water just before you eat them. They last for a week. If you don't eat them all before then. My record since learning this trick is four days. So, about that lack of resistance....) I decided I would share this berry bounty with friends, so set to making some strawberry ice cream for a Monday night dinner party.

When mom called me on Sunday evening, mid-icecream-project, the following conversation ensued:
Me: I'm making a custard base for a roasted strawberry balsamic ice cream.
Mom: Sounds weird. I'm sure you'll love it.
True story. And I do love it. Mom's so smart.

At the request of my lovely interns, who tasted a bit of the creamy berry bounty on Tuesday afternoon, and my dear friend Kathryn, with whom I enjoyed the remainder of the quart of ice cream after dinner last night, I offer you the recipe here. It's based partly on a Driscoll's recipe, but then my teeth started to pre-hurt when I dumped in all of the sugar in that recipe so I switched recipes to one on the Serious Eats website mid-stream. And then I strained out and cooked down the post-roasting balsamic-strawberry liquid, stirred in some chocolate, and made a sauce. Okay, well, it started with actual recipes....

Roasted Strawberry Balsamic Ice Cream

• 1 3/4 cups heavy cream
• 3/4 cup whole milk
• 5 egg yolks
• 1 pint fresh strawberries, hulls removed
• 2/3 cup + 2 TBSP sugar
• 1 generous drizzle of aged balsamic vinegar
• 1/4 cup buttermilk

Preheat oven to 350F.

Chop strawberries into bite-sized chunks, then toss with 2/3 cup sugar. Spread in a pie dish, drizzle with balsamic, and roast for 8-10 minutes until berries are soft and fragrant. Let cool slightly, then strain liquid. (Save this liquid for later use in a reduction sauce OR an amazing salad dressing base. Trust me.)

Puree half of the roasted berries in a food processor or blender , then store in the fridge. Store the chunky remaining roasted berries in another container in the fridge. (I am NOT just creating dishes here, there is a reason for separate storage, that you will discover later.)

In a medium saucepan, simmer cream, milk, and remaining sugar until sugar completely dissolves, about 5 minutes. Remove saucepan from heat.

In a separate bowl, whisk yolks. Whisking constantly, slowly whisk about a third of the hot cream mixture into the yolks, then whisk the yolk mixture back into the saucepan with the cream. Return saucepan to medium-low heat and gently cook until mixture is thick enough to coat the back of a spoon.

Strain your custard through a fine-mesh sieve into a bowl. Cool mixture to room temperature -- I like to set my custard bowl inside a larger bowl that has ice water in it.

Cover and chill overnight. The ice cream base, too. ;)

The next day, start churning your ice cream base in the pre-frozen bowl of your ice cream maker.

With the motor running, drizzle in your roasted strawberry puree, then the buttermilk.

When the ice cream is frozen to a soft-serve consistency, with the motor still running, add your roasted strawberry chunks. Allow the ice cream machine to continue until the ice cream has reached the proper consistency.

Transfer your irresistible ice cream to a container with a tight-fitting lid and place in the freezer until it is firm (at least 4 hours). Devour.

Oh, that balsamic sauce? I just had the balsamic-strawberry liquid simmering in a small saucepan on low for a few hours while I worked on lesson plans -- Memorial Day doesn't mean I'm not working, people -- then stirred in a handful of chocolate chips during the last 20 minutes and whisked it every few minutes. Delish.

Mycelium rumbling

There are few things as delicious as a good mushroom. Last week, I was honored to be a part of my friend Jonathan's "test kitchen" dinner party, which featured some of the most delicious fungi I have ever sampled. That's not just the prosecco talking, either (though there was plenty of that, chilled, on hand.)

I've known Jonathan -- local cookbook author and lover of all things farmers market -- for a handful of years now. He's the real deal: a man who talks to farmers in detail about their crops, who talks at length with market shoppers in search of new recipe ideas or cooking tips, who talks to me for hours about making food more fun and accessible to everyone. My people, this one. For years I've known he hosts regular recipe testing gatherings at his house, yet last Tuesday night was the first one I'd joined. I'm wondering why the heck it took me so long. I have no good answer to this question. What I do have is another great recipe, courtesy of Jonathan and the good folks at Mycolumbia Mushrooms -- James and Natalia were our culinary co-conspirators for the evening, as we brainstormed, chopped, and tasted our way through the evening, along with my gentleman friend, Harlan.

Actually, we made a few different recipes -- chicken and mushroom dumplings with three trial dipping sauces (all delicious), a spinach salad with oven fried mushrooms, a seared steak with sauteed oyster mushrooms and bleu cheese (who knew I liked bleu cheese that much?), and, the one I begged the recipe for afterwards, a hearty mushroom and barley soup. My tummy was rumbling for it for days. This weekend I'll be picking up ingredients to make more....

Mushroom barley soup
Recipe notes courtesy of Jonathan Bardzik

Ingredients

Soup

• 3 oz dried oyster mushrooms soaked in 4 cups boiling water
• 2 TBSP butter -- I'd brought some leftover from the day's classes, handshaken by 1st graders
• olive oil
• 1 onion, diced
• 1 cup uncooked pearled barley, rinsed
• 6 cups chicken stock
• 2 TBSP yellow miso -- I'm obsessed with this stuff, be warned
• Rice wine vinegar
• 1/4 lb fresh pea tendrils, tough stems removed

Miso butter: 

• 4 TBSP butter
• 2 TBSP yellow miso -- see what I mean?

Directions

Place dried mushrooms in a medium bowl and cover with boiling water. Let rest for 20-30 minutes to reconstitute. Drain mushrooms through cheese cloth, reserving both mushrooms and liquid.

Melt 2 TBSP butter with 2 TBSP olive oil in a soup pot over medium heat. Add onion and cook until softened, about 5 minutes.

Add barley and cook an additional 5 minutes to toast, stirring occasionally.

Add mushroom liquid and cook approximately 1 hour until barley is tender. 

Meanwhile, preheat oven to 400F. Separate reconstituted mushroom stems and caps. Shred caps  with a knife and thinly slice stems. Toss with remaining 2 TBSP olive oil and season with salt and pepper. Spread on a baking sheet and roast until mushrooms are deep brown and crisp. Remove from pan and set aside to cool.

Add mushroom stock and miso to the barley mixture and simmer for 5 minutes longer allowing flavors to blend.

Remove soup from heat and stir in pea tendrils. Season to taste with salt, pepper and a splash of rice wine vinegar.

Make miso butter: Melt butter and yellow miso in a small pan over medium heat. Whisk together.

Serve soup garnished with miso butter and toasted mushrooms. OMG, so good!!

This spring is so wonky lately, it's actually, strangely, soup weather again. So get yourself out to the farmers' market to get your oyster mushrooms and get cooking! (What's that? Oh! Mycolumbia will be at the 14&U market and the Bloomingdale market on alternating Saturdays and Sundays this season... starting this weekend!)

Chocolate Rabbit Torte

I came home from work the a few days ago to find a little easter treat from my landlady, left for me on the steps up to my apartment:

One is never too old to enjoy a chocolate bunny and jelly beans. And tulips -- I adore tulips. (I do think I'm a little old for easter egg hunts, so I'm glad mom hasn't planned one for this year. My brother and I almost injured ourselves and each other the time she organized one in the back yard a few years ago....)

As I explained to a friend recently, Easter is everything I love about Thanksgiving, but with better weather and no football. It just might be the perfect holiday. Now, home from the annual easter festivities, I have a 7oz bunny to attend to. In what delectable form will he be eaten? I'm thinking a variation on the classic chocolate torte... nibbled on with a bottle of the recently ready coffee bourbon porter homebrew.

Chocolate Rabbit Torte

Ingredients

• 7 oz milk or dark chocolate rabbit -- I'd break it into pieces
• 12 TBSP butter, cut into pieces
• 1/4 cup cocoa powder
• a splash of vanilla
• 5 large farm fresh eggs, at room temperature
• 1/4 cup sugar

Directions

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Brush an 8 or 9-inch cake pan with butter and dust with flour. Alternately, you can use parchment paper in place of butter/flour coating.

Melt chocolate and butter in a small saucepan over low heat, stirring frequently.

Remove from heat and whisk in cocoa powder and vanilla.

Let cool for about 10 minutes.

In a separate bowl, beat eggs and sugar together until thick (6 minutes or so) with an electric mixer.

Gently fold chocolate mixture into the egg mixture until just mixed (uniform color).

Pour batter into prepared pan and bake 40-45 minutes.

Cool in pan, run a knife around the edge of the pan to loosen if needed, and then turn out on a wire rack or plate to slice.

Now, which grown up kids-at-heart can I invite over for dessert?

It's all (deliciously) Greek to me

Many years ago, when working downtown for a global health nonprofit, my friend Jeanne came into the office one afternoon with the most divine smelling takeout container ever. Rich, lemony, chicken aromas wafted through the office as my colleague strolled past my desk with her pint of soup from the Greek deli around the corner.

This was my first encounter with avgolemono soup, and it was love at first scent. I believe this was in 2006. I've been in love with this soup for ten years. And just tonight, I perfected making it.

Oh, there were some bumps along the way. Nothing ever ended up being completely inedible, mind you, just odd textural disasters that I did not foist on dining companions. I ate lots of that over the years. But tonight's velvety, lemony victory was pure bliss. And a good thing, too: what's this freezing rain coming down on the first day of spring? Did Mother Nature not get the memo?

I think the secret to tonight's gustatory awesomeness was the homemade chicken broth (where I usually used delicious but definitely different veggie stock). And the fact that I kept the heat low enough while cooking was key for tempering the egg yolks. Upon reflection, I suspect that the latter is where I strayed during earlier batches. Live and learn.

Right. You want the recipe, eh? Well, here you go:

Easy Avgolemono Soup for Two
(or for one, with leftovers)

Ingredients

• 1 TBSP butter + a good glug of olive oil
• 1 large onion, diced
• 2 large garlic cloves, peeled and chopped
• 2 handfuls cooked brown rice
• 1-2 handfuls shredded, cooked chicken (optional - I had some left from making stock)
• 1 quart or more of good chicken stock, warmed
• 2-3 cups freshly chopped spinach
• Juice from 2 lemons
• 2 egg yolks
• Salt and pepper

Directions

Saute the onion in butter/olive oil until soft.

Toss in the garlic, rice, and chicken bits and stir well.

Add the chicken stock, spinach, and lemon juice, and simmer over medium-low heat for about 10 minutes. (Don't bring it anywhere close to a boil! This is where I went amiss...repeatedly... usually when I was starving and trying to make this soup quickly and thus ended up with lemony eggdrop soup.)

In a small, heat-proof container, beat egg yolks. While whisking, slowly dribble about 1/4 cup of the warm soup broth into the yolks. Then slowly whisk in another 1/4 cup. And another. Now you're ready to slowly whisk the tempered egg/broth mixture back into the main soup pot. So whisk it, carefully, and over low heat.

Taste, then add salt and pepper as needed.

Voila! Your velvety, lemony, nourishing pot of deliciousness is ready for immediate consumption in less than 20 minutes from start to finish.

Now I just need to find a charming, single Greek man who can appreciate my cooking skills.... Know anyone?

Downright fun

It's been too long since I've been part of an elaborate dinner gathering. (Oh, don't worry, I've still been eating well, between lots of cooking at home and with kids in schools, and out and about on dates.) Last night, in celebration of the series finale of Downton Abbey, my landlady threw a wonderful dinner. It all started with me needing an excuse to make some cocktails with the starfruit I'd pickled....

What's that? You're surprised that I enjoy the at times staid, at other times melodramatic PBS drama? I was an English teacher for a time, and retain a soft spot for all things Victorian/turn-of-the-century. No, it has not led me to catch Pride and Prejudice and Zombies in the theaters...but mostly because the trailers looked terrible. (The book was actually pretty good.) But I digress.

Last night's dinner was superb. Our neighbor Michele made these adorable little cucumber finger sandwiches. Sarah assembled a big green salad. I boiled up some farmers' market potatoes and parsnips, which were later tossed with butter and fresh parsley. I was also in charge of the asparagus. Kate brought some great red wines. But the stars of the show were Jacky's from-scratch Beef Wellington -- finally, a way that I can enjoy pâté! -- and Kathryn's stunning Charlotte Russe for dessert.

Here's Jacky carving the Wellington. I should have taken more pictures. I blame the good company and irresistible food and drink.

We sipped on limoncello tonics with pickled starfruit and nibbled on some nice cheeses as the final bits of our main meal came together. This was the moment when Kathryn helped me save the hollandaise from the brink of disaster. Should you find yourself in a similar state of panic -- the sauce was so smooth and velvety one minute, then a separated puddle of butter moments later -- I offer Kathryn's brilliant solution: rewarm the sauce over the lowest heat setting, and whisk in a touch of dijon mustard and a few spoonfuls of cold water until the velvet texture of the sauce returns. Voila!

Because I can't seem to resist sharing recipes these days, here's the base recipe for the hollandaise, based on Julia Child's. With Easter -- and asparagus season -- just a few weeks off, you'll want to keep it handy.

Hollandaise Sauce

Ingredients
3 egg yolks
1 tablespoon cold water
Juice from 1 lemon (or just 1/2 lemon if you're not a lemon fiend like I am)
1 1/2 sticks of butter at room temperature, cut into Tablespoons
salt and pepper, to taste

Directions

Whisk the yolks, water, and lemon juice in the saucepan for a few moments, until thick and pale (this prepares them for what is to come).

Set the pan over moderately low heat and continue to whisk at reasonable speed, reaching all over the bottom and insides of the pan, where the eggs tend to overcook.

(In retrospect, I bet this would work really well with a double boiler. Note to self....)

As they cook, the eggs will become frothy and increase in volume, and then thicken. When you can see the pan bottom through the streaks of the whisk and the eggs are thick and smooth, remove from the heat if things start looking funny.

By spoonfuls, add the soft butter, whisking constantly to incorporate each addition. As the emulsion forms, continue whisking in spoonfuls of butter until fully absorbed.

Season lightly with salt, pepper, and a dash of cayenne pepper if you're feeling spunky, whisking everything together well.

Taste and adjust the seasoning, adding droplets of lemon juice if needed. Serve.

(If your sauce starts to fall apart, see Kathryn's tip above.)

Snow gets in your eyes

The organized snowball fight at Malcolm X Park was pretty epic. The abundance of hipsters in attendance inspired me to compose a parody of the Platters classic on my walk home....

They asked me if I threw
Snowballs landing true.
I sheepishly replied,
"I just aimed inside,
But it went quite wide."

They said, "Some day you will find
That jerk who clocked you from behind
When your arm’s on fire.
For now realize
Snow gets in your eyes."

So I packed them, and I fired away --
To think they would hit a thing! --
Thankfully at last, one or two I cast
Finally struck something….

Opponents did deride
My repeated tries
To protect my head.
They aimed from the side,
More snow got in my eyes.

So, yes, though I ducked and weaved constantly, I got hit directly in the face precisely four times. I worried that the last one would lead to a fat lip -- someone was definitely making icier snowballs on the other side of the battle line -- but I am happy to report that did not come to pass. I seem to lack both the killer instinct and the aim to be much of an asset in snowball fights, but it sure was fun. And I sure am sore today, though that may just as easily be a result of my multiple shoveling shifts, hiking, sledding, and snow angel making as from snow combat. Here's my friend Sarah demonstrating proper angel making technique:

After all of that physical activity, I arrived home ravenous, and ready to make something hearty that could cook while I soaked in the bath. As I stripped off my 47 layers of outerwear, the appeal of mashed potatoes was suddenly overwhelming. And, readers, you know I rarely stop at making something as simple as mashed potatoes. A few minutes of rummaging around the kitchen resulted in the following delicious new dish:

Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie
(Definitely not vegan, though!)

Ingredients

• 1/2 cup leeks, chopped
• 1 cup shiitakes, chopped
• 1 cup butternut squash, peeled and diced
• 2 carrots, shredded
• 1-2 cups chickpeas (from a can, or pre-soaked and boiled until soft)
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 4 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
• 2 Tablespoons butter
• 1/4 cup milk
• 1/2 cup vegetable broth
• 1 Tablespoon tomato paste
• handful of fresh herbs, leaves only, minced: parsley, thyme, rosemary

Directions

Preheat oven to 375F.

Saute leeks, shiitakes, butternut, carrots, chickpeas, and garlic in a medium cast iron skillet. Stir regularly.

Meanwhile, bring a medium pot of water to a boil and add potatoes. Boil until potatoes are soft. (20 minutes should do it.) Drain potatoes, then return them to the pot, add butter and milk, and mash with a fork until smooth.

Add herbs, broth, and tomato paste to veggie saute, then top with the mashed potatoes.

Bake until heated through and liquid creeping around the edge is bubbly (about 30 minutes). Viola! You're done!

I took out the remainder of the pan the following day -- yet another snow day!