There was an onslaught of savory breakfast posts in my feed a while back. (I am forever playing catch up with the blogs.) I found it unexpectedly inspiring. In fact, I was inspired to rebel against that onslaught and stand up for what I believe in. This is far from a savory breakfast, friends. I believe in a sweet start to my day.

I also believe I need to empty my freezer before the guy and I make a big move t0 the coast in oh, EIGHT DAYS. Of the 20 pounds of blueberries I brought home last summer from the farm, roughly eight remain. This used some of those berries. That Lemongrass Beef Stew helped by getting rid of the frozen lemongrass. We finished up a batch of Carey’s cauliflower-garlic gnocchi that had been in the freezer since January. There’s some chorizo, some chestnut flour, and a bag of cranberries that has to go. Oh, and the curry leaves. But I think the curry leaves can handle the move. I’m not sure why; I just do. Yikes. Cooking is going to get a bit more interesting in the days ahead.

But we’re going to live three blocks from the freaking ocean, and barely a block from a strip of great bars, bakeries, coffee shops, and restaurants. There’s a well-known art museum in our backyard. There’s also a tattoo parlor in our building if we get so inclined. (Wait, Kevin? Never. I burst out laughing at the idea of the guy getting some fresh ink.) We’re moving to our most favorite town in the state. It’s like a dream come true!

Except for the fact that I’ll be commuting up to school and staying with friends during the week. I’ve known this has been coming for months, but now that it’s actually happening, I have a deep despair building in the pit of my stomach. I’m mostly, unsurprisingly, freaking out about the complete upheaval of my daily and weekly routines, especially when it comes to food. How will I plan my meals? What day will I go grocery shopping? It will all work itself out, I’m sure. But the uncertainty is kind of terrifying.

I guess I’ll just keep cooking, somehow. What else can I do?

Blueberry Ricotta Blintzes
an original recipe, inspired by Ina Garten and the Joy of Cooking

Note #1: I made the ricotta a couple of days before I made this recipe; you should definitely make it in advance. You can make the compote in advance, also, but it only takes a few minutes to put together and you’d spend just as much time reheating it for serving as you would cooking it in the first place. Keep in mind the 30 minute resting time for the blintz batter.

Note #2: I cannot write a recipe to save my life. Mad props to my pal Shannon, who busts out epic edibles with many mini-recipes and lots of steps on the regular. How does she do it?!

For Ricotta (makes 8 ounces):
1 cup heavy cream
2 cups whole milk
1 1/2 tablespoons vinegar

For Blintz Batter:
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup milk
1 egg + 1 egg white
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 teaspoon sugar

For Ricotta Filling:
6 ounces of the homemade ricotta, above
1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon maple syrup
1/8 teaspoon cinnamon

For Blueberry Compote:
1 cup frozen wild blueberries
1 teaspoon sugar
1 tablespoon water

Make the ricotta: Line a fine mesh sieve with 2 layers of cheesecloth and set the sieve over a deep bowl. In a medium-sized heavy saucepan, heat milk and cream over medium-high until rapidly boiling, stirring occasionally. Turn off the heat and add the vinegar. Let the mixture sit for 1 minute, then pour it into the sieve and let drain for 25 minutes. Transfer the ricotta to a container, cover, and refrigerate. Discard the whey. Keeps 4-5 days.

Make the blintz batter: Combine all ingredients in a blender. Blend until combined, then let rest for 30 minutes before proceeding. During this time, you can make the ricotta filling and the blueberry compote.

Make the ricotta filling: Combine all ingredients in a small bowl until combined. Keep in the refrigerator until ready to cook.

Make the blueberry compote: Combine all ingredients in a small saucepan over medium heat. Simmer for 7-10 minutes, stirring and smashing the blueberries occasionally. You can add more water if the compote gets too thick.

Assemble and cook the blintzes: Heat a nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add a bit of butter and swirl to coat the skillet. Pour in  a scant 1/4 cup of batter and swirl it around the bottom of the skillet. When the batter appears dry on the top (after 20-30 seconds), slide the blintz out of the pan onto a plate. There’s no need to cook the other side! I made six blintzes from this batter. Well, five. I messed up the first one like you wouldn’t believe.

Fill (and finish! Finally!) the blintzes: Place a tablespoon of ricotta in the center of the uncooked side of a blintz. Fold each side of the blintz over the filling, creating a square. Swirl some butter in the nonstick skillet used to cook the blintzes, then place the filled blintz seam side down in the skillet. Let sit for about one minute, then carefully flip it over. The seam side should be golden brown. After another minute, remove the blintz from the skillet. Repeat and serve with warm compote.

Shall I address my most recent blogging hiatus?

I read on BraveTart the other day that you should never address a hiatus in blogging because it exposes your lazy disinterest. I’m going to be real: I haven’t written a post in weeks because a) I’m lazy and b) I’ve been disinterested in blogging lately. Remember what I said about reaching my cognitive limit? I don’t want to do anything beyond schoolwork that requires significant brain power. Writing doesn’t come easy to me, therefore I’ve been avoiding it. I’ve sat down a number of times to write, looked at my keyboard for a few minutes, then glanced over to Kevin, sighed, and said “I think I might be done with my blog.” That’s happened. I sit down to write, realize I haven’t read my favorite blogs and commented on their recent posts, read and comment, and then my writing juice is gone. So I don’t write.

Thank goodness that cooking doesn’t require significant brain power. While all my bloggy friends are using their creative brains to make beet and balsamic mustard, thyme-infused pear syrup for cocktails, pineapple upside-down cake with Angostura bitters, chai chia pudding, and a dreamy dill-dijon vinaigrette, I’m using my basic brain to read recipes like this and reproduce them to the best of my ability. And it’s successes like this that motivate me to keep cooking, with hopes that someday I’ll feel like writing something down.

Kevin’s sister sent me Vietnamese Home Cooking by Charles Phan of The Slanted Door in San Francisco for Christmas, and it was my bedtime reading for a couple of weeks. Kevin loves Vietnamese cuisine, and we have long lamented the lack of relatable, reliable Vietnamese cookbooks. This book was a revelation. It’s not completely accessible, but it is leaps and bounds further into a fascinating food culture than anything else I’ve come across. Since receiving it, I’ve also become aware of Andrea Nguyen’s book Into the Vietnamese Home Kitchen, another great source for cooking Vietnamese food at home. Add that to my ever growing cookbook wish list.

We’ve made a few recipes from the book so far, but this was the most memorable. Let’s talk about lemongrass. Since Charles Phan told me how to properly prepare it for use in a recipe, I want to put it in everything. Unfortunately, the fresh stuff is nowhere to be found around here–I used stalks that had been in my freezer for about a year and a half. When I bought that lemongrass, I had read that it freezes beautifully. Now I can tell you that is indeed the case. Lemongrass is herbaceous, floral, and punchy with citrus all at the same time. It seems like such a delicate aroma, but it permeated through freaking fish sauce and gave this dish a beautiful brightness that left a lasting impression on my palate. Star anise and tomato paste added depth of flavor; ginger, chiles, and cilantro cut through the beef and vegetables and rounded out the stew.

Warmer weather is upon us (I think–it’s been an absurdly cold Spring), so dishes like this probably won’t come out of my kitchen again until the fall. That’s plenty of time for me to replenish my lemongrass supply.

Lemongrass Beef Stew
adapted from Vietnamese Home Cooking by Charles Phan
(the original recipe is published on Serious Eats)

3 pounds boneless beef short ribs, cut into 1 1/2-inch cubes
4 tablespoons canola oil
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 cups diced yellow onion
2 teaspoons minced garlic
1/4 cup finely minced lemongrass
3 tablespoons tomato paste
2 by 1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and smashed
2 whole star anise pods
1 or 2 Thai chiles, stemmed, plus 1 teaspoon minced, for garnish
6 cups beef stock
3 carrots, peeled and cut into 2-inch lengths
8 ounces daikon radish, peeled and cut into 1-inch lengths
about 2 tablespoons fish sauce
cilantro, for serving

Place the beef in a bowl. Drizzle with 1 tablespoon of the oil, sprinkle with the salt and pepper, and stir to coat. Let stand while you prepare all of the other ingredients. In a large Dutch oven or heavy-bottomed pot, heat the remaining 3 tablespoons oil over high heat. When the oil is hot, working in batches, add the beef and cook, turning as needed, for about 8 minutes, until browned on all side. As each batch is ready, transfer it to a rimmed baking sheet.

Let’s discuss cognitive ability. I am an aspiring academic, after all.

Why is it so hard for me to learn about how the landscape affects pollinator efficiency, and so easy for me to learn about how to freeze beans? I have a deep interest in both topics, and really, I don’t think about much other than my research and my culinary exploits. Well, that makes me sound cold. I think about Kevin, my family, and my friends. I do my best to keep up on the news, which usually leads to me reading the latest celebrity gossip.

But back to my point: my brain hurts after reading a couple of paragraphs of a research paper. I can read tens of blog posts and be ready for more. Perhaps it is the density of the writing: not that bloggers aren’t intelligent, just that they write in a conversational tone that is easy to read and comprehend. There’s a sentence in my thesis that reads: “Principal Components Analysis (PCA) is a multivariate statistical method that groups correlated variables into components to reduce redundancy. “ Who wants to read anymore of that?! I don’t, and that’s my writing!

I’m often frustrated because I have to read, and read, and read some more in order to a) learn about what’s been accomplished in my field of study and b) stay on top of what’s being accomplished in my field of study. I read a paper the other day that had been cited by nine other papers in 2013 alone. It is the first week of March, friends. I’m still reading papers from 2007 most of the time! What really gets me is that I have a difficult time retaining a lot of what I read, which is bad news when you have to explain a paper to your advisors or write a detailed document explaining how you could use this information in a research project.

Speaking of writing a detailed document, it’s much easier for me to write here than it is for me to write my dissertation proposal. It’s probably for the same reason that I read blogs more easily than I read papers. It’s a bit therapeutic when I work for 5 hours and write 340 words, then head to the blog and write 350 words in 15 minutes. But frustrating: where is that output when I’m working? Why is it so hard to write at work?

I feel like I’m constantly at my cognitive capacity. Is there such a thing? I’m learning so much that I can’t possibly keep track of it all. I have so many things to do that it’s hard to focus on writing when I need to be reading, or I have homework (Homework! The bane of my existence.) My brain is always buzzing. But there’s always more to learn. My curiosity for this stuff is insatiable, even when it hurts my brain to read or write another word.

But there’s always pie. The promise of a sweet treat at the end of the day always keeps me moving forward. Sunday mornings are always for baking, and I eagerly anticipate reaching this point in my week because it allows me to take a break and focus on one thing. Well, two things–I have to take presentable photos while I bake. I finally had the chance to play with Key limes, and although juicing a ton of them wasn’t the most pleasant, the end result was so, so wonderful. The pie is punchy with floral citrus but tempered by sweetened condensed milk. The well-balanced flavor is complemented by the well-balanced texture of smooth filling and crumbly crust. And, once you’ve juiced your Key limes, it is so simple to put together.

Key Lime Pie
from the Joy of Cooking

I chose not to make a meringue for my pie–I wanted to get as much Key lime goodness as  possible!

1 recipe Graham Cracker Crust, see below
One 15 oz can sweetened condensed milk
4 large egg yolks
1/2 cup Key lime juice (from 12-14 Key limes)
3 teaspoons Key lime zest
Whipped cream, for serving

Preheat the oven to 325°F. Whisk sweetened condensed milk, egg yolks, Key lime juice and zest together until blended. Pour into prepared crust. Bake the pie for 15-17 minutes, until the center looks set but the pie quivers when the pan is jiggled. Cool completely on a rack, then refrigerate. Serve with whipped cream.

Graham Cracker Crust
from the Joy of Cooking

1 1/2 cups fine graham cracker crumbs
1/4 cup sugar
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

Preheat oven to 350°F. Combine all ingredients and pat them into a 9 inch pie plate. Bake for 10 minutes and let cool a bit before filling.

I’m feeling a wee bit peevey today.

It’s really annoying when I find a great photo on Pinterest, only to have to embark on a source hunt because the link ends up at some Tumblr site or the main page of the true source site, not the post containing the image. Google Image Search has become my new best friend. There should be Laws of Pinterest. Law #1: Properly source your image!!

I have less than a month to write a rough draft of my dissertation proposal. So far, the only written documents I have concerning my research are scribbled on scratch paper or are hastily typed outlines for meetings with my advisors. I created a concept map last fall as I dove headfirst into a scientific literature search that has since become infamous among my peers, but it’s nowhere near specific enough to use for my proposal writing. We have a two-week spring break coming up. Guess what I’ll be doing?

The cat is sick again. We started her on another round of medicine to provide some temporary relief. She’s also starting to take probiotics with her food every day. I hate seeing her in pain. It breaks my heart.

But! There are plenty of happy things that circumvent these peeves. My brother, an avian rehabilitation technician, observed a bald eagle’s eye getting removed and is working to rehabilitate said eagle.  The eagle flew nice and straight this week! My middle brother has been accepted to his top two colleges and has to make the tough decision of which one to attend. He’s got a lot of thinking to do, but I know he’ll choose the right school for him.

My father finally shipped my stand mixer from Michigan to Maine! I had Christmas all over again this week. We’re breaking it in this weekend with these. And the weekend kicked off with a story on wild bees on NPR this morning–a much needed break from hearing about all the sequester stress.

This soup, I’m not going to lie, starts off a wee bit peevey. You have to dice 2 pounds of mushrooms into 1/2 inch cubes. Really?! Yes, really. Before you start chopping, you take the stems from all those mushroom and get them simmering in chicken stock. Over the hour-long simmer, you have just enough time to get those mushrooms diced. Perhaps that’s my lack of knife skills, or perhaps it just takes a really long time to dice 2 pounds of mushrooms into 1/2 inch cubes.

Here’s where the happiness comes in. After the hour-long simmer, the chicken stock transforms into a luxurious mushroom broth that tastes like hours of work. By that time, you’ve started sautéing your little mushroom cubes, and as they’re tossed with thyme, shallots, and brandy, your kitchen starts to smell like France. I’ve never been to France, but I think it might smell like that. Sidebar: Kevin and I decided on our favorite herbs this week. His is basil. Mine is thyme. I LOVE ME some thyme! Anyway, when the mushrooms are sautéed, they’re added to the mushroom broth, and finally you add heavy cream to finish the soup and give it some body.

And you forget the pain of dicing 2 pounds of mushrooms when, as you take spoonful after spoonful of soup, you find pieces of mushroom in EVERY bite! The broth is fantastic enough on it’s own, sure, but you don’t have to consume innumerable spoonfuls of just broth before hitting the mushroomy goodness. The mushroomy goodness hits you from bite one until bite done. It’s pure genius.

Creamy Mushroom Soup
from MrsWheelbarrow at Food52

1 pound mixed mushrooms, cleaned, stems separated from caps
1 pound cremini mushrooms, cleaned, stems separated from caps
1/2 cup minced shallot
6 sprigs thyme
1 sprig rosemary
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
1/4 cup cognac
3 tablespoons olive oil
4 cups chicken stock
1/4 cup whipping cream
1/4 cup chopped chives

Roughly chop the mushroom stems and simmer them over medium-low heat, covered, in the chicken broth for about an hour. Dice the mushroom caps into 1/2″ cubes. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat and saute the shallots until transparent. Turn the heat down to medium-low, add the herbs, salt and pepper, and the diced mushrooms, and cook gently until the mushroom liquid is released and reabsorbed. Shake the pan so they don’t stick. Remove the thyme and rosemary. Turn up the heat and add the cognac. Cook the mushroom cap/shallot mixture down until well reduced and starting to turn a little golden on the edges. Strain the mushroom stems from the chicken broth. Add the mushroom cap and shallot mixture to the strained broth and heat gently. Stir in the cream and serve, sprinkled with chives.

These were supposed to be posted in time for Valentine’s Day. I picked them out over a month ago for a fun holiday themed post and baked them a couple of weeks ago to ensure they’d be ready. Most days I would say photography is the hardest part of the blog, but this week, it was the writing that I just couldn’t nail down. Not that I haven’t been at my computer all week writing one thing or another. Would you like to know about how to sample insects in the field? Or how to code a Bayesian capture-recapture model in R, the hippest statistical language there is? (Hip and statistics can totally be used together, trust.) I could tell you about either of those things…or, you know, not tell you about those things.

Let’s talk about cookies. I’ve seen some impressive rugelach recipes, and I’ve been eager to make my own for some time. Rugelach are a crescent shaped cookie, filled and rolled up similar to a croissant. (To be historically accurate, however, rugelach came first.) They are traditionally Jewish, but American cooks added innovations such as cream cheese to create confections similar to the one I’m sharing with you today, the day two days TOO DAMN LONG after Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t get over the chocolate and cherry combination; it just seemed so appropriate for the holiday.

The cookie dough comes together much like a pastry dough: cut cold fat into flour, keep cold, and roll out flat. Then you form the cookies like you would a croissant: Cut into triangles, place filling at the fat end, then roll into a cute little crescent. They are sprinkled with a bit of cocoa powder and sugar right before they go into the oven, and they bake up golden brown and flaky.

I’ve always been a chocolate and strawberry person–I’ve always preferred strawberries over cherries–but I have come to appreciate the little crimson orbs over the last few years. You don’t taste strawberry in a good, full bodied Cabernet Sauvignon, right? I lament my late arrival to the cherry party every summer, when my home state is abound with Montmorency sour cherries, and I have to use sweet cherries when I bake. Sometimes that’s okay, though. These cherry-filled confections were a real treat–and they’re appropriate at any time of the year, not just the days filled with pink and white delights.

Chocolate Cherry Rugelach
adapted from Hannaford Fresh, Jan-Feb 2013

makes about 24 cookies

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour, sifted
1 tsp ground cinnamon
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, cut in small pieces
8 oz. cream cheese, cut in small pieces
2 tbsp plain Greek yogurt
2 eggs, separated
1 cup cherry preserves, or more as needed
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 cup mini semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 tbsp sugar
1 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder

Combine flour, cinnamon, butter, cream cheese, and yogurt into a large bowl, then use a pastry blender (or a couple of knives) to cut the fat into the flour. Add the egg yolks, but save the egg whites for later. Continue to cut the dough with the pastry blender until it is crumbly with pea-sized crumbs. Gather the dough into four pieces–you may need to knead a little bit to combine everything–and flatten each into a disk. Wrap each piece in plastic wrap, and refrigerate at least 1 hour (or as long as overnight).

Preheat oven to 375ºF. When ready to assemble, prepare the filling. In a medium bowl, stir together the cherry preserves and vanilla. Remove 1 piece of dough at a time from the fridge. On a floured surface, roll dough into a rectangle 12 inches long and 5 to 6 inches wide (dough should be about 1/8 inch thick). With the long side facing you, cut into triangles that are 1-1 1/2 inches wide at the base. Place a bit of the cherry preserves at each base, sprinkle some mini chocolate chips onto the preserves, then roll up the triangle to form each cookie. Place about 1 inch apart on a parchment-lined baking sheet.

Whisk together reserved egg whites in a small bowl. Brush each rugelach with egg white. In a small bowl, mix together the sugar and cocoa and sprinkle each pastry with this mixture. Bake until golden brown, about 25 minutes. Let cool on pan for 2 to 3 minutes, then remove from pan, detaching any excess jam, and let cool to room temperature on a wire rack, about 1 hour. Store in an airtight container.