Well, hello, dear readers. Fancy seeing you still here. I know I’ve been a very bad food blogger lately. My posts are sporadic and not very interesting, recipes are few and far between, and there’s hardly any swearing at all. What gives?

OK, I’ll come clean. I’ve decided to retire Food on the Food.

I’ve been wrestling with this for a while. This is my 10th year blogging, and that’s an eternity in internet years. In fact, it’s the longest job I’ve ever had. It was also my favorite job. Sure, the pay stunk, but what else is new? Instead of raking in the dough, I raked in the doughnuts. There’s something to be said for alternative currencies.

When I first started FotF, I was a brand new parent grappling with my untested role as a mother while trying to conserve a piece of my pre-mom psyche. This blog was my sole creative outlet, a place to experiment with my writing, my food, and myself. It always made me feel free. Writing is a somewhat selfish act for me, so I was surprised when other people starting reading too. I really enjoyed this newfound audience—any writer would—but the truth is I still would have written for an audience of one.

Over the years, the blog saw me through some tough times. It also brought incredible opportunities my way, like the chance to write a cookbook, which I enthusiastically embraced (and then another book). I got to be on NPR's All Things Considered. And I wrote a cover story for Fine Cooking magazine. It also brought me the chance to be on a Food Network reality show, which I declined. (That's just not me no matter how you slice it.)

Now I find myself in the role of a more experienced parent, author, cook, teacher, and, against all odds, gardener. More things are competing for my attention now, and I feel like I need to let go of some of the old in order to experience more of the new. And I know this is weird coming from the girl who hates change, but change is coming whether I like it or not. It’s time.

I’m excited to find out what’s next. I hope to write lots of new stories in new ways. Maybe not about food. Maybe further afield. I don’t have any idea what the future holds, but I’m going to keep an open mind. I was very lucky to be able to do what I love for 10 years, and there’s no reason to believe I won’t continue to do what I love for 10 more. I’ll keep the blog up and searchable for the foreseeable future, so don’t panic if you haven’t printed out your favorite recipes yet (but don’t wait too long!).

Thanks so much for reading, whether it was for all 10 years or just the past 10 seconds. I enjoyed sharing my life with you (from a safe distance). I hope you all continue to cook, read, and live joyfully. Maybe drop me a line sometime and let me know how you’re doing. Life is short. Make it count. And eat well!

Earlier this summer, we were hanging out at Nickerson State Park by one of the kettle ponds. Husband’s brother was in town from Colorado, and the men were fishing while the boys and I swam. When we reconvened on the beach, an older man noticed the fishing poles and started talking to us. He’d brought his family to that campground every year for the past 20 years, and they liked to smoke trout, salmon, bluefish, whatever they could get their hooks or hands on from the nearby waters. Then he proceeded to outline his entire smoking process in great detail. An old Russian recipe, he said.

You can imagine how excited I was by this point in the conversation. Forget salmon, my head was swimming with notions of smoked bluefish. I had no note-taking apparatus apart from my feeble brain, but I wrote down as much as I could remember once we got back to our cottage rental. This is exactly the kind of puzzle I like to solve. A bunch of clues to work with, some mysterious unknowns, and the vague promise of dinner.

Back home with my charcoal grill, I got right down to business. The recipe below is what I did. It’s not an exact replica of that old family recipe, but a close accounting of what I remember from the conversation, plus some smoking tips from the Internet (specifically Dave’s Cupboard, Barefoot Kitchen Witch, and Hunter Angler Gardner Cook), and my own personal additions. No smoker necessary. The technique is for a regular old charcoal grill. The resulting fish came out so well, I couldn’t even believe it. Neither could Husband. It was great smoky fun for an afternoon (and evening, as I found myself outside in the dark at 9 pm with a headlamp unsure of how to tell when the fish was done).

A hearty thank you to the man on the beach. I hope he will forgive me—I don’t think we ever exchanged names, but I owe him a bottle of vodka.


Smoked Bluefish

This works for salmon, trout, or whatever other fish you feel like smoking. For wood chips, my source recommended alder, but I couldn’t find it so I used hickory instead.

Brine
1 quart cold water
1/2 cup kosher salt
1/4 cup sugar
2 Tbsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. black peppercorns
2 bay leaves

1-lb. fillet of bluefish (or more!)
Freshly ground black pepper
4 cups wood chips (like alder, hickory, or apple), soaked in water

In a large baking dish or gallon-size resealable storage bag, stir together all the brine ingredients until the salt dissolves. Rinse the fish well and submerge it in the brine. Refrigerate 4-48 hours until ready to smoke. The brine adds flavor and keeps the fish moist during the smoking process, not to mention helping with preservation.

Pat the fish dry and let it sit in the refrigerator for several hours so the surface dries out further. This step enables the smoke to adhere to the outside of the fish forming a flavorful pellicle. That’s what they call the shiny, dark, lacquer-like surface of properly smoked fish. I’ve read that you know your fish is dry enough when the surface feels slightly tacky, but mine never felt more than just dry and it came out fine. The point is, you don’t want to smoke a wet piece of fish or it won’t turn out as smoky as you want.

Smoke the fish at 200°F for the first hour, then 150°F for the next 2-3 hours until done. For a charcoal grill, you need to get your coals started at least an hour ahead of time, maybe two, in order to give them time to cool to the right temperature. I filled my chimney starter less than halfway up, lit them, let them ash over for 20 minutes, then spread the ashy coals on one side of the grill. I replaced the grate, adjusted the bottom vent so it was halfway closed, and replaced the lid, making sure the top vent was fully open. I inserted a thermometer through the top vent to keep track of the temperature, and when it was 225°-230°F, I added 6 or 7 more coals, and a handful of wet wood chips over the top. Then I sprinkled black pepper over the fish and put it on the other side of the grate away from the coals for indirect heat, skin side down, and closed the lid.

I watched the temperature creep slowly back up to around 200°F. Then I’d check the heat every 15 or 20 minutes. If it went over 200°F, I’d close the bottom vent a bit. If it got too cool, I’d open the bottom vent a bit. (If you close the bottom vent entirely, you’ll put the fire out, so open up the lid and double check that the vent is still partly open if you're not sure.) When the smoke stopped coming out of the top vent, I added a handful of wood chips on top of the coals. Every hour or so, I added more new coals to the pile to keep the heat going. Oh yeah, and you want to do all this while opening the grill lid as infrequently as possible to prevent the giant influxes of oxygen that stoke the heat. There’s an art to this, and I’m still learning, but this worked for me. The heat stayed between 150°F and 220°F for four hours, until the fish felt firm but not dried out like jerky. For food safety reasons, you want the internal temperature of the fish to reach 160°F at some point in the cooking process. Consider that my disclaimer.

Smoked fish will last up to 2 weeks in the fridge, but ours was gone long before then. Eat it on toasted baguette with goat cheese, red onion, capers, and dill. Flake it onto salads. Make a sandwich. Or paté. Mix it with pasta. Serve it over curried rice. It’s delicious!

Boy, it’s been a busy few weeks. The kids are just now winding down from all of their end-of-school activities: final exams, the middle school’s rendition of Mary Poppins, the Little League baseball playoffs, and band and orchestra concert season, which culminated in a whirlwind school trip to New York City and Philadelphia by bus over the course of 2.5 days. (Thank goodness for the Serial podcast.)

Needless to say, meals have been an afterthought. It’s basically just been sandwiches for dinner until further notice. But I happen to think an Italian grinder is a perfectly good dinner. Here’s how to make one at home just like the sub shops.

Italian Grinders

Bake 4 hoagie rolls in a 375°F oven for 3 minutes until the tops are gently toasted. Split the rolls lengthwise, keeping them attached on one side. Top each roll with 3-4 slices of mortadella (or ham), 4-5 slices of capicola (or prosciutto), 4-5 slices of Genoa salami (or pepperoni), and 3-4 slices of provolone. If you get a half-pound of each cold cut, you’ll have plenty. Bake the open-faced sandwiches for 5 minutes until the cheese melts. Sprinkle with salt, pepper, and dried oregano. Pile on your choice of toppings: sliced tomatoes, chopped pickles, sliced onion, hot peppers, and shredded iceberg lettuce. Drizzle each sandwich with a bit of red wine vinegar and olive oil. Then close them up. (I find this easier to do with the back of a long knife pressing everything down while I fold each sandwich up, otherwise the condiments tend to escape. Just be careful sliding out that knife.) Devour.  

Our friend B is from Albuquerque, New Mexico. That means not only does he recognize all of the landmarks in Breaking Bad, but he also makes a mean posole. He makes this spicy pork and hominy stew every year for the holiday caroling party that he and his wife host, and every year they have to tear me away from the crock, even the times when it’s so spicy that my eyes burn and turn bloodshot and I break out into hives. I may look like a meth addict, but, fear not, it’s just a pepper problem. Half of my taste buds say yes, and the other half (along with my entire immune system) say nooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

This is my toned-down gringo version of posole. It has all the authenticity of the traditional dish with none of the pain. I add half of the pepper paste in the beginning of the cooking time. Later, I taste and tailor how much more I add at the end depending on how potent my particular peppers are. Then I serve more pepper paste at the table for people to customize their own bowls. Feel free to increase the peppers even more if you enjoy the sensation of a thousand Africanized bees attacking your face.

This recipe has become a huge hit with the whole family. Perfect for these frigid wintry nights.

Posole  

Hominy is a type of hard-kernel white or yellow corn that is precooked in an alkaline solution to remove the hull. The resulting kernels swell up to the size of garbanzo beans and they're equally tender. They add a mild, tortilla-like flavor to the stew. You can buy hominy in cans (Goya is one brand) in the ethnic section of the grocery store. You can also buy it frozen or dried. If dried, you will need to soak it overnight and expect a longer cooking time.

8-10 dried New Mexico chiles (look for big bags in the ethnic aisle of the store)
2-4 cups hot water
3 Tbsp. vegetable oil
2 lb. pork shoulder (with or without bone)
1 large onion, chopped
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 Tbsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. dried oregano
3 cups chicken stock (or two cups plus one cup of beer)
1 bay leaf
1 29-oz. can hominy, strained and rinsed
Salt and black pepper to taste
Diced avocado, fresh cilantro, and sour cream for topping
(Other options: shredded cabbage, sliced radishes)

Place the dried chiles in a large bowl and cover them with hot water. Set a small plate on top to weigh them down if necessary. Let them soak 15-20 minutes until softened.

Meanwhile, heat the oil in a large Dutch oven. Dry off the pork shoulder with paper towels and season it with plenty of salt and pepper. Brown the pork on all sides over medium-high heat, letting it sit on one side without moving until browned, then repeat on the next side, then the next, etc.

While the pork is browning, remove the peppers from the soaking water (reserve the water). Pull off the stems and remove most of the seeds from the hot peppers. Be careful not to touch your eyes or any other sensitive areas with your hands while working with hot peppers. You only have to learn that lesson once. Add the peppers to a blender and pour in enough of the soaking water to allow the mechanism to puree the mixture smoothly. You want a fluid reddish-brown slurry with no chunks. Pour the pepper mixture into a small bowl and set aside.

Remove the pork from the pot and place it on a large plate. Reduce the heat to medium and immediately add the chopped onion. Sauté until the onions are translucent, about 4 minutes. Stir in the garlic and sauté until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the cumin and oregano and stir briefly. Then add the chicken stock (and beer, if you like). Drop in the bay leaf. Stir in about half of the hot pepper paste. Add the pork and its juices back to the pot and increase the heat.  Add enough of the reserved pepper soaking water that the cooking liquid comes halfway up the side of the meat. Reserve the rest of the soaking water in case you need to add more later. Cover the pot and reduce the heat to medium-low to maintain a low simmer. Cook until tender, turning the meat occasionally, for about 3 hours.

Add the hominy and continue to simmer, uncovered, for another hour or until the pork is practically falling apart. Remove the bay leaf. Transfer the pork to a cutting board and pull it apart into bite-sized chunks. Return the meat to the pot. Taste to determine if it needs more pepper paste. Add as much as you want, reserving some for the table. If the broth is too thick, you can thin it with some of the pepper soaking water. Season with salt and pepper. Serve the stew with the toppings of your choice. I like cilantro, diced avocado, and maybe a bit of sour cream.

[To make this dish in a crockpot, you can brown the meat on the stovetop (or skip that part). When you get to the fourth paragraph, just add all of the ingredients to the slow cooker. Cook according to the manufacturer’s instructions, adding the hominy during the last hour or two of cooking. Pick up at the fifth paragraph where it says: Remove the bay leaf.]

I think I've mentioned how much I love rhubarb: rhubarb pie, rhubarb crisp, rhubarb parfaits. I may be a minority on this, but I like my rhubarb to stand alone. However, in the interest of diversity on my blog, I offer you these Strawberry Rhubarb Crumb Bars. The rhubarb in our school garden is going gangbusters, and there's no way elementary school kids are going to eat it all unless it's mixed with something they know is good. Like strawberries. And a sweet crumbly topping. You have to earn their trust first, and then maybe you can subtract the berries. (Maybe.)


Strawberry-Rhubarb Crumb Bars   

This makes enough to feed a crowd. For a smaller group, halve the recipe and make it in an 8x8-inch pan. Prepare to eat it all within a few days as the moisture from the fruit tends to uncrisp the topping over time.

Dough
21/2 cups all-purpose flour, divided
1 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
12 Tbsp. unsalted butter, cold, cut into 6 pieces
2 oz. cream cheese
1 large egg
1/2 tsp. vanilla extract
1/2 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
1/4 tsp. ground cardamom (optional)

Fruit
1/2 pound (2 cups) strawberries, hulled, halved, and thinly sliced
1 pound (4 cups) rhubarb, cut into roughly 1/2-inch thick pieces

1/2 cup light brown sugar, firmly packed
1 tablespoon lemon juice

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch pan.

For the dough, put 2 cups of flour into the bowl of the food processor along with the brown sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the butter and cream cheese, and pulse the motor until the mixture is moist and crumbly. Dump everything out into a medium bowl. Measure 3 cups of the mixture and add back to the food processor along with the remaining 1/2 cup of flour, egg, and vanilla. Blend just until it starts to come together into a dough. Press the clumps evenly into the pan. Bake for 10 minutes until puffy.

Meanwhile, combine the strawberries, rhubarb, brown sugar, and lemon juice in a large bowl. Spread the fruit in an even layer over the surface of the partially baked crust.

To the bowl of reserved streusel topping, add the walnuts and cardamom if desired, and work in with your fingers until pebbly. Sprinkle the topping over the surface of the fruit. Bake again for 40 to 50 minutes until the topping is light golden brown. Let cool completely before slicing. Store uncovered for a day or two to keep the streusel from getting soggy.

Source: Adapted from The Kitchn and The Tart Tart

Hey, everyone, it's March 14th, which means it's Pi Day! Enjoy your allotted 3.14 pieces of pie. The great thing about a non-repeating number that never ends is that you can always have a tiny bit more pie, mathematically speaking, so enjoy the loophole while you can!

In honor of the day, I have a pie recipe for you. That's two in one week if you count the chocolate tart. The inspiration for this chicken potpie came from Joanne Chang's new cookbook, Flour, Too. If you don't know who Joanne Chang is, then you must not be from Boston because if you were, you would know her bakery and you would know it well. It's paradise. Especially when you're walking from the ICA in the fricking freezing cold with the horrible, horrible wind. The whole place just swaddles you with warmth and butter.

I pulled this potpie filling straight from the book (actually, it's chef Cory Johnson's recipe). But I already had some of my own pie dough in the fridge, so I used that instead of the cookbook version. It's a dough I've been playing around with that has cornmeal and buttermilk. The other difference is that I only had enough dough for the top crust, so I didn't bother with the bottom crust. The crisp, flaky top is the best part anyway. Plus then I didn't have to do any blind-baking (score!). If you want the full Flour recipe, well, you'll have to buy the book. But if you're willing to slum it with the likes of me, here's what I did. It's still pretty awesome.

Chicken Potpie    

If you just want a regular pie crust, no funny buttermilk-cornmeal business, just omit the cornmeal and sub in icy cold water for the buttermilk.

Crust
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup fine cornmeal
1/2 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 6 pieces
3 to 5 tablespoons buttermilk

Filling
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
1 medium onion, cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 large carrot, peeled and thinly sliced
1 celery stalk, thinly sliced
1 small russet potato, unpeeled and cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1-inch pieces
5 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1-1/2 cups chicken stock
1 cup frozen peas
2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme
1-1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
2 tablespoons heavy cream

For the crust, add the flour, cornmeal, sugar, and salt to the bowl of a food processor and pulse to combine. Add the butter pieces and pulse in 1-second beats until you have chunks of butter the size of peas, 8 to 10 pulses. Add 3 tablespoons of buttermilk through the feed tube, and pulse until the dough starts to clump. If it doesn't clump after 12 pulses, add a little more buttermilk, pulsing the motor after each addition, until the mixture clumps together. (You can also cut the butter into the dry ingredients with an electric mixer, a pastry blender, or your fingers. Add the buttermilk in increments, fluffing with a fork, until the dough holds together when pressed.) Dump the dough onto the counter and form it into a ball. Flatten it into a disk about 3/4-inch thick and wrap it in plastic wrap. Let the dough rest in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.

For the filling, heat the butter in a large saucepan over medium-high heat until it foams. Add the onion and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, stirring occasionally, until it softens a bit. Add the carrot, celery, and potato and sauté, stirring, for 4 to 5 minutes until the vegetables start to soften. Add the chicken and continue to cook for another 2 to 3 minutes, stirring, until the chicken pieces start to turn opaque. Stir in the flour, mixing to coat all of the meat and vegetables, and cook 2 to 3 minutes longer. By this time, the filling will start to look a bit sludgy and a brown film should be forming on the bottom of the pan. Add the stock and bring to a simmer. Add the peas, thyme, salt, pepper, and cream and stir well. Simmer, scrapping up the browned bits clinging to the bottom of the pan, for about 5 minutes or until the filling thickens. Remove from the heat and spoon into a 9-inch pie plate or other similarly sized casserole dish.

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Roll out the dough on a well-floured surface into a circle about 1/4-inch thick and at least 10 inches in diameter. With a bench scraper or spatula, flip one side of the dough over the top of the rolling pin, gently loosening the dough if it sticks to the counter, until it is fully draped over the pin. Center the dough over the filling and unfurl. Gently tuck the edges of the dough down into the gap between the filling and the sides of the plate to enclose. Crimp the edges decoratively if you want or leave as is. Cut a few steam vents into the dough with a paring knife. Place the pie on a baking sheet to catch any overflow. Bake for 30 to 45 minutes on the top rack of the oven until the crust is golden brown and the filling is bubbly. Remove from the oven and let sit for 15 minutes before serving. Pie will keep for several days covered in the fridge. To reheat, I actually lift off the crust and heat it on a pan in the toaster oven and heat the filling separately in the microwave. Then I reassemble. That way, the crust is nice and crisp instead of soggy.

Source: Filling adapted from Flour, Too by Joanne Chang

Local Ingredients:
Chicken: Chestnut Farm, Hardwick, MA
Carrots: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA
Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT
Buttermilk: Kate's, Old Orchard Beach, ME
Cream: High Lawn Farm, Lee, MA

As I mentioned before, it was my dad's birthday over the weekend. I usually make baklava, per his request, but this year he wanted to try something different.

He picked up my book (proudly on display on his coffee table for all of his cats to see), and picked out the Salted Dark Chocolate Tart (page 83). He loves chocolate and pistachios, so it was a logical choice. Also, it's rich and delicious. I knew he would like it, and I know I like it, and even the kids were enthusiastic about it once they scraped all the pistachios off. Or maybe they ate two pieces each because they were just so glad to be done with their death march around Sturbridge Village. Either way, we capped off a nice afternoon of barbecue and American history with what essentially is a chocolate truffle pie. And now I'm offering the recipe here. Because I know some of you aren't going to buy my book, but I love you anyway.

Also, want to know what makes a great serving plate for desserts in a pinch? The rotating plate on the inside of your microwave. It's perfectly flat, and the textured, tempered glass almost reads as "fancy." You'll want to clean it off first, of course. Spaghetti sauce splatters detract from the presentation and flavor, but it's nothing a little soapy water and some elbow grease can't handle. Just a little bachelor wisdom from my dad I'm passing on to you!

Salted Dark Chocolate Tart    

The recipe is straight out of my cookbook, except I'm substituting a potentially easier way to make the crust. Have at it!

Crust
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup cold unsalted butter (1 stick), cut into 8 pieces
1 to 2 tablespoons milk
Few drops of vanilla

Filling
1-1/3 cups bittersweet chopped chocolate or chocolate chips
3 tablespoons granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon Chambord or crème de cassis (optional)
1-1/4 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons unsalted butter

Topping
1 to 2 pinches large, coarse-grained sea salt, like Maldon or Fleur de Sel
2 tablespoons finely chopped pistachios (optional)

For the crust, add the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, and salt to the bowl of a food processor and pulse to combine. Add the butter pieces and pulse in 1-second beats until you have chunks of butter the size of peas, 8 to 10 pulses. Add 1 tablespoon of milk with a few drops of vanilla through the feed tube, and pulse until the dough starts to clump. If it doesn't clump after 12 pulses, dribble in the remaining tablespoon of milk a little at a time, pulsing the motor after each addition, until the mixture clumps together. (You can also cut the butter into the dry ingredients with an electric mixer, a pastry blender, or your fingers. Add the milk in increments, fluffing with a fork, until the dough holds together when pressed.) Dump the dough onto the counter and form it into a ball. Flatten it into a disk about 3/4-inch thick and wrap it in plastic wrap. Let the dough rest in the refrigerator for 30 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Roll out the dough on a well-floured surface into a circle about 1/4-inch thick and 12 inches in diameter. With a bench scraper or spatula, flip one side of the dough over the top of the rolling pin, gently loosening the dough if it sticks to the counter, until it is fully draped over the pin. Center the dough over a 10-inch tart pan and unfurl. Gently fit the dough into the corners of the pan without stretching it. Clip off the excess dough by rolling the pin over the top. Gently press the dough against the sides of the pan with your fingers so the dough level rises slightly above the pan's edge to compensate for shrinkage. Use the scraps to reinforce any areas that are too thin. Poke the bottom crust with a fork about a dozen times. Line the dough with aluminum foil. Fill with pie weights all the way to the sides to keep the dough from shrinking (dried beans or rice work well). Bake the crust for 20 minutes, and then carefully remove the foil and weights. Bake for 10 to 15 minutes more, or until the bottom crust is cooked and dry. Let it cool completely before filling.

For the filling, combine the chocolate, sugar, salt, and Chambord in a medium bowl. In a small saucepan, heat the cream and butter until the butter has melted and the cream is hot with some bubbles forming around the edges. Do not boil. Pour the cream mixture over the chocolate and let it sit for 1 minute. Gently whisk just until smooth so as not to create air bubbles. Pour the filling into the tart shell and set it on an even surface in the refrigerator for at least 6 hours, or until firm.

Just before serving, sprinkle the tart with sea salt, or ground pistachios, or both! The tart can be stored covered in the refrigerator for 1 to 2 days, but the salt will start to break down (totally edible, just not as pretty).

Source: Adapted from WINTERSWEET by yours truly.

A few weeks ago, I promised the kids I'd make doughnuts if school was cancelled on account of the big bad blizzard that was predicted to slam the Boston area. But Waltham turned out to be one of the only communities NOT to preemptively declare a day off for the 2 inches of snow we ended up getting (the Cape got slammed, not us). So to celebrate prudence and restraint on the part of the Waltham public schools, I decided to exercise my own version of prudence and restraint by making doughnuts anyway.


As I'm sure you all know, I love doughnuts. Yes, I do believe this has come up before. My favorites are old-fashioned cake doughnuts, but I can be tempted by any doughnut, anytime. That means I have eaten a lot of disappointing doughnuts in my day. So when I say that the particular doughnuts pictured above are the best plain doughnuts I've had in recent memory, I'm speaking from a place of experience. They are damn good doughnuts and you can make them yourself. These are not squishy, yeast-raised doughnuts a la Krispy Kreme. These are crusty and craggily on the outside, tender and cakey on the inside with a hint of nutmeg. The secret to the tender crumb is sour cream and a quick rest in the refrigerator before frying. You don't want them to be perfectly round and smooth. Perfectly round and smooth equals machine-made doughnuts. You're making these with your own two hands—let your hands take the credit.

The kids go crazy for the glazed version, but I love them plain best of all.




Old-Fashioned Plain Doughnuts    

This recipe makes 8 or 9 doughnuts and holes. There's probably not quite enough glaze for the whole batch, but that's because you need to keep some plain for me, for when I arrive unannounced through the chimney for my late morning doughnut fix.

1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2 large egg yolks
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
2/3 cup sour cream
Vegetable or canola oil, for frying

With an electric mixer fitted with a paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar together for 1 minute on medium speed until sandy. Add the egg yolks and beat for 2 minutes more until light and fluffy, scraping down the bowl as necessary. Sift the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and nutmeg together in a medium bowl. Add 1/3 of the dry ingredients to the sugar mixture and mix until just combined. Alternate adding half of the sour cream and half of the remaining dry ingredients, mixing on low just until combined. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Heat the oil (2-3 inches deep) in a large, heavy bottomed pot until a candy thermometer reaches 350 F. Turn out the dough onto a floured counter and roll out to a thickness of 1/2 inch. Using a 3-1/4-inch biscuit cutter or drinking glass, cut out as many circles as you can, flouring the cutter to prevent sticking. Gently pat together and reroll the scraps to make additional doughnuts. Use a 1-1/4-inch biscuit cutter to cut out the centers. (Don't have a cutter that size? Poke a hole with your finger and twirl the doughnut around on the floured counter until the hole is the size you want. You'll just have to forego the munchkins.)

Add the dough to the hot oil in batches of 2 or 3, being careful not to crowd the pot and drive the oil temperature down. After a few seconds, the doughnuts will float to the top. Fry for 75 to 90 seconds until golden brown and cracked. Flip and fry the other side for 60 to 75 seconds until golden. Transfer to a rack set over a pan lined with paper towels to drain. For best results, ice as soon as possible while still warm.

A note on frying: Do not splash the dough into the hot oil. You will burn yourself and hate me forever. Dip one end of the dough into the oil, then let the top fall towards the back of the pot, so the splash goes away from you, while simultaneously moving your hand away. Same goes for the doughnut holes. Don't plop them all in or you'll be sorry. Find a slotted spoon and lower the dough balls into the oil, then gently wiggle the spoon out from underneath.

Glaze
2 cups confectioners' sugar
1 tablespoons honey
1 tablespoons sour cream
3-4 tablespoons hot water

In a medium bowl, whisk together the confectioners' sugar, honey, and sour cream. Whisk in the hot water, starting with just 3 tablespoons and then dribbling in only as much additional water as it takes to make a smooth, runny glaze that still coats the back of a spoon well. If the slurry ends up too runny, add more confectioners' sugar. Dip the warm doughnuts into the glaze, one side at a time, letting the excess run off for a few seconds. Allow the doughnuts to dry completely on a rack until the glaze crisps up, at least 15 to 20 minutes.

Local Sources:
Sour cream, butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT
Eggs: Chip-In Farm, Bedford, MA
Honey: Boston Honey Company, Reseska Apiaries, Holliston, MA

Velvet parasol
Unfurled by autumn rain
Shiitake mushroom

Wow, you guys. What a great response to my last post! Part of the fun of these giveaways is reading all of the comments from readers who share their brilliant ideas, like Melissa's beehive peaches, Gail's strawberry basil gimlet and grilled peach smash, and Erin's baked stuffed tomatoes with goat cheese fondue (thanks for the link, Martina!). What I'm trying to say is that with a community like you guys, we're ALL winners.

Cut the crap, Tammy, and just tell us who won.

Okay, fine. The winner of Home Made Summer is commenter number 19: Jill. Congratulations! I'll be in touch.

And now for the consolation prize: a crab cake recipe from the book! These crab cakes are probably the best I've ever made. The kids complained that the vegetable pieces were too big, so be sure to chop your onion and celery very finely if you want your "crabby patties" to go over well with the SpongeBob contingent.

Enjoy!


Crab Cakes with Paprika Mayo     

The mayo recipe makes a lot, so be prepared to find other uses for it, like spread on cubanos or other sandwiches or served with fried fish.

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 yellow onion, finely diced
2 ribs celery, finely diced
6 ounces fresh crab meat (or 1 small can, drained)
1-1/2 cups plain bread crumbs
1/2 cup crème fraîche
1 large egg, beaten
A few fresh basil leaves, chives, and parsley, minced
Salt and black pepper to taste
Oil for frying

Mayo
1 large egg yolk
Juice of 1 medium lemon
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
2 cups vegetable oil
2 tomatoes (canned are fine), seeded, chopped
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika (plain is fine, too)
Salt and black pepper to taste

In a skillet over medium heat, melt the butter and sauté the onion and celery for about 4 minutes, until translucent. Transfer the vegetables to a bowl and let cool. Flake the crab meat into the bowl with the veggies and add 3/4 cup of the bread crumbs (save the remaining bread crumbs for the coating). Add the crème fraîche, beaten egg, and herbs. Season with salt and pepper, and stir well to combine.

Shape the mixture into 8 equal balls slightly smaller than a baseball and flatten them (about 3/4-inch thick). Dredge the patties in bread crumbs until coated all over. In a nonstick pan, heat about 1/4 cup of oil over medium heat. Fry the patties for 2 to 3 minutes per side, until golden brown. Drain on paper towels.

For the mayo, combine the egg yolk, lemon juice, and mustard in a food processor. Process until foamy. With the motor running, pour the oil through the feed tube in a thin trickle until the mixture becomes a thick mayonnaise. Add the tomatoes, paprika, and salt and pepper at the end and process until incorporated. Serve with the crab cakes. (Store the remaining mayo in a jar in the refrigerator.)

Source: Adapted from Home Made Summer by Yvette van Boven

It never once occurred to me to make my own bagels. Not until I picked up Jennifer Reese's book, Make the Bread, Buy the Butter. In the book, she outlines her advice for which foods are worth making yourself and which ones are better left to the professionals. I was surprised to find bagels in the "make yourself" category. I flagged the recipe for later.

Later never came.

But last week, Husband brought home some bagels from the grocery store and they were god-awful: chalky with an unpleasant flavor. Even I can do better than that, I declared out loud, not sure if I really could but knowing that you have to talk tough if you're going to show your below-average bagel who's boss. I pulled out Reese's book and flipped to the bagel section with an overly dramatic flourish.

Here's what I learned. Making bagels is just like making bread except you boil the dough rings for a few minutes before baking them to a golden brown. (I had no idea you boiled bagels.) The toppings, if you want them, go on after the boiling part (duh) but before the baking (aha!). Otherwise they won't stick. I found it hard to get the dough rings perfectly round. I tried forming the dough into a ball and poking my thumbs through the center as well as rolling the dough into a thick rope and joining the ends. Results were mixed. Most of them came out charmingly misshapen, but, boy, were they delicious, especially warm right out of the oven. They're fun to make, too, all speckled with various toppings.

So, do I agree with the author that homemade bagels are worth the work? If you don't live in New York City, then yes, absolutely. If you do live in NYC, let's face it, you're going to be comparing them to your favorite hallowed bagel place the whole time and nothing will ever live up (and even if they do, you won't admit it). Don't bother. For the rest of us, though, here's your next Sunday morning project!

Totally Delicious Homemade Bagels      

Husband sure picked the wrong week to go back on the South Beach Diet. :(

3-1/2 cups high-gluten or bread flour (I used 4 cups all-purpose flour)
1-1/2 Tbsp. instant yeast (I used active dry and it worked fine)
3 Tbsp. granulated sugar
1 Tbsp. kosher salt
1-1/2 cups water or warm whey from making yogurt or cheese
2 Tbsp. barley malt syrup or brown sugar (I used date honey)
Coarse cornmeal for sprinkling
Optional toppings: poppy seeds, sesame seeds, coarse salt, caraway seeds, dried minced onion, dried minced garlic

In the bowl of a mixer, combine the flour, yeast, sugar, and salt. Add the water or whey and beat hard with the paddle for a few minutes until it comes together into a stiff dough (add a little more flour if necessary). At this point, either switch to the dough hook at your own risk (I busted my KitchenAid this way once) or knead the dough by hand on a floured counter for 5 to 10 minutes until the dough is smooth, supple, and spankable (my words—don't blame the author for my colorful descriptors). Place the dough in a greased bowl, cover with a clean, damp dishtowel, and let rise until doubled in bulk, about 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 400°F. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. While the water is heating, sprinkle a rimmed baking sheet generously with cornmeal (use more than you think or the bagels will fuse to the pan). Lightly grease a second pan.

Punch down the dough with floured fists and divide it into 10 more-or-less equal pieces. Roll each piece into the neatest, roundest ball you can and then, with your thumb, poke a hole in the middle and coax the dough into a bagel shape. Alternatively, you can roll the dough into a thick rope and then join the slightly overlapping ends with a little water. Set the bagels on the lightly greased sheet to rest for 10 minutes.

When the water comes to a rolling boil, add the malt syrup (or brown sugar). Drop the bagels into the water three at a time. Let them simmer for a minute, then flip them over and simmer one minute more. Remove them with a slotted spoon, return to the oiled pan to dry a bit, and repeat with the remaining dough. Transfer all of the bagels to the cornmeal-coated pan and sprinkle on your toppings, if desired.

Bake the bagels for 25 to 35 minutes until golden brown. Store them in a paper bag at room temperature for a few days, or freeze, tightly wrapped, for longer storage. If you end up with some stale bagels, you can always make bagel chips (which are also great in salads and panzanellas).    

Source: Adapted from Make the Bread, Buy the Butter by Jennifer Reese who got it from The New Complete Book of Breads by Bernard Clayton, who adapted it from the erstwhile Jewish restaurant in Paris, Jo Goldenberg's.

Now that you have my recipe for pulled pork, let's sliiiide that bun over and talk about the coleslaw. Because you're probably getting lots of cabbage in your CSA shares right about now. You know you are!

Husband loves coleslaw, specifically my coleslaw. It's one of the reasons he keeps me around. For my part, I put up with him because of his tremendous dishwashing skills and the fact that he eats my coleslaw. That's not something every guy likes, you know? Coleslaw and piles of dirty dishes? My prince!

Coleslaw (print-friendly version)

In reality, I eyeball all the measurements, and it comes out slightly differently each time but always good.

1 pound cabbage, red or green, cored, shredded
1 carrot, peeled, grated
1/2 small onion, finely chopped
1/2 cup mayo
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
Kosher salt
Lots and lots of freshly ground black pepper

Set the shredded cabbage in a colander set over a plate, and sprinkle it all over with about 1 teaspoon of kosher salt. Let it sit for an hour or two to wilt. The cabbage will become increasingly wet as it releases its liquid. I like to gently squeeze it dry a bit with a towel as I transfer it to a bowl, fistful by fistful. Having the veggies not be sopping wet helps the dressing cling better instead of sliding off into the bottom of the bowl. Squeeze the shredded carrot over the sink and then add to the cabbage.

In a small bowl, whisk the mayo with the vinegar. Add lots of black pepper, but hold off on the salt for now. You may not need much or any. Toss the vegetables with the dressing. Taste for seasoning and add more salt and pepper if necessary. Let chill in the refrigerator. Stir again just before serving.

Local Ingredients:
Cabbage, carrots: Waltham Fields Community Farm, Waltham, MA

Okay, people, I've been wanting to share this recipe with you for years, and I can't wait any longer! I had hoped to get better at barbecuing first. I've been waiting and waiting until I could competently maintain low, smoldering coals for six hours at a time without letting the fire go out. But it always goes out. Then I overcompensate by building a flaming inferno that rages on seemingly forever, until I grow bored and start doing something else, and then the fire goes out again. It would seem I don't have enough stamina for the slow-burning fire marathon that is southern barbecue. I can get the coals really, really hot or really, really cold. There is no in-between.

Cue crockpot!

I was skeptical the first time I made pulled pork in a slow cooker. Wouldn't it be a shadow of its barbecued self? But you know what? It's great! It's fantastic! On a scale of 1 to 100, awesome minus 2 is still awesome! Yes, it's not as wood-smoky as it otherwise would be. I added a little smoked paprika to the spice rub to help out with that. Yes, it still takes a looong time to cook, but you don't have to DO anything. No coals to tend, nothing. It cooks all day while the cook's away/at play/on the bidet.

This time, I cooked up two pork roasts at the same time. I knew we'd eat it all and we did. The 9YO is over the moon for this stuff, and ate three big piles of pulled pork after deciding the roll was interfering with the full meat experience. Then he threatened to sneak downstairs at midnight and eat some more. He won't get too far, though, because my money's on Husband to beat him there, hiding in a dark corner of the dark kitchen, hissing, eyes aglow like a startled raccoon. Me, I won't try to compete. I can eat all the pulled pork I want in my dreams and never have to leave the bed!

So, it's up to you this Labor Day if you want to cue up the BBQ and do some actual labor or cue up the crockpot and labor ironically. Either way, you're in for some good eating!

Cheater's North Carolina-Style Pulled Pork (print-friendly version)

Start the night before by applying the dry rub and shaking together the barbecue sauce for best results. However, I've thrown it all together that morning and it still comes out great. I'm partial to the vinegar-based barbecue sauce for which North Carolina is known, but if you have your own favorite sauce, feel free to sub it in. Serve on a roll with coleslaw!

Sauce
1/2 cup apple cider vinegar
1/2 cup white vinegar
2 teaspoons light brown sugar
1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon ground cayenne
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper

Rub
1 tablespoon paprika (I like to go half and half with sweet and smoked paprika)
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1/2 tablespoon black pepper
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon ground cayenne
3- to 5-pound pork shoulder or Boston butt, bone in or out
1 tablespoon vegetable oil (optional)

Shake together all the sauce ingredients in a mason jar until the salt dissolves. Refrigerate.

Mix all the spices together in a small bowl. Dry off the meat with paper towels and rub the spice mixture all over. Wrap tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight. If you don't have that kind of time, proceed to the next step.

In a large Dutch oven or other heavy-bottomed pan, heat the oil until hot. Brown the meat on all sides to get a tasty outer crust. Again, if you're in a hurry, you can skip this step. (It does make it better, though.)

Transfer the meat to a slow cooker. Pour about 1/2 cup of the barbecue sauce over the meat. Cover and cook 4 to 6 hours on high or 8 to 10 hours on low. The meat should be very tender when poked. Remove it to a cutting board. Pour the liquid in the slow-cooker into a measuring cup and let it sit undisturbed. Shred the meat with a fork, pulling it apart and place it in a large bowl. Pour off the fat from the top of the liquid in the measuring cup, and reserve the dark sauce below. Pour a few tablespoons of the dark sauce over the meat and toss (not too much, as it can be salty from the rub).

Make sandwiches by piling pulled pork onto bulky rolls, dressing with the remaining barbecue sauce or more of the brown pan drippings, and topping with homemade coleslaw.

The Barbecue Method

If you want to try your hand with the barbecue, here are my notes. This should work, theoretically, if you're diligent about adding enough coals every hour. It does take some practice, but if the fire does go out, just throw it in the slow cooker on high and call it a day!

Soak 4 cups of wood chips in water for 30 minutes (I use hickory). Preheat the grill (I use a chimney starter filled 3/4 of the way up with charcoal, bottom stuffed with newspaper, and lit from underneath with a match). Once the coals are ashy (about 20 minutes), dump them onto the bottom grate on one side of the grill. Place the cover on the grill, poke a thermometer through one of the holes in the vent, and close the vent a bit to get the temperature down to 300°F. Once there, add some soaked wood chips to the coals and replace the top grate.

Add the meat to the grill on the opposite side as the coals. Try to maintain a grill temperature between 200° and 225°F. Don't let the fire go out (haha, have fun with that!). To get the temperature higher, open the vent more. To get the temperature lower, close the vent more. Every hour, add 10 or so more coals and another handful of wood chips (grill grates often have hinges that allow you to lift up one side to add more coals/chips). Baste the meat with barbecue sauce and replace the cover immediately. Smoke 5 to 6 hours. When the meat is tender and nearly falling apart (an internal temperature of 190° to 195°F), remove the meat from the grill. Let rest. Shred the pork.

Local Ingredients:
Pork: Chestnut Farms, Hardwick, MA

Sometimes you have to eat waffles for breakfast AND dinner. Like yesterday!

Husband's vintage waffle iron has been sitting unused for more than a decade. Why? Because I didn't have a decent waffle recipe. And because I'm really afraid of his vintage waffle iron. I don't like that the electrical wiring is visible and situated so close to non-removable parts that require washing. Water is an excellent conductor of electricity, as you know. I am aware that "technically" I won't be electrocuted while washing the waffle iron as long as it's not plugged in, and I know it's not plugged in because I checked it 50 times, and there isn't even an electrical outlet near the sink. BUT STILL, my mental danger bells keep ringing so loudly, over and over again, that I don't even feel like making homemade waffles anymore I have such a headache.

But all that changed thanks to one recipe. And it came from a book that I think you should know about, The Homemade Pantry: 101 Foods You Can Stop Buying and Start Making by Alana Chernila. I'll be raffling off a copy this week, so stay tuned. I made the waffles for breakfast on Sunday morning, slathered them with butter, moistened them with just a bit of maple syrup, then piled strawberries and blueberries that we picked at Carver Hill Orchard on top along with some fresh whipped cream. Holy crap were they ever good. So good, in fact, that when we got back from the Red Sox game and I didn't want to make dinner, we just reheated the leftovers and had them AGAIN.

Take that, Danger Bells, it's double waffle time!!!

Waffles (print-friendly version)

Feel free to sub in half whole wheat flour if you like.

2 large eggs, separated
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
3/4 cup buttermilk, warmed
1 cup whole milk, warmed
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt

Preheat the oven to 200°F.

In a small bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, melted butter, buttermilk, milk, and vanilla. In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. In another medium bowl, whip the egg whites several minutes with an electric mixer until they hold soft peaks that droop slightly when the beaters are lifted.

Stir the milk mixture into the flour mixture until combined. Stir in a big spoonful of beaten egg whites until incorporated. Then, with a flexible spatula, gently fold in the remaining egg whites.

Grease the waffle iron either with cooking spray or brush with oil. Scoop 1/2 to 2/3 cup of batter into the hot iron. Cook according to the manufacturer's instructions or until golden and crispy on the outside. Keep warm in a single layer on a sheet pan in the oven until ready to serve. Top with butter and maple syrup, or whatever fresh fruit is in season. Jam is also acceptable. Whipped cream doesn't hurt, either.

Source: Adapted from The Homemade Pantry: 101 Foods You Can Stop Buying and Start Making by Alana Chernila

Local Ingredients:
Eggs: Eric's Eggs, Starksboro, VT
Butter: Cabot, Cabot, VT
Buttermilk: Kate's Homemade Butter, Old Orchard Beach, ME
Milk, cream: High Lawn Farm, Lee, MA
Berries: Carver Hill Orchard, Stow, MA

I need to sneak this recipe in before it gets too nice outside. Who wants chili in 70-degree weather? But I think we can expect a few more cold, rainy days in our future if I know Spring, and, when they come, keep this black bean and sweet potato chili in mind. Yes, it's vegetarian, but it's quick to make and boldly spiced as chili should be, making it very satisfying, especially when sprinkled with queso fresco or any other cheese you might have left over from the huevos rancheros. I'm always biased towards meat, so if I like a vegetarian recipe, that's a good sign!

Black Bean and Sweet Potato Chili

I cut back a little on the chipotle powder to keep things accessible for the kids. The flavors were still quite prominent. If you don't have chipotle powder, you can chop up one or two canned chipotles in adobo, or use a pinch of cayenne instead, or substitute some smoked paprika for a milder but smokier flavor.

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large sweet potato, peeled and diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons chili powder
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1/4 tsp. ground chipotle
2 1/2 cups water
2 15-oz. cans black beans, rinsed
1 14-oz. can diced tomatoes
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
Queso fresco (optional)

Heat oil is a large saucepan over medium-high heat. Add onion and sweet potato, and cook stirring often, until the onion is soft, about 4 minutes. Add garlic, chili powder, cumin, chipotle, and salt to taste, stirring constantly until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add water, bring to a simmer, cover, reduce heat to medium-low to maintain a simmer, and cook until the sweet potato is tender, 10-12 minutes. Add beans, tomatoes, and lime juice. Return to a simmer and cook until slightly reduced, about 4 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in cilantro and more salt if needed. Crumble queso fresco on top. Serve with cornbread or cheddar quesadillas.

Source: Adapted from Eating Well magazine.