stuff to eat

Raisins, Rules and Irish Soda Bread

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Tue, 20 Mar 2012 10:00:00 +0000

Raisins occupy two places in my world: the palm of my hand, from where they will be tossed into my mouth, and in bread. Raisins do not belong in cookies, cereal, cake, muffins or the like. I don’t know why I dig raisins in bread or by themselves but will summarily pick them out of a piece of carrot cake or avoid oatmeal-raisin cookies altogether.

This week’s Baking with Julia project is Irish soda bread. I love Irish soda bread with raisins, which, according to contributing baker Marion Cunningham, are not a traditional ingredient in Irish soda bread. Since the bread has only four other ingredients—flour, baking soda, salt and buttermilk, which were readily available in most Irish kitchens—I have to assume raisins were not staples in many Irish households. Okay. I’m Irish, and I’ll eat raisins only two ways, so I’ll buy that.

Prior to baking this bread, which was absolutely delicious and contained plump, juicy raisins, I hadn’t eaten Irish soda bread in probably 20 years. The last Irish soda bread I’d eaten was from a bakery in Woodlawn, a neighborhood in the Bronx.

I had been visiting a friend and passed the bakery on my way back to the subway station. The round loaves inside shouted out for me to get in there and buy one of them, which I promptly did. The girl behind the counter sliced it for me, and I watched as she swept the errant raisins into the plastic bread bag. I still had a few more blocks to get to the subway, and by the time I got on the train, I couldn’t help myself. I tore into that bread like someone who had not eaten for days. My fellow passengers looked on in mild disgust, and no one had the courage to sit beside me until we stopped at Grand Central Station. By the time the 4 train had delivered me to my Fulton Street stop in lower Manhattan, the bread was almost gone.

The BWJ loaf was consumed with a bit more restraint—and butter. This bread is so easy to make and so perfect for breakfast, I just may add this to my repertoire. Ms. Cunningham also says that because of “the wee bit of fat that’s in the buttermilk,” by day’s end the loaf will “turn as hard as the Blarney Stone.” My loaf lasted two full days. Luck of the Irish, I guess.

To see the Baking with Julia recipe for Irish soda bread, visit the blogs of Carla and Cathleen. Or, why not buy the book?

Rugelach, How Do I Love Thee?

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Tue, 06 Mar 2012 11:00:00 +0000

My husband, Dan, and I could not have more different culinary tastes. I think our different religious upbringings (his Jewish, mine Lutheran) have a lot to do with that. That said, he has introduced me to some really incredible foods that, had I married a fellow Lutheran, I would never have experienced. Rugelach is among the things he brought into my life, and I can’t thank him enough for it.

Oddly, my favorite rugelach west of the Mississippi is the apple rugelach from Ralphs, the West Coast arm of the Midwestern Kroeger chain. Ralphs was featured in the opening scene of The Big Lebowski, when Jeff Bridges (as the Dude) shuffles through the supermarket clad in a ratty bathrobe and slippers in search of half-and-half, which he opens, drinks from then pays for with a check. The Ralphs rugelach is tender, flaky and sweet and pretty much anything one could want in a piece of rugelach. I sought to duplicate that with my rugelach. I came close with the taste, but not the presentation.

I substituted pears for apples. I found great chunky pear preserves at the Gelsons market in Northridge, days before it closed for good. These pear preserves are naturally sweet and contain no added sugar. Do you know how hard it is to find pear preserves, any preserves, really, without added sugar? It’s hard. I wish I could have photographed these pear rugelach, but, alas, while they were tasty, they were not pretty. I added a pinch of ground ginger to the filling, which was a pretty good idea, if I do say so myself.

The original recipe in Baking with Julia calls for either prune or apricot butter as the filling. I set up being picky in the first paragraph, so when I tell you I abide neither prune nor apricot, you cannot be surprised.

To see the recipe for rugelach, visit the blogs of Margaret and Jessica. Or, why not buy the book?

When It’s 85 Degrees in February

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Tue, 28 Feb 2012 12:00:00 +0000

This is my fifteenth winter in Los Angeles. You’d think that by now I’d be used to July weather in February. I’m not. But, I am trying to enjoy it. While my New York family members dig themselves out of the snow and deal with hat hair, I am skimming my pool and drawing the daffodils that have once again graced me with their presence in my backyard.

It’s not all great on the Left Coast in winter, though. From January through March or sometimes April (!), without fail, I am plagued by allergic rhinitis and rhinoconjunctivitis of the most intense caliber. I can’t breathe, have a red, raw, sore throat and it hurts to keep my eyes open. I can’t wear eye makeup, which just spreads the misery to those who have to look at me. Sometimes allergy meds alleviate the symptoms, but mostly I tear through boxes of Kleenex and count the days until April. I never had allergies growing up in New York, so there is something that blows through or grows in Los Angeles in the winter that my body summarily rejects.

When it’s 85 degrees in February and warm lemon-ginger tea no longer soothes my aching throat, I must turn to ice cream.

Oddly, last summer I didn’t use my ice cream maker once. A few weeks ago I dusted it off, literally, and put it to good use. Coffee ice cream is a popular dessert item in this house, so I decided to try my hand at it. I had some toasted almonds and dark chocolate in the cabinet, and I threw those in as well.

The result almost had me forgetting about the allergies and my dreams of moving to Portland, Oregon. Almost. I still think Portland would be a really cool place to live, and I didn’t sneeze once either time I was there.

I won’t make the mistake of neglecting my ice cream maker this summer. I plan to frolic with fresh, local blueberries, peaches and strawberries.

Even if you don’t experience summer-like temps in winter or have terrible allergies, make a date with your ice cream maker. It’ll get you in excellent practice for summer.

Espresso Almond Chunk Ice Cream

Makes about a quart

I love Medaglia D’Oro instant espresso, but feel free to use whatever floats your boat. Same goes for the chocolate: Use chocolate you really like to eat. If dark chocolate isn’t your thing, use milk chocolate, semisweet—you get the picture.

1 cup reduced-fat (2%) milk

⅔ cup granulated sugar
2 tablespoons instant espresso
2 cups heavy cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Generous pinch sea salt
½ cup almonds, toasted and coarsely chopped
2 ounces good dark chocolate, coarsely chopped

1. In a large mixing bowl, combine the milk, sugar and espresso and mix, using a whisk or hand mixer, until the sugar melts. This takes me about 5 minutes with an electric hand mixer.

2. Pour in heavy cream, vanilla and sea salt and mix until just combined. You don’t want to start whipping a ton of air into the cream.
3. Pour the mixture into your ice cream maker and churn until thickened, about 20 minutes. Pour in the chocolate and almonds and churn until they are well mixed in, about another 5 minutes.
4. Spoon ice cream into a container and put in the freezer for a few hours until it hardens up a bit. If it gets really hard, take it out of the freezer 15 minutes before serving to facilitate scooping.

Fear and Chocolate Truffle Tartlets

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 13:00:00 +0000

In his first inaugural address, Franklin D. Roosevelt said, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” I think he was right on the money with that one.

This week I confronted one of my biggest baking fears: piecrust. And, like childbirth, I had built it up to be far more heinous than it actually was. I think I was more afraid of my fear than I was of the piecrust. I had to do the crust twice because the first batch was way too crumbly. (I did childbirth just once, and luckily Max was just the right consistency.) I think my measurements may have been a bit off on the crust. I did invest in a pastry scraper prior to attempting the second batch, and I’m glad I did.

I made the Chocolate Truffle Tartlets for Valentine’s Day. I’m generally not too gung-ho about V Day, and I hate going out to dinner. I’d much rather stay home and cook. The tartlets were pretty good. I’m total chocolate lover, but there was something about these that just didn’t rock my world. Maybe I was tired from a long day of work, and I would have felt differently if I weren’t exhausted. I don’t know. It was probably the crust. I truly enjoyed the filling and would have been very content to consume it in its entirety with a wooden spoon while listening to Adele, who often accompanies me in the kitchen.

The recipe calls for biscotti or amaretti cookies as part of the filling. I couldn’t find biscotti that looked up to snuff and I’m not a big fan of amaretti cookies, so I used these almond thins. They are delicious, but I think the filling would have been fine without them.

So, another baking fear conquered, and I think when I’m caught up on sleep I will feel more triumphant. I’m looking forward to rugelach, which I’ve been wanting to make for years, on March 6. If you’ve never eaten rugelach, treat yo self and partake as soon as you possibly can.

The recipe for Chocolate Truffle Tartlets is here, here, here and here. Or, why not buy the book?

Tuesdays with Dorie: Baking with Julia

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 13:00:00 +0000

Last fall, I decided that I would start to do things that scared me. Not Jackass-type or illegal things; things that at first thought really excited me, but when that annoying, loud voice would chime in with, Are you nuts? You can’t do that! I would bail on the idea. When I read that Tuesdays with Dorie, the online baking club, was starting up again and was going to bake through all the recipes in Baking with Julia, I knew it was a sign. I love and respect Baking with Julia as a book, but the thought of actually baking stuff from it terrifies me. There’s bread in that book and pies with real crust, which scares the crap out of me and which I chronicled last week. And, oh, yeah, there’s a flippin’ wedding cake in that book! Horror, horror and more horror. I joined Tuesdays with Dorie immediately.

My first attempt at the starter recipe, White Loaves (pages 81-82), was an epic fail. The dough didn’t rise, the bread was as heavy as a brick, and the kitchen looked as though the gents of the World Wrestling Federation had stopped by for a scrimmage.

The recipe calls for a stand-up mixer, which I don’t have. Instead, I halved the recipe and used my food processor. When the bread was not the equivalent of the bread in the book, I thought, Of course, I need a KitchenAid mixer. I can’t make bread without a KitchenAid mixer. After I took a few minutes to breathe, I realized that my hearty Western European and Finnish ancestors made bread without the help of any electric devices, and if they could do it, heck, so could I.

I used bread flour of the second loaf, which was a vast improvement, but it didn’t look exactly like the bread in the book. True, I had used a larger loaf pan, but I didn’t get exactly the results pictured in the book. The bread, however, was delicious—the golden crusty outside protected the spongy, fragrant inside. Dan and I ate it, buttered, with my favorite lentil soup, and Max happily brought the remainder of the loaf back to his bachelor pad to share with his roomies.

I was feeling a little disappointed in my bread until I saw the January 29 episode of Downton Abbey. When Mrs. Patmore, the cook, brings a loaf of bread into the kitchen during one scene, I quickly paused my DVR. Mrs. Patmore’s loaf of bread looked almost exactly like mine! She cut it into thick slices as she talked to the kitchen assistant, Daisy. I watched that scene about three times, not paying a bit of attention to the dialogue. I just wanted to see Mrs. Patmore slice that beautiful bread.

Next recipe: Chocolate Truffle Tartlets. With real piecrust. Gulp.

Pie

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 00:56:00 +0000

Pie scares me. I have no trouble eating pie. In fact, I rather enjoy it―especially with vanilla ice cream. It’s making pies that scares me. More specifically: The thought of making piecrust causes the room to spin, and I have to lie down for a few hours or watch a Sandra Bullock movie.

Dan does not abide pie. He sees no reason to eat hot fruit. He will eat pumpkin pie and chocolate cream pie, both of which I’ve made with success…with the Pillsbury already-made crust. By now you should know I’m pretty much a from-scratch girl, but I figure, why mess with what works? Those Pillsbury piecrusts are delicious and they never fail. Except when they tear in the middle after you unfold them, and even then they can be “glued” back together with a little water and deft finger work.

When Max was little one of his favorite things to eat was chicken pot pie. When I actually read the ingredients in the frozen brand I was feeding him I almost had a coronary. I might as well have been putting embalming fluid into his apple juice. That’s when I first became acquainted with the Pillsbury piecrusts and making my own chicken pot pie. From there I moved on to dessert pies without fruit. Whenever I used the Pillsbury crusts at (gasp!) Thanksgiving, the guests would assume the crust was homemade, and I would do nothing to disabuse them of that assumption.

Last Thanksgiving I was all set to make a pumpkin pie with real crust. Then I got the bright idea to make a pumpkin cheesecake, which Dan and Max preferred hands down. Though the pumpkin cheesecake was way more work, I felt let off the hook because I didn’t have to make the piecrust. This is completely irrational, I know.

Max loves fruit pie and made quick work of the pear-apple crisp. I find myself waking up these days thinking of what other crisps I can make: peach, plum, pluot, just pear, just apple and blueberry have made the list so far. Max said he’d like to try a meat crisp. I encouraged him to make this. I also told him when I’d next be out of town.

I know the day will come when I’ll have to confront head-on making my own crust. But, until that day comes, I’m going to exhaust and happily consume all my crisp ideas. Except for meat.

Pear-Apple Crisp

Serves 8
Adapted from Ina Garten

I dig Ina. She’s a curvy Jewish chick who’s a talented, not-formally-trained cook. I also love her glossy, perfectly-close-to-her-head hair. I saw the Barefoot Contessa episode where Ina made this crisp sometime last year, and I vowed to make it. When the opportunity came up, I had to punt a bit with some of the ingredients, hence my slight adaptation. I used more pears than apples; Ina’s calls for equal amounts. The original recipe calls for some fresh-squeezed orange juice and zest, which I didn’t have, so I doubled the lemon juice and used just lemon zest. Ina also says to use Bosc pears. I think mine were Bartlett, and they were delicious. I made a pint of vanilla ice cream to go along with this as well. Guess what I ate for breakfast the next day, sans the ice cream?

The filling

6 ripe pears (about 3 pounds), peeled, cored and cut into big pieces
2 large apples (about 1 pound), peeled, cored and cut into big pieces
Zest from 1 lemon
¼ cup freshly squeezed lemon juice (about 2 lemons)
½ cup sugar
¼ cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg

The topping

1½ cups all-purpose flour

¾ cup sugar
¾ cup brown sugar, packed
½ teaspoon sea salt
1 cup old-fashioned oatmeal
2 sticks (16 tablespoons) cold, unsalted butter, diced

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.

2. In large mixing bowl, stir together pears, apples, zest, lemon juice, sugar, flour and spices. Pour into a 9x13 baking dish.
3. To make the topping: In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, sugars, salt, oatmeal and butter. With clean hands, work through until mixture resembles large crumbs. Ina says to use an electric mixer with the paddle attachment. I do not possess this piece of kitchen equipment. If you do, feel free to preserve your manicure and mix on low speed for 1 minute.
4. Sprinkle mixture evenly over the fruit and cover it completely. It may seem like a lot of topping. It isn’t.
5. Bake for 50-60 minutes, until the topping is browned and the fruit is bubbling. Serve warm, with ice cream if you roll that way.

Brenda’s Last Season

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Mon, 08 Aug 2011 17:22:00 +0000

One of the reasons I loved Law & Order so much is because New York City, where the show was shot, was a character that was just as important as the ones perpetrating and solving the crimes. When I left New York City for Los Angeles, Law & Order, which was filmed quite often in my Upper West Side neighborhood, was a great comfort and helped somewhat to ease my unrelenting homesickness.

The Closer, which takes place in Los Angeles and stars Kyra Sedgwick, is the same way. The city plays an integral role in each episode. Like with Law & Order, it’s fun to figure out exactly which neighborhood or street all the (fictional) murders are taking place.

Sedgwick’s character, deputy chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, is a sugar-addicted cop from the South who dresses in florals, doesn’t like driving and mispronounces L.A. street names. I completely indentify with Brenda, save for her penchant for florals. It is because of Sedgwick (and the stellar supporting cast) that my affinity for Los Angeles increases every summer, when The Closer returns to TNT for its all-too-short season.

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of meeting G.W. Bailey, a veteran character actor who plays one of Sedgwick’s subordinates on the show. Bailey gets to work both his comedic and dramatic chops playing Lieutenant Provenza, a several-times-divorced detective and gentleman who is one of the elder statesmen of the special homicide squad. Every time I’ve ever seen a famous person, I’ve kept my New York cool and didn’t even acknowledge the person’s existence. Even when I saw Robert DeNiro on Hudson Street once. And, kids, I don’t jest when I say that I spent ages 18–20 trying to figure out what I could do to make Mr. DeNiro fall hopelessly, helplessly in love with me. Okay, so I didn’t keep my cool that day on Hudson Street. I literally couldn’t talk, so I was smart and didn’t even try.

When I saw Bailey, I went right up to him and told him how much I dug him. I was in a restaurant in downtown L.A. celebrating a collective birthday with some friends, whose birthdays also occur in August. Bailey was in the next booth with a cute girl, and both couldn’t have been sweeter. He told us some cool stuff about what would be upcoming on the show—no spoilers, though—and that the cast had just celebrated Sedgwick’s birthday, which, it turns out, is the same day as mine! (She’s two years younger.)

This is Brenda’s last season. She and her amazing gang are leaving TNT for greener pastures, and maybe some of the actors will even get to play criminals on some other cop show. So, why not pay homage to Brenda and bake up a fruit crisp, top it with ice cream and chow down while watching the deputy chief work her sweet magic on the perps?

Nectarine-Plum Crisp

Serves 8

There are so many options in the crisp world! You can make it gluten-free and veganize it; you can add ice cream or whipped cream (dairy or no dairy). You can use virtually any stone fruit you like: peaches, plums, pluots, apricots or even cherries if you have the patience to pit them. I recently made a nectarine-blackberry crisp that was gone by the following day, and I’m going to work in a blueberry crisp during the next week or so.

The filling

8 cups chopped nectarines and plums (this depleted my cache of 8 nectarines and 3 plums)

Juice of 1 lemon

½ cup sugar

1 tablespoon cornstarch

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

The topping

¾ cup all-purpose flour

¾ cup almond meal

½ cup sugar

½ cup brown sugar, packed

¼ teaspoon sea salt

1 stick (8 tablespoons) cold, unsalted butter, diced into small pieces

Vanilla ice cream, optional (but why not?)

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F.

2. In large mixing bowl, stir together fruit, lemon juice, sugar, cornstarch and cinnamon. I usually let everything sit while I make the topping then I pour the fruit into a 9x13 baking dish, but you can pour the fruit into the baking dish as soon as everything’s combined.

3. To make the topping: In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, almond meal, sugars, salt and butter. With clean hands, work through until mixture resembles large crumbs.

4. Sprinkle mixture evenly over the fruit and to cover completely.

5. Bake until the topping is browned and the fruit is bubbling, 50-55 minutes. Serve warm, with vanilla ice cream. It’s what Brenda would do.

What Judy Benjamin Taught Me

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Thu, 28 Jul 2011 02:41:00 +0000

One of my favorite movies of all time is Private Benjamin. I first saw it when I was 17, and it resonated with me for reasons I didn’t really understand. As an adult I understand the liberating journey on which Judy Benjamin (brilliantly played by Goldie Hawn) embarks that brings her to the realization that she doesn’t need a man to be complete.

I have watched this movie probably 30 times, and it always makes me laugh out loud. There are so many great lines in Private Benjamin, but the one that is most vivid to me even now is said during the scene where Judy’s failed attempt to escape from basic training has brought punishment upon her entire platoon. As they march in a circle in the pouring rain weighted down with gear, Judy is whining about wanting to go out to lunch and wear sandals again. One of the girls snaps and turns to Judy and says she’s never met anyone as insensitive as her. Judy is aghast at this charge and denies it by saying, “I never go to someone’s home empty-handed!” I remember thinking, That’s a pretty good rule. I try to live by these words.

Whenever I visit anyone, I always make sure I have some kind of something with me—usually something I’ve baked. If baked goods aren’t appropriate (the only instance I can think of is when someone is on a diet), flowers suffice. Barring this anomaly, I usually show up with cookies, cupcakes or muffins in hand.

I sometimes use girlfriend gatherings to try out a recipe I’ve been mulling over but haven’t yet written or attempted. I made these carrot-coconut muffins to bring to a friend’s one day. We had not seen each other in a long time, and I wanted to bring her something sweet. I also wanted to see what she thought of a gluten-free muffin, since I was pretty sure she had not had many of them. She—and her kids—dug the muffins, so it was a swell visit on all levels.

Judy Benjamin also realized the importance of having girlfriends, and the relationships she develops with the other girls in basic are probably the only true female friendships she’s ever had. While I can guess she probably never made anyone homemade muffins, I know she put a lot of thought into choosing just the right gift to bring to a friend’s house. And if Judy did wind up bringing something sweet, it would definitely be from the bakery—and be fat-free. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Carrot-Coconut Muffins

Gluten-free

Makes a dozen muffins

These are excellent at breakfast or tea time. I prefer unsweetened coconut, but if you have sweetened in the cupboard, go ahead and use that. Blanched almond flour makes for a more cakey muffin, so I really recommend using blanched rather than regular old almond meal.

Canola oil spray (if not using baking cups)

1 cup blanched almond flour

⅔ cup GF Classical Blend flour, sifted, or your favorite gluten-free flour or flour blend

⅓ cup coconut flour

1½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon xanthan gum

¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg

2 eggs, beaten

½ cup sugar

½ cup crushed pineapple, drained

⅓ cup canola oil

¼ cup light coconut milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1½ cups peeled, grated carrot (about 3 medium carrots)

⅓ cup unsweetened shredded coconut

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Prepare muffin pan by lining with baking cups or lightly spraying with canola oil.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flours, baking powder, cinnamon, salt, xanthan gum and nutmeg. In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, sugar, pineapple, oil, coconut milk, and vanilla. Stir dry ingredients into wet. Stir in grated carrot and coconut.

3. Spoon batter into muffin cups until ¾ full and bake 20 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Allow muffins to cool in the pan for 5 minutes or until you can comfortably handle them. Transfer muffins to wire rack to cool completely. These will keep in an airtight container for 2 or 3 days.

Noodles

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 20 Mar 2011 15:11:00 +0000

The one thing I didn’t fully consider when I made the move west from New York City 14 years ago was the food situation. When I told my landlord in New York that we were moving to Los Angeles, he said, “Oy! No place to eat!”

I understood his viewpoint. Within a 10-block walk north or south in our Upper West Side neighborhood there was great Chinese, Southern, Kosher, Cajun, Mexican (several different kinds!), South American, pizza, bagels, and pretty much any other thing you felt like eating.

The first few years in Los Angeles were challenging, but I eventually found good bagels and decent pizza―the two things ex-pat New Yorkers most complain about. Szechuan Chinese is also elusive in Los Angeles, and notably absent is one of my favorite dishes, cold sesame noodles. I love cold sesame noodles so much, I should probably write an entire book dedicated to them, or at least a song.

When I got pregnant with Max, I had just started a staff job at an art-history magazine in Soho. Chinatown, Little Italy and the West Village were all within lunchtime walking distance, but for the first four and a half months of my pregnancy all I could stomach was blueberry Pop-Tarts. Then I flew to Los Angeles for work and something shifted. Maybe it was the warm ocean breeze in Santa Monica; flying over Sedona, Arizona; or a glitch in the matrix, but my appetite returned in full force.

Back in New York, lunchtime became an adventure. For the next 10 weeks, until the massive heartburn kicked in, I could eat anything. I would often walk up to a hole-in-the-wall Szechuan place near NYU and order my beloved cold noodles: no meat, no bean sprouts and extra carrots. Some days they’d be more peppery than others, but the noodles were always perfectly cooked and cold―nothing is worse than warm cold noodles―and the cucumbers and carrots were always crispy and refreshing.

When I finally found good cold noodles in Los Angeles (Pasadena, actually, at Yang Chow), after many heartbreaking tries, I knew I’d be hunkering down here for a while. I guess it’s no wonder that Max also loves cold noodles, with no bean sprouts or meat. Or vegetables.

I’d been trying for several years to make these at home. Each attempt was hotly anticipated, but always ended in misery, with Max pushing away his bowl, telling me, “These don’t taste anything like Yang Chow,” and me discarding the remains. Then I found a recipe for them in Mark Bittman’s How to Cook Everything Vegetarian. I tweaked it a bit and finally came up with something both Max and I liked. When I make these at home, I make sure to eat some before Max is around because once he sits down to consume, it isn’t long before the bowl is empty and he’s asking when I’m going to make some more.

Cold Peanut-Sesame Noodles

Vegan

Serves 4, or 1 if you are a teenage boy

I like crunchy peanut butter for this but smooth is just as good. If you want to add bean sprouts or chicken, feel free. You can also add some minced scallions as a garnish. The heat is a bit on the tame side, so if you like hotter sauce, add more cayenne or some chili oil. Whatever you do, don’t eat these warm. Really cool them off before combining with the sauce. Warm cold noodles put me in a foul mood, and I wouldn’t want you to think they aren’t worthy simply because you didn’t cool them off enough.

Salt

1 cup peanut butter

3 tablespoons sesame oil

1 tablespoon agave nectar

3 tablespoons soy sauce, or to taste

1 teaspoons ground ginger

1 tablespoon mirin

½ tablespoon rice vinegar

Dash cayenne pepper

Freshly ground black pepper

1 pound spaghetti or other long noodle

1 large cucumber

2 large carrots

Roasted sesame seeds for garnish

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Salt it liberally.

2. While water is coming to a boil, whisk together peanut butter, sesame oil, agave, soy sauce, ground ginger, mirin, rice vinegar, cayenne and black peppers. When water boils, before adding the noodles, take out ¾ cup water and whisk in to the sauce. Sauce should be the consistency of heavy cream. Taste it and add more of whatever you think it needs―ginger, soy sauce, agave, pepper. Put it in the fridge until you’re ready to use it.

3. Cook noodles per package instructions. Drain and run under cold water until the heat is gone. Drain again. Run under cool water again. Drain. Can you see how serious I am about getting the heat off the noodles?

4. Whisk sauce and toss noodles with it. Peel carrots and cucumber and shave off strips. Top noodles with them. Sprinkle a bit of salt onto the veggies. Garnish with roasted sesame seeds. Leftovers will keep in the fridge for a few days. Unless you have a teenager.

Nutella

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 06 Mar 2011 16:11:00 +0000

A while ago, Max and I were watching TV and a Nutella commercial came on. The commercial, which I had never seen before, touted the nutritional benefits of the chocolate-hazelnut spread and said it was part of a healthy breakfast. When the commercial was over, Max said, “Is that a commercial from Saturday Night Live? That can’t be a real commercial.” When I told him I thought it was a real commercial he couldn’t stop laughing. Max wasn’t around when Cap’n Crunch was advertised the same way so he has no point of reference.

We pulled out the almost-empty jar of Nutella we had in the cupboard to see its nutritional benefits for ourselves. Per tablespoon there is 1 gram of protein, 6 grams of fat and 11 grams of sugar. Still waiting for the nutritional benefits? Me too. Okay, so it’s not healthy. It’s creamy, sweet perfection in a recyclable plastic jar.

I came to Nutella late in life. I had often heard people talk about it and I had seen it in the grocery store, but I abstained until a few years ago. I saw a recipe for crêpes in an old issue of Vegetarian Times. I’d wanted to make crêpes for a while, so I was happy to find such an easy recipe. The only filling mentioned that really spoke to me was Nutella. I love chocolate and I love hazelnuts, so, I figured, it was time to dive right into the crêpes and the Nutella.

I don’t think I could eat crêpes filled with anything else now. I’ve tried. Max prefers butter and raspberry jam, so I gave that a go. Not even close. I keep saying I’m going to sauté apple slices in butter and brown sugar for the filling, but I’ve yet to do that. Nutella has a hold on me that I think only a baseball bat to the skull can break. Nah, probably not even that.

Parisian-style Sweet Crêpes

Makes 8 crêpes

From Vegetarian Times, September 2009

Don’t feel boxed in by my Nutella habit, you can fill these with just about anything you want. The recipe calls for ⅓ cup of sugar, but I use about 2 tablespoons. The batter keeps in the fridge for a few days, so if you want to make just a few crêpes at a time you can. After refrigerating, you have to mix it up a bit before you start crêpeing. I’ve used almond milk when I didn’t have regular milk, and it was quite tasty.

You’re supposed to dip a paper towel into some canola oil and run it over a nonstick pan for greasing. (Yup, you need a nonstick pan.) Sometimes I forget to do this and pour a little oil directly into the pan. I’ve lived to tell about it, so I think you can go either way.

1¼ cups all-purpose flour

⅓ cup sugar

½ teaspoon salt

1 large egg, lightly beaten

1 cup low-fat milk (or whatever milk you have in the fridge)

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Canola oil

1. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar and salt. Whisk in egg; mixture will be shaggy. (This is Vegetarian Times speak. I looked for a definition for this, and I couldn’t find one. It means, I think, that it will look like you need to add more egg. You don’t.) Whisk in milk ¼ cup at a time. Whisk in vanilla. Cover and chill 30 minutes or as long as overnight. (I do overnight all the time.)

2. Whisk ¼ to ½ cup water into batter to thin. (I use ¼ cup.) Lightly grease nonstick skillet pan with canola oil. Heat pan over medium-high heat.

3. Pour ¼ cup batter into hot pan, tilting pan to swirl batter so it coats bottom of pan. Cook 1 to 2 minutes or until edges begin to brown and center is dry. Flip (with or without the aid of a spatula). Cook about 1 minute more.

4. Transfer crêpe to plate, and repeat with remaining batter. Before serving: Reheat 1 minute in lightly greased skillet. Spread with whatever fillings you like, fold in quarters and feed people.

I Heart the Soup Nazi

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 27 Feb 2011 16:13:00 +0000

Years before Seinfeld immortalized the Soup Nazi, whose real name is Al Yeganeh, I spent many a lunch hour plunking down my money on Mr. Yeganeh’s counter as I placed my order and swiftly moved to the left to wait for the best soup in North America. Shrimp bisque, mulligatawny, cream of sweet potato and vegetable chili warmed me during several impossible New York winters. Hitting the Soup Kitchen International, the proper name of Mr. Yeganeh’s establishment, was usually the highlight of a day filled with deadlines, cranky writers and a Mac that was constantly crashing.

Mr. Yeganeh was never mean to me. Along with my soup, he would always give me a crusty hunk of French bread (my favorite), a bunch of sweet green grapes and a medallion of milk chocolate wrapped in gold foil. He would also smile at me more often than not. I found Mr. Yeganeh pretty easy on the eyes. Tall, dark, handsome and wearing a kerchief about his neck, he could easily have created his off-putting persona simply to keep the ladies from flirting with him so he could concentrate on soup. It’s just a theory.

One of my coworkers, Colleen, seemed to incite Mr. Yeganeh’s ire every time she visited the Soup Kitchen. She would often come back to the office without bread, fruit or chocolate and sometimes without even a spoon. This completely entertained me, and I looked forward to Colleen’s Soup Kitchen misadventures. Colleen is a freewheeling, loquacious chick, so I can see her trying to strike up a conversation with Mr. Yeganeh, not putting her money down as she orders and asking outright for bread and chocolate, all of which were forbidden.

There was a flavor in Mr. Yeganeh’s vegetable chili that I could never put my finger on. It was sweet and warm, and after years of creating my own variations of that chili, I think I finally hit on what it was: chocolate. Now, I could be completely wrong here, but I have come close to duplicating the taste of his chili by adding chocolate to mine.

Mr. Yeganeh’s Soup Kitchen closed in 2004, but he never gave up the lease. That’s a real New Yorker for you. When I was walking down West 55^th Street in October, I noticed his store had reopened and there was a massive line once again snaking up the block. I was late for a meeting, so I didn't stop in. After a little digging I found out that although the shop had reopened, Mr. Yeganeh would no longer be working behind the counter.

It’s because of him that I keep my finger on the creative soup pulse. Maybe since he’s clearly conquered the East Coast, he can be convinced to open up shop somewhere on the Left Coast. I can dream, can’t I?

Chunky Two-Bean Chili

Serves 4

This chili recipe is all about options. If you don’t like kidney beans, swap them out for pintos or add more black beans. The heat on this is pretty tame, so if you want more, chop up and seed a jalapeño or two and sauté with the rest of the veggies. Chili powders have varying degrees of heat, so know how hot your chili powder is and adjust the amount accordingly. Nothing’s worse than chili that’s too spicy to enjoy. I have flown in the face of bean-cooking convention here by not soaking the beans beforehand and salting them while cooking. Follow my example. Live dangerously.

Black Beans

1 cup black beans

6 cups water

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 bay leaf

Chili

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 large shallot, chopped

2 garlic cloves, chopped

1 red bell pepper, cored, seeded and chopped

4 tomatillos, husked, cleaned and chopped

1 teaspoon sea salt

½ teaspoon ground black pepper

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon ground coriander

2 teaspoons ground cumin

2 teaspoons chili powder (mine is a bit on the hot side)

1 (15 oz.) can red kidney beans, drained and rinsed

1 (28 oz.) can crushed tomatoes

⅓ cup bittersweet chocolate chips or chopped bittersweet chocolate (Trader Joe’s 73% cacao rules)

Garnishes

Chopped fresh cilantro

Sliced avocado

Shredded Monterey Jack cheese

Sour cream or plain yogurt

Toasted corn or flour tortillas for scooping

1. Rinse and drain black beans and discard any rocks or funky-looking (discolored, wrinkly) beans.

2. In heavy soup pot, combine black beans, 6 cups of water, salt and bay leaf. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, partially covered, until beans are tender, about 1½ hours. Keep an eye on the water, and add more if needed, 1 cup at a time. Beans should have some liquid remaining, but they should not be overly soupy.

3. When beans are almost done, prepare the vegetables. In large saucepan, heat the olive oil and sauté the shallot, garlic, red pepper, and tomatillos until tender, 10-15 minutes.

4. When beans are completely tender, remove the bay leaf, and add the sautéed vegetables and any remaining oil, the salt, pepper, spices, kidney beans, crushed tomatoes, and chocolate chips. Bring chili to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, until chili thickens and flavors meld, about 30 minutes. Stir occasionally. Remove pot from heat and let chili cool for about 20 minutes before pureeing two cups in blender. If you try to puree hot liquid in a blender, the people who move into your house after you will inherit the splatter, and they will curse you. Return pureed chili to pot and mix through. Taste, and add salt and pepper if needed. Heat through until warm, about 5 minutes.

5. Ladle into bowls and heap on whichever garnishes speak to you.

A Coupla White Chicks Sitting Around Eating

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 18:06:00 +0000

My editorial job at Mademoiselle did more than start my career in publishing, it broadened my culinary horizons. Thanks to working lunches, birthday gatherings and gut-busting company soirees, I became acquainted with fried calamari, vichyssoise, oysters Rockefeller, ratatouille, profiteroles, steak frites, and lemon bars and tuna sandwiches made by someone other than my mom. It was a heady time in magazine publishing: We worked hard and ate well, and the company footed the bill.

I had ratatouille for the first time at the Grand Central Café, which was then located in the mezzanine in Grand Central Station. Oh, God was that a great place to eat. My pals Nancy, Joanne and I would head across the street to the GCC, find a table and tear into the lightest, fluffiest, most delicious French bread this side of the pond. I don’t remember specifically what we talked about, I just remember a lot of laughing and withering stares from those who wanted a more subdued dining experience. I know, those seeking a more subdued dining experience should probably go somewhere other than Grand Central Station for lunch. I followed blindly into the ratatouille one chilly afternoon after Nancy ordered it. I figured, I like eggplant and tomatoes, so what could be bad? Besides, if it was gross, I could always fill up on bread and cheesecake and give Nancy the leftovers. I was happy to find it warm, comforting and acidic and sweet at the same time. It could be heaped with Parmesan cheese and scooped onto slices of French bread. It was perfect.

While Joanne was partial to the baked brie and apple, Nancy and I were major ratatouille fans, and we ordered it time and time again. Later that year, Nancy moved on to Rolling Stone, Joanne to a reporting job at a weekly, and I started the freelance life. We would meet for lunch when our schedules allowed, but I didn’t eat ratatouille again for a very long time.

When the hankering for ratatouille came over me a while back and I didn’t have anywhere to go to eat it, I had to take matters into my own hands and make it myself. I got the bright idea to roast the eggplant, which definitely makes it a more “meaty” dish―more like a casserole than a stew—which is very satisfying during this rainy cold spell we’re having in Los Angeles. Yup, it’s in the 40s. East Coasters, feel free to start laughing anytime.

Roasted Ratatouille Gratin

Makes 4 main-course servings

Gird your loins, dear reader: This is a flavorful vegetarian dish that requires mucho chopping. I can assure you, when you taste the fresh herbs simmered perfectly with the veggies and wine, you will forget that your back hurts and that your kitchen looks like the men of the WWE have just passed through. Chop everything prior to starting. No kidding.

This is great with warm crusty bread and a green salad and tastes even better a day or two after you make it. If you’ve never cooked with leeks before, make sure you clean them really well. They’re very gritty, and nothing ruins the taste of food more than dirt.

1 medium red pepper

Canola oil spray

1 medium eggplant (about 1 pound), cut into 1-inch cubes

¼ cup olive oil, divided

1 leek, white part only, thinly sliced

1 large shallot, finely chopped

1 cup thinly sliced zucchini (about 1 medium)

1 cup sliced cremini mushrooms (about 5 medium)

1 teaspoon sea salt

Dash black pepper

½ cup dry white wine (sauvignon blanc is nice)

1 (28-ounce) can good-quality plum tomatoes, chopped, with their juices to make 2 cups

1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary

1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1 tablespoon dry bread crumbs

½ cup chopped fresh basil for garnish

1. Seriously, cut up everything and set aside until needed. Do the eggplant last, as it turns brownish after being cut. Preheat oven to 425° F. Place whole red pepper on a baking sheet and roast for 20 minutes.

2. Spray another baking sheet with canola oil and place eggplant on it in a single layer. Drizzle with 2 tablespoons olive oil and toss to combine. Sprinkle with salt and pepper.

3. Turn red pepper over after 20 minutes. Add eggplant to oven, and roast until both are tender, about 15 minutes more.

4. While the eggplant and pepper are roasting, heat 2 tablespoons olive oil in a large soup pot over medium heat. Stir in leek and shallot and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Stir in zucchini and continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until zucchini is soft, 6-8 minutes. Stir in mushrooms, 1 teaspoon salt, dash black pepper, and wine. Simmer until mushrooms are soft, about 8 minutes.

5. Remove eggplant and pepper from oven. Turn oven down to 400°. Cover pepper with aluminum foil. Covering it creates steam that will loosen its skin, making the skin easier to remove. Allow pepper to cool about 10 minutes before handling.

6. Stir in the eggplant, tomatoes and their juices, thyme, and rosemary. Bring back up to a simmer.

7. After pepper has cooled, remove the skin, core, and seeds. Chop flesh and add to the stockpot.

8. Simmer, covered, for 5 minutes to combine flavors. Taste, and add salt and pepper if needed.

9. Pour everything into an 8x8 baking dish. Top with Parmesan and bread crumbs. Bake until topping is browned, about 20 minutes. Allow ratatouille to stand 10 minutes before serving.

10. Garnish each serving with fresh basil. Make sure to have more freshly grated Parmesan on hand to pass at the table. Assign clean-up and shoulder-massage detail and to whoever didn’t participate in preparing this.

World Peace

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 13 Feb 2011 19:55:00 +0000

The situation in Egypt is gripping. I’m all for healthy protest, and I’m happy the Egyptian people have used their voices to create a change in leadership. What really has my attention with regard to the foment in Egypt is the photojournalism coming out of there. Photojournalism is an art form that I don’t think gets enough respect. With the advent of digital cameras and now the iPhone being used as a legitimate tool, I think our future will be rife with an abundance of stunning, horrifying, heartbreaking, and beautiful images from around the world.

I think if I could be anywhere in the world right now, I’d choose to be in Afghanistan with an iPhone loaded with camera apps. One of my favorite photographers, Damon Winter, works for the New York Times and has made some incredible photos in Afghanistan. There was a great post on the Times’ Lens blog this week about Mr. Winter’s work and the iPhone. When I was first learning about photography I railed against toying with photos after they were shot, whether in the dark room or on the computer. I have come to see that as a narrow viewpoint and have fully embraced any technology that will allow an artist rapid, meaningful communication and the realization of his or her vision.

Perhaps you’ll think I’m naive, but I truly believe art can change the world. And that means world peace is a possibility. While I may not see this in my or my child’s lifetime, thinking about it gives me some comfort.

Until I can trek to the far reaches of the globe and document others’ triumphs and tragedies, I will bake. I may not be able to kick world peace fully into gear from my Los Angeles kitchen, but I can bake the incomparable Dorie Greenspan’s treacherously delicious World Peace Cookies. I think you should, too.

World Peace Cookies
Recipe by Dorie Greenspan
Makes about 36 cookies

Dorie says this recipe yields 36 cookies, but I get about 30. I’m probably cutting them too thick, but since I’ve gotten no complaints, I’m going to keep cutting them the way I cut them. All hyperbole aside, these are the best cookies I’ve ever eaten. I find that making the dough and refrigerating it the day before I bake the cookies is the best way to go with these. Dorie’s recipe calls for ¼ teaspoon of fine sea salt, but I used ½ teaspoon. Also, make sure your butter is really soft. Really soft.

1¼ cups all-purpose flour

⅓ cup unsweetened cocoa powder (I used Ghirardelli)

½ teaspoon baking soda

11 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 stick plus 3 tablespoons), room temperature

⅔ cup light brown sugar (packed)

¼ cup sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ teaspoon fine sea salt

5 ounces dark chocolate, chopped in pieces no bigger than ⅓ of an inch (I used Ghirardelli 60% cacao)

1. Sift flour, cocoa and baking soda into medium bowl. Using an electric mixer, beat butter in a large mixing bowl until smooth but not fluffy. Add sugars, vanilla and sea salt and beat until fluffy, about 2 minutes.

2. Add flour mixture and beat until just blended. This sucker is going to be crumbly. Add the chopped chocolate and mix to distribute.

3. Knead dough gently into a ball. Divide dough in half. Place each half on a sheet of plastic wrap, then form into a 1½-inch–diameter log. (I am not exact about this. I roll the dough halves into logs that are about the same shape. This doesn’t always work out as well as I’d like.) Wrap each in plastic and refrigerate until firm, about 3 hours. Dorie says you can do this 3 days in advance if you like. I find a day in advance the best.

4. Preheat oven to 325°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment. Using a thin, sharp knife, cut logs crosswise into ½-inch-thick rounds. (I estimate this and try my best. Heck, there’s not a test on this so just try your best!) Space an inch apart on the baking sheet. Bake 11 to 12 minutes, until cookies appear dry. They aren’t going to be firm or golden at the edges, so you’re just going to have to trust this timing, brothers and sisters. Transfer to a rack and cool. Repeat until the dough is all used up.

5. Store these in an airtight container, where they’ll be good for 3 or 4 days. They probably won’t last that long, though.

Apple Cake

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 18:05:00 +0000

The apple cake is a popular item with my family on the East Coast. My mother routinely makes it for my brother-in-law and nephew, collectively known as the Seths. Last year, she gave me the recipe she adapted from Betty Crocker’s Cookbook. She made a few changes—added nutmeg (brilliant!) and more walnuts—but she stuck pretty close to the original, which is one of the variations of Betty’s carrot cake.

In my West Coast home, however, apple cake is not nearly as popular. Max doesn’t eat cake, and Dan doesn’t eat hot fruit. I love both cake and hot fruit, and when I came back to Los Angeles from New York a few weeks ago I had apple cake on the brain. I dug out my mother’s handwritten recipe and got to work.

I altered her recipe mostly by cutting it in half. I knew I was going to be the only one eating this cake, so eating an 8x8 cake is far more tenable than eating a 9x13 cake. Her recipe didn’t specify whether to peel the apples, so I didn’t. (She later told me that this was assumed. I told her if it isn’t written it isn’t assumed.) I futzed with the spices a bit and used Honeycrisp apples instead of Granny Smith. I forgot that there were walnuts in the freezer, so I just left them out. I didn’t really forget the walnuts. I just don’t like walnuts. There. I’ve said it.

The apple cake that I pulled out of the oven was the best apple cake I’ve ever eaten. I don’t make this statement lightly. To make sure I wasn’t being too single minded, I made several other versions of the apple cake—one with walnuts, one with butter and almond extract—and each attempt brought me back to the first apple cake with the unpeeled apples.

Just to make sure I wasn’t getting goofy, I made the first version again. It was just as fine as I had remembered. The Seths enjoy their apple cake with whipped cream; I like a scoop or two of vanilla ice cream. That is, of course, if the apple cake is being eaten as a dessert and not a breakfast food. At breakfast, it’s fine all by itself. You don’t really even need a fork.

Apple Cake

Makes 9 servings

Adapted from Betty Crocker’s Cookbook

I recently baked with raw sugar, and I fell in love with it. If you just have regular granulated sugar, go ahead and use it. I like just a hint of spice here, but if you like more boldy flavored baked goods, please feel free to add more cinnamon or nutmeg. I think a little ground ginger might be nice here, too.

Canola oil spray

¾ cup raw sugar

½ cup canola oil

2 large eggs, room temperature

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

¾ teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ teaspoon sea salt

¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 medium, sweet apples (Fuji, Honeycrisp, whatever’s in season), cored and chopped

Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Spray 8x8 baking pan with canola oil.

2. Beat sugar, oil and eggs with electric mixer on low until blended, about 30 seconds. Beat in flour, baking soda, cinnamon, salt, nutmeg and vanilla. Fold in chopped apples and cover them with the batter as best as you can. Batter will be very thick—kinda like peanut butter.

3. Scrape batter into prepared pan and bake until golden and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean, about 30 to 35 minutes.

4. Cool on rack and serve warm or at room temperature. (I like this warm with vanilla ice cream. No, I lurve it warm with vanilla ice cream.) Store remainder of cake in the baking pan, covered, for 2 days. I put this in the fridge, but you don’t have to roll that way if you don’t want to.

Sabbatical

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 26 Dec 2010 18:32:00 +0000

There are times in life when sabbaticals are necessary. This fall I took a baking sabbatical. Baking had ceased to be fun and my butt had ceased to be human size, so I thought it best to ease off the baking for a while.

During the few months I didn’t bake, I found myself not really missing it. This surprised me, as I thought I’d be continually fighting with myself as I rolled my grocery cart down the baking aisle. It was actually nice not to think about baking for a while. I knew when I was ready, I’d return to it with vigor and excitement.

My baking sabbatical coincided with another sabbatical: one from my marriage. Dan and I decided to separate for a bit, so I went east to spend time with my sister, Wendy, and her family. As soon as my plane left the ground, I began to panic. The words of a good friend of mine, Charles, who is divorced, rang in my ears. Charles told me that the way to mend a marriage is not to separate. As I settled into a marathon of Law and Order: Criminal Intent for the five-hour flight, I wondered if I had just made a very big mistake.

It turns out that what didn’t work for Charles worked quite well for me. Spending time in Rhinebeck, New York, with Wendy, my wonderful brother-in-law, Seth, and my favorite niece and nephew, Sammi and Seth Robert; walking in the country; getting hooked on Dancing with the Stars; laughing a lot and breathing truly fresh air was incredibly therapeutic. I can’t say it saved the marriage, but I know it saved me.

A few days after I came back to Los Angeles, I was rummaging around in the kitchen and I got the sudden urge to bake. There wasn’t much in the way of ingredients, as I had been gone and on sabbatical, but I managed to put together a decent batch of mocha chip cookies. I had never made these before, and they were totally improvisational and totally delicious.

I’ve really learned to loosen my control on just about everything. Going through life trying to control everything is a prescription for profound heartbreak. For the first time in my life I’m not planning my every move and my every minute. And I have to say, it feels pretty good. Who knows? Some really extraordinary cookies could come out of it.

Mocha Chip Cookies

Makes about 20 3½-inch cookies

Feel free to add more espresso if you want more intense flavor here. You can also get a bigger yield if you go with a smaller cookie.

1¾ cups all-purpose flour

¼ cup unsweetened cocoa powder

2 tablespoons instant espresso

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1¾ sticks (14 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

¾ cup brown sugar, packed

½ cup sugar

⅓ cup unsweetened applesauce

1 teaspoon almond extract

1 cup semisweet chocolate chips (my favorite is Whole Foods’ 365 vegan semisweet chips)

1. Preheat oven to 375° F. Line baking sheet with parchment. If you don’t want to use parchment, that’s fine. Just don’t grease the baking sheet.

2. In medium bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder, espresso, baking soda and salt. In large bowl, whisk together butter, sugars, applesauce and almond extract. Mix dry ingredients into wet ingredients until combined. Stir in chocolate chips.

3. Drop tablespoons of dough onto baking sheet, leaving room between each. I do 9 cookies per batch. Bake 11 minutes. Let cool on baking sheet for 5 minutes then transfer to rack. When completely cooled, store in airtight container for up to 3 days.

Real Hot Chocolate

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 19 Dec 2010 16:14:00 +0000

It’s raining and coldish in Los Angeles again. (I say coldish so my East Coast friends and family don’t tease me mercilessly: It’s 50 here, as opposed to in the teens there.) Winter is knocking at the door and that means one thing: hot chocolate.

For the past two months I’ve been on a hot chocolate quest. I’ve had the powered stuff, the real stuff and I’ve made several different iterations myself. This is probably a never-ending quest, but so far my favorite restaurant versions have been Joan’s on Third (it was the day before Halloween and the barista made a little ghost out of the steamed milk!) and Aroma Café (the whipped cream is streaked with chocolate syrup!). Which brings me to my hot chocolate revelation: The perfect cup of chocolate must have the perfect balance of sweetness and chocolatiness. You know what I mean if you’ve ever had a cup that was overwhelming in either department.

Real hot chocolate has spoiled me for good, and I can safely say I will probably not go back to any kind of powdered stuff made with water. It’s gotta be the real thing made with some kinda milk. One has to have standards, don’t you agree?

Real Hot Chocolate

Vegan

Serves 1

Feel free to use regular milk here if you want. There is, however, a great variety of dairy-free milks to choose from: hazelnut, oat, rice, coconut as well as almond and soy. A lot of dairy-free milks have added sugar, and I find they make the hot chocolate a bit too sweet. I’ve made this with chocolate chips, and it’s hard to get those suckers to dissolve completely. I heard Ina Garten say that chocolate chips are made with stabilizers so they retain their form in cookies. I think Ina’s right. (Again.) If you’re rolling vegan with this, make sure whatever chocolate you use is free of dairy.

8 ounces unsweetened vanilla almond milk

2 ounces finely chopped dark chocolate (I like Scharffen Berger 62% cacao)

1 or 2 tablespoons coconut milk (optional)

1. Combine the almond milk and chocolate in a small saucepan and heat, whisking constantly, until almond milk and chocolate become one. Simmer gently until the milk is steaming but not boiling.

2. Pour hot chocolate into your favorite mug. Stir in a tablespoon or two of coconut milk if you roll that way. Drink and enjoy.

Is Funny, Hates Cake

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Thu, 16 Dec 2010 16:09:00 +0000

Max spent his junior year of high school at boarding school in Texas. This would not have been my choice, but Max said he wanted to go to away because he wanted to “get serious about school.”

Max has never been very keen on school, so his wanting to “get serious about school” was a big deal. Each morning since he was in preschool, I’d practically have to wrestle him out of bed to get him to school on time. For a few months when he was 6, he would pretend to be dead when I came in to wake him. He was extremely convincing. One morning I began reading the definition of fart from the dictionary in a really nerdy voice. It’s hard to pretend to be dead when you’re laughing. And, if you’re not dead, you must get up and go to school.

This worked well for a few weeks, then I had to do it in a French accent, then as various cartoon characters, then as my mother-in-law. All good shows eventually close, though, and after he no longer found his grandmother’s worldview on flatulence entertaining, he went back to pretending he was dead. I found this funny and I admired his commitment, so it was impossible to be angry with him.

Whenever I get angry at Max he completely disarms me with humor. He knows what makes me laugh and he wields it like a sword whenever I try to discipline him. Since he’s now looking down the barrel of 19, this doesn’t happen anymore. Lucky for me.

When I was pregnant, I wanted a healthy child, of course, but I also wished for a funny child. The thought of a child with no sense of humor was just unbearable. I got what I wished for.

The one thing I didn’t consider when I was making a wish list for the kind of child I’d get is the eating factor. Max is the only child I’ve ever met who doesn’t like cake. This has to be a genetic anomaly. There is no one in my family or Dan’s who refuses cake. After almost 19 years, I’ve finally made my peace with this. Max can mimic perfectly just about anyone he hears and quip with the best of them, but he will not abide a birthday cake.

Max brings me the gift of laughter every day, something I consider more valuable than straight A’s, excellence in sports or any of the other myriad things by which we gauge our children’s contribution. So, he won’t eat cake. That I can live with.

Blueberry Breakfast Cake with Sweet Almond Crunch

Vegan

Makes 9 servings

Entenmann’s Louisiana Crunch Cake was my inspiration for this cake, and, nope, Max won’t eat that, either. In case you’ve never eaten the Louisiana Crunch Cake, it’s a moist yellow cake that’s sort of Bundt shaped, and it’s covered with this crunchy-sweet glaze. It’s delicious and filled with so much crap I’m kind of embarrassed to admit how much I love it. I know blueberries aren’t in season now, so if you want to leave them out, go right ahead. Since Entenmann’s doesn’t use real fruit in its cakes, feel free to follow suit.

Topping

1 tablespoon toasted almonds, finely chopped

1 tablespoon brown sugar

Cake

Canola oil spray

2 cups all-purpose flour plus more for the blueberries

1 teaspoon salt

2 teaspoons baking powder

⅓ cup canola oil

¾ cup sugar

⅓ cup unsweetened applesauce

½ cup unsweetened almond milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ teaspoon almond extract

1 cup blueberries

1. In a small bowl, mix together almonds and sugar and set aside. Preheat oven to 350°F. Spray 8x8 baking pan with canola oil.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, salt, and baking powder. In a large bowl, whisk together oil, sugar, applesauce, almond milk and vanilla and almond extracts. Stir dry ingredients into wet until combined. Combine blueberries with a pinch or two of flour so they don’t settle at the bottom of the cake. Gently fold blueberries in to batter.

3. Spoon batter into pan and make sure it’s evenly distributed. Sprinkle topping onto cake. Bake 28-30 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Let cake cool completely in pan on rack before cutting and serving. You can store leftover cake, covered, in the baking pan for up to 2 days.

Equal-opportunity Baking

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 15:29:00 +0000

I like to think of myself as an equal-opportunity baker. If someone wants a gluten-free cookie, I’ll make it. If someone asks for a vegan cupcake, I’m there. If someone (my niece and nephew, especially) wants a cookie with eggs and butter, I’m happy to oblige. The only baking feat I don’t seem to be able to accomplish is a gluten-free, vegan cake. Well, let me rephrase: The only baking feat I don’t seem to be able to accomplish is a gluten-free, vegan cake that I would be willing to eat.

Some of the gf, vegan stuff made by professionals that I’ve actually paid money for has been, shall I say, less than satisfactory. I can’t believe people are actually shelling out dough to eat stuff that tastes like it’s spent its more flavorful days in a box buried in the Mojave.

Baking is always an adventure, whether you’re making something straight up or you’re improvising to meet dietary needs. Chocolate cupcakes are just about one of my favorite things. I make killer vegan ones, and I developed killer gluten-free ones. But, alas, I cannot make killer gluten-free, vegan chocolate cupcakes. While I figure that one out, please enjoy my offering here.

Chocolate Cupcakes with Chocolate-Mascarpone Frosting

Gluten-free

Makes 12 cupcakes

Mascarpone is less tangy than cream cheese, and I much prefer it to the latter. If you think these cupcakes need a bit more excitement, you can top them with chopped roasted hazelnuts, chocolate chips or toasted coconut.

Cupcakes

Canola oil spray (if you’re not using baking cups)

1 cup blanched almond flour

⅔ cup GF Classical Blend flour, or your favorite gluten-free flour, sifted

⅓ cup coconut flour

1 scant cup sugar

½ cup good unsweetened cocoa powder, sifted

1 tablespoon instant espresso powder

1½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon xanthan gum

½ teaspoon sea salt

2 eggs, room temperature

½ cup unsweetened almond milk

½ cup light coconut milk

⅓ cup canola oil

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ teaspoon almond extract

Frosting

1 stick (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened

½ cup mascarpone, softened

Pinch salt

1 cup confectioners’ sugar, sifted

2 ounces dark chocolate, melted and cooled

2 tablespoons light coconut milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Line baking pan with muffin cups or spray with canola oil.

2. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flours, sugar, cocoa powder, espresso powder, baking powder, xanthan gum and sea salt. In another large mixing bowl, whisk together eggs, almond and coconut milks, canola oil and vanilla and almond extracts. Stir dry ingredients into wet until well combined.

3. Spoon batter into muffin cups to ¾ full and bake 20-22 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Transfer cupcakes to rack to cool completely, about an hour.

4. For the frosting: Using an electric mixer, beat together butter and mascarpone. Add salt and ½ cup confectioners’ sugar, and then add a tablespoon of light coconut milk. Add the chocolate and beat until combined. Add remaining ½ cup confectioners’ sugar, followed by second tablespoon of coconut milk, beating well to incorporate. Taste and make sure frosting is sweet enough. If you need more confectioners’ sugar, feel free to add it. You’ll also need to add a bit more coconut milk. Add vanilla and beat until fluffy, about 2 minutes.

5. Frost the cupcakes only after they have cooled completely. If you want to add toppings, now’s the time. Serve and refrigerate the leftovers for up to 3 days.

Scones

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Thu, 09 Dec 2010 16:00:00 +0000

The mid-90s are a bit of a blur for me. I was working full-time, Max was a baby prone to frequent ear infections alternating with the croup and Dan was working extremely long hours and was home basically to sleep. There was one thing I looked forward to each day: my afternoon scone. My afternoon scone was made by the Grand Marnier Café on Broadway between 55^th and 56^th streets. It was the size of a softball, and it’s soft, eggy center was filled with sweet, juicy blueberries. The top had a delightful sugar crunch, the shards of which would either fall into my lap or onto whatever manuscript I was working on.

The afternoon scone and the accompanying café au lait would sometimes have to tide me over until lunch the next day. The working-mom thing had me so busy there were many nights that after I finally got Max to sleep, I would then choose sleep over food. I was kinda goofy during that time, but I was thin. Sigh.

The Grand Marnier Café closed sometime after I moved to Los Angeles. Every time I go back home I pass by that block, hoping maybe it’s been revived. Since I’ve yet to find a decent gluten-free scone, I’ve taken it upon myself to re-create those amazing treats. Since blueberries aren’t in season now and I don’t like raisins, I went with apples. California-grown Fujis are in season now, and they are mouth-watering. They also don’t stain clothing or papers when they manage to elude your mouth. Biting into a sweet, juicy apple-y bit is almost as thrilling as biting into a sweet, juicy blueberry-y bit. When blueberries are in season, you can bet that blueberry scones will be on the menu.

Apple Scones

Gluten-free

Makes about 12 scones

Adapted from How to Cook Everything Vegetarian by Mark Bittman

I tried to duplicate these as best as I could. They don’t taste exactly like the works of art from the Grand Marnier Café, probably because these are gluten-free. I used a sweet Fuji apple here, but feel free to use whichever kind of apple you like best. With regard to the shapes, I’m a complete spaz and cannot be counted on to cut triangles deftly. So I used a biscuit cutter. If you have a natural talent for triangle cutting, chuck the biscuit cutter and do your worst.

1½ cup GF Classical Blend flour, or your favorite gf flour

1 cup blanched almond flour

2 tablespoons sugar, divided

1 tablespoon baking powder

½ teaspoon xanthan gum

½ teaspoon salt

5 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

½ cup half-and-half

4 large eggs

1 medium apple, peeled, cored and chopped (about ¾ cup)

1. Preheat oven to 400°F. Line baking sheet with parchment.

2. In a food processor, add flours, 1 tablespoon sugar, baking powder, xanthan gum and salt. Add the butter and pulse until the butter resembles small peas and the ingredients are well combined. If you don’t own a food processor (or you just don’t feel like washing the blade and bowl), pour everything into a mixing bowl and work the butter into the dry ingredients using your hands.

3. In a large mixing bowl, vigorously whisk together 3 eggs and the half-and-half. Stir in the dry ingredients. Stir in the chopped apple. Turn the dough out onto a clean, well-floured surface and knead it 10 times, no more. If it’s sticky, add a bit more flour, but not too much. It should be a bit sticky.

4. Shape the dough into a ¾-inch-thick rectangle and either cut shapes with a biscuit cutter or cut triangles with a knife. If you’re using a biscuit cutter, you can shape the dough into a circle, which is what I did. Reshape leftover dough and cut more scones. Repeat until you are out of dough.

5. Beat the remaining egg with 1 tablespoon water and brush the top of each scone with a pastry brush. Sprinkle each scone with the remaining 1 tablespoon of sugar.

6. Bake until the scones are golden brown, about 14 minutes. They will last about 2 days, so get eating!

Meyer Lemons

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 15:39:00 +0000

There’s no place I’d rather be as winter closes in than right here in Los Angeles. Walking around my neighborhood and breathing in the scent of the budding orange blossoms is unlike anything else I’ve experienced. When I lived in New York, I would always find comfort in the smell of lemon and basil cooking away in some olive oil or butter. It would remind me that spring was imminent, and I would mark days off the calendar until the snow cleared for good and the temperature was consistently warm.

I first discovered Meyer lemons when my friend Kathy gifted me a bagful from the extremely productive tree in her Pasadena backyard. Kathy was overrun with lemons and was almost to the point of building a stand on the sidewalk in front of her house to give them away to passersby. I would hit her up several times during the winter for Meyers and I used every last one of them.

Meyer lemons are a lemon-orange hybrid. That makes them a bit sweeter than a regular lemon, but nowhere near as sweet as an orange. They’re in season from November to May, and I use them liberally in both baking and cooking.

In June 2006 Dan and I planted a Meyer lemon tree in our backyard. We got a few lemons the first year and more than a dozen last year. This winter our little tree is taking a rest, and Kathy’s has finally retired after almost a century of service, so this winter I’ll have to rely on the farmers’ markets for my Meyer fix.

Meyer Lemon-Ginger Cupcakes with Lemon-Cream Cheese Frosting

Makes a dozen cupcakes

I use what I call vegan half-and-half in these cupcakes: half light coconut milk, half unsweetened almond milk. If you want to use dairy half-and-half, go ahead. If the spice is too tame for you, add more ginger.

Cupcakes

Canola oil spray (if not using baking cups)

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 scant cup sugar

1 heaping teaspoon ground ginger

1 teaspoon baking powder

½ teaspoon sea salt

2 eggs, room temperature

⅓ cup canola oil

½ cup light coconut milk

½ cup unsweetened almond milk

Juice and grated peel of 1 medium Meyer lemon

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Frosting

8 ounces cream cheese, softened

1 stick (8 tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed Meyer lemon juice

Pinch sea salt

1½ cups confectioners’ sugar

2 teaspoons light coconut milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Prepare muffin pan by lining with baking cups or spraying with canola oil.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, ginger, baking powder and salt.

3. In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, canola oil, coconut milk, almond milk, lemon juice, grated lemon peel, and vanilla. Stir dry ingredients into wet. Spoon batter into muffin cups to ¾ full and bake 18-20 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Transfer cupcakes to rack to cool completely, about an hour.

4. For the frosting: In a medium mixing bowl, using a hand mixer, beat together cream cheese, butter, lemon juice and salt. Beat in ½ cup confectioners’ sugar and 1 teaspoon coconut milk until combined. Beat in second ½ cup of confectioners’ sugar and the second teaspoon of coconut milk until combined, followed by the last ½ cup of confectioners’ sugar. Taste it. Do you think it’s sweet enough? If you want to add more sugar, go ahead. You’ll probably need to add a bit more coconut milk as well. When all ingredients have been combined, add vanilla and beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes.

5. Make sure cupcakes have cooled completely before attempting to frost. Trust me on this. When cupcakes have cooled completely, frost and serve. The butter in the frosting will melt, so refrigerate if you’re not serving these right away; same with the leftovers. They’ll keep in the fridge for about 3 days and are quite delicious cold. And for breakfast.

Not a Foodie

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Thu, 02 Dec 2010 15:06:00 +0000

Webster’s Eleventh defines foodie as: a person having an avid interest in the latest food fads. I’m not a foodie. I’m way too picky and disinterested in most fads, whether you consume them or wear them.

When anyone calls me a foodie, I smile and accept what that person intends as a compliment. I don’t refer the person to the dictionary or launch into a diatribe of how wrong he or she is. I don’t tell the usually well-intended person that foodies eat all kinds of stuff I would never even consider, and that there is a whole world of cuisine that I probably will not ever attempt to cook (sweetbreads, haggis, tripe, insert your favorite cooked animal organ here). Many foodies wear as a badge of honor the wait times they’ve withstood to get into the newest restaurants. If someone tells me I have to wait longer than 15 minutes to eat, I will bail.

Though I rail against the foodie convention, I think I may have inadvertently hopped on the bandwagon with my love for breakfast cakes. What makes a breakfast cake different from a regular cake? Frosting is really the only difference I can come up with. (Full disclosure: I’ve eaten cake with frosting for breakfast.) Probably a little less sugar, too. When I know there’s cake, breakfast or otherwise, I wake up happier and more eager to start the day. I think most people wouldn’t be so quick to start arguments or even wars if they knew a breakfast cake was waiting for them in the kitchen.

Coconut–Dark Chocolate Breakfast Cake

Makes 9 servings

My justification for chocolate in a breakfast cake: Dark chocolate is less sweet so it’s okay. I like to chop chocolate for this rather than use chocolate chips because the shavings from the chocolate add a lot of flavor that you just don’t get with chocolate chips. But, if you want to use chocolate chips, have at it, brothers and sisters.

Canola oil spray

2 cups all-purpose flour

¾ cup sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt

2 eggs

¾ cup light coconut milk
⅓ cup canola oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

⅓ cup shredded unsweetened coconut plus 1½ tablespoons

2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped, or ½ cup bittersweet chocolate chips

1. Preheat oven to 350° F. Spray 8x8 baking pan with canola oil.
2. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder and salt. In a separate large bowl, whisk together eggs, coconut milk, canola oil and vanilla extract. Stir the dry ingredients into the wet until combined. Stir in ⅓ cup coconut and chocolate.

3. Pour the batter into the prepared pan. Sprinkle remaining 1½ tablespoons coconut over the batter and bake until a toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean, about 25-30 minutes.

4. Cool in pan and serve warm or at room temperature. Store, covered, in the pan for a couple of days.

Converted

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 15:04:00 +0000

There are dog people and cat people, beach people and mountain people, frosting people and anti-frosting people. While I remain a dog and beach person, I have recently converted from anti-frosting to frosting.

I find most frosting—commercial, homemade (except my mom’s), sent by aliens—way too sweet and plastic-tasting. I don’t do many baked things with frosting, and when I do I work very hard to make sure the frosting is edible. Max follows me on the frosting, and he normally won’t even taste it. He only recently began eating cake-like products, and his MO is to scrape off the frosting then dig in to the cake part.

For some reason the frosting below, which I adapted from a recipe I found in the April 2010 issue of Bon Appétit, converted both Max and me so suddenly and so forcefully, we actually licked the frosting bowl clean. Even as a kid I never did that. Max and I were both so taken with this frosting, he convinced me to make a cake a few days later with the exact same frosting. Same effect. It was like crack! Or, rather, how I imagine those who are partial to crack would feel after having consumed crack.

Despite what the food pundits may postulate, the cupcake is alive and kicking. There’s no need to go to a bakery and spend $4 on a cupcake when you can make something even better in your own kitchen. And, if you’re compelled to consume just the frosting, no shande*, go right ahead.

*Shande is Yiddish for shame.

Banana Cupcakes with Peanut Butter–Chocolate Frosting

Makes 12 cupcakes

Adapted from Bon Appétit, April 2010

Use really good chocolate and a peanut butter that you love. I used Ghirardelli bittersweet chocolate (60% cacao, my favorite) and Whole Foods’ 365 brand Organic Creamy Peanut Butter. Be sure not to use the all-natural peanut butter that separates and requires stirring. It doesn’t work, and if you are a sensitive baker you may end up crying.

Cupcakes

Canola oil spray (if you’re not using baking cups)

2 cups all-purpose flour

1½ teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon sea salt

3 extremely ripe, medium bananas, peeled and mashed

¾ cup sugar

2 eggs, room temperature

⅓ cup canola oil

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Frosting

1¼ cups confectioners’ sugar

1 stick unsalted butter (8 tablespoons), softened

2 ounces bittersweet chocolate, melted and cooled

½ cup creamy peanut butter

2 tablespoons half-and-half

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Pinch salt

Chopped roasted and salted peanuts for topping (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Line baking pan with muffin cups or spray lightly with canola oil.

2. In a large mixing bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder and sea salt. In another large mixing bowl, whisk together bananas, sugar, eggs, canola oil and vanilla. Stir dry ingredients into wet until well combined.

3. Spoon batter into muffin cups to ¾ full and bake 18-20 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Transfer cupcakes to rack to cool completely, about an hour.

4. For the frosting: Sift sugar into a large mixing bowl. Add remaining ingredients. Using an electric mixer, beat until fluffy, about 2 minutes.

5. When cupcakes are completely cool, frost them. If you want to add chopped peanuts, now’s the time. Serve and refrigerate the leftovers for up to 3 days. Get your entire face into the frosting bowl and get rid of leftovers with gusto and absolutely no guilt. Take photos of your frosting-laden face and distribute to friends and family.

The Other Man

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 13:44:00 +0000

Mark Bittman, who writes the Minimalist column in the Dining section of the New York Times, is the one man I’d leave my husband for. He’s a smart, funny, tall, handsome Jewish guy who cooks. And, since he cooks, I’m willing to bet he knows his way around a dishwasher.

My crush developed after I began reading his column, long before the Times added accompanying videos and I knew what he looked like or heard his mellifluous voice. My feelings developed slowly. I wasn’t interested in him because of something as shallow as physical beauty. Every man I’ve ever been attracted to because of the way he looked has turned out to be a complete dick. There are no exceptions to this phenomenon, and this goes back as far as the fifth grade. That MB is always ready to crack wise and makes cooking accessible, fun and easy just makes him more scrumptious.

For as long as I can remember, the thought of making candy petrified me. There was a Minimalist column a few years ago on peanut brittle. I read the recipe, watched the video on the Times site, and I made peanut brittle. Easy and delicious.

I am not so blinded by MB’s culinary charm, though, that I can discard my picky eating habits. For me, his recipes fall into three categories: 1. Perfect as is; 2. Needs some adjusting, but then perfect; and 3. Yuck. Will not attempt. Recipes in the third category are rare, and though I may not attempt them, sometimes they inspire me despite their grossness.

Last year MB did a Minimalist column and video the subject of which was a vegan Mexican Chocolate Pudding made with tofu. Now, I’m all about the vegan love, but I. hate. tofu. While I was watching him concoct this pudding and debating whether I really had to throw up or only felt like it, I got the idea for a Mexican chocolate chip cookie. I wrote the recipe and later that morning baked my first batch of New Mexican Chocolate Chip Cookies.

I’m happy to share with you today the product that was born of something that initially made me want to hurl. I don’t hold that tofu pudding against Mark Bittman. There should be ample room for differing tastes and opinions in any relationship. Even when those relationships are imaginary.

New Mexican Chocolate Chip Cookies

Vegan

Makes 3 dozen cookies

Please use real maple syrup when you make these. No corn syrup or artificial colors or flavors are needed. These are also really good for ice cream sandwiches if you are so inclined. Use soy or coconut milk ice cream to keep the vegan theme going. If you want more heat, use more chile powder. I used chopped, toasted almonds in the first batch I made, and the general consensus is that the batch with almonds is superior to the batch without. I made them optional here, so listen to your heart. That’s what I always do.

1¼ cups all-purpose flour

½ cup almond meal or finely ground almonds

½ cup good-quality unsweetened cocoa powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ teaspoon ground New Mexico chile powder (or another mild ground chile)

½ teaspoon salt

¾ cup (1½ sticks) Earth Balance or other vegan margarine, melted and cooled

2 tablespoons pure maple syrup

½ cup sugar

½ cup brown sugar, packed

¼ cup unsweetened applesauce

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

¾ cup vegan chocolate chips (I like Whole Foods’ 365 brand)

½ cup toasted almonds, coarsely chopped (optional, but extremely delicious)

1. Preheat oven to 375° F. Line baking sheet with parchment. If you don’t want to use parchment, no worries, just don’t grease the baking sheet.

2. In medium bowl, whisk together flour, almond meal, cocoa powder, baking soda, cinnamon, salt and chile powder. In large bowl, whisk together Earth Balance, maple syrup, sugars, applesauce and vanilla. Stir flour mixture into butter-sugar mixture until combined. Stir in chocolate chips. Stir in almonds, if using.

3. Drop rounded teaspoons of dough onto baking sheet. Bake 8-10 minutes. Let cool on baking sheet for 5 minutes then transfer to cooling rack. When completely cooled, store in an airtight container for up to 3 days.

My Nose

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Sun, 21 Nov 2010 12:43:00 +0000

Two pregnancy phenomena have stayed with me, even though I gave birth almost 19 years ago: curly hair and a heightened sense of smell. I keep waiting for them both to subside, but so far no luck.

While I was pregnant with Max, I could smell the garlic salami at the Grand Street Market in Little Italy from the entrance to my office on Broadway and Prince in New York. If the wind shifted in just the right direction, I could also smell the remnants at the Fulton Fish Market as I headed down Broadway toward Canal. Because of this, I had an extremely rough first trimester, during which all I could keep down were unfrosted blueberry Pop-Tarts and Ben & Jerry’s Maine Blueberry Ice Cream.

Sense of smell can also trigger a torrent of memories. Walking by the Christmas wreaths at Trader Joe’s the other day, the scent of evergreen was so overpowering, it brought me back to when I was nine years old and picking out a Christmas tree. As soon as I passed the wreaths, a short man near the apples assaulted me with his cologne, reminding me of my former morning commute on the number 2 train. It seems like everything I take into my nostrils transports me back home, to New York.

Rain smells the same to me regardless of where I am. When it starts to rain in November in Los Angeles, I am reassured that Mother Nature hasn’t abandoned me. I know she’s gearing up to transform the brown mountains surrounding me into a vibrant green for a few weeks in February. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this.

The aroma of banana bread baking is one of the few things that will draw the men in my house away from whatever they’re intensely involved with to wander into the kitchen and find out, “When’s the banana bread gonna be done?” I always know that whatever’s going on, banana bread will always bind me to my husband and son.

Though I miss the wondrous olfactory gift basket that is New York, when the wind is just right, it brings me the salt of the Pacific Ocean from 30 or so miles away. I like to think that’s Mother Nature’s way of letting me know she’s always close by, no matter where I live.

Banana Bread

Vegan

Makes one loaf

This makes a great breakfast after a night of overindulgence, whether your poison is Danny McBride films, Hawaiian pizza or Southern Comfort. It’s easy to put together, and you don’t have to run the potentially head-splitting electric mixer. Pecan meal adds a lightness to baked goods that is beyond compare. If you can’t find pecan meal, don’t fret. You can either grind pecans finely in a food processor or substitute almond meal, which is just as delicious. If you do use almond meal, you may want to sub toasted almonds for pecans.

Canola oil spray

1½ cups all-purpose flour

½ cup pecan meal (or finely ground pecans)

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon sea salt

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

½ teaspoon ground ginger

¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg

3 very ripe, medium bananas, mashed to resemble pudding

⅔ cup brown sugar, packed

⅓ cup canola oil

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ cup toasted pecans, coarsely chopped

1 teaspoon granulated sugar for sanding

1. Preheat oven to 350° F. Spray 9x5 loaf pan with canola oil. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, pecan meal, baking powder, baking soda, sea salt, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg.

2. In a large bowl, whisk together the bananas, brown sugar, canola oil and vanilla. Gently stir the dry ingredients into the wet until combined. Stir in pecans.

3. Spoon batter into loaf pan. Sprinkle the teaspoon of sugar on top of batter. Bake 40-45 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in loaf pan on wire rack for 15 minutes before turning it out to cool further. Slice and serve while warm or cooled to room temperature. Transfer remaining loaf to an airtight container, where it will remain tasty for up to 3 days.

Julia

noreply@blogger.com (Lori White) — Fri, 19 Nov 2010 12:54:00 +0000

Julia Child has always been an inspiration to me. I’ve read many of her books, and The Way to Cook is one of my favorite cookbooks. Julia was also completely hilarious. Someone who is funny and can cook will always have my admiration.

One morning I was too goofy to write, so I did what I sometimes do when I can’t think: watch TV. The day before I had written for a full eight hours and needed some not-writing time. I’m not one of those writers who will sit at my desk when I don’t have an idea. The great Flannery O’Connor sat at her desk every day for at least two hours. Sometimes she wrote, sometimes she didn’t. I can’t do this. I will get up in the middle of the night if I awake with an idea or a first line comes to me, but I can’t sit at my computer waiting for the muse. She is often at Starbucks drinking a soy chai latte and eating an apple fritter. And, of course, she never gains weight.

So I plopped onto the couch and looked at my viewing choices. There were no crime shows on, which bummed me out. Nothing like solving a murder to wake up the brain. Then I saw that public television was airing episodes of The French Chef with Julia. I hesitated. The reason is, I tried to watch this series on DVD about four years ago and was unable to stop laughing. See, Max and I had just watched Saturday Night Live: The Best of Dan Aykroyd and his Julia Child was stuck firmly in my mind. I returned all three disks of The French Chef to Netflix unwatched.

I decided to give The French Chef another go. Julia beat the eggs for her omelet with chopsticks and said not to let the butter get too brown or “it has a cheap taste.” I cannot believe how much I learned in these few episodes! Not just stuff about cooking, either. Julia’s show is such a refreshing change from the today’s slick Food Network fare (Ina Garten excluded). Julia is unapologetically herself and when she instructed the audience “if you’re alone in the kitchen” to use their hands to shape an omelet, I laughed out loud. Not only because it was funny, but because who hasn’t done that? You can tell that these shows are sans script and all Julia. She tells it like it is. Cooking is messy, things don’t always go as planned and a lot of times you have to punt. Kinda like life.

This is my favorite quote of all time: “No one is born a great cook. One learns by doing. This is my invariable advice to people: Learn to cook—try new recipes, learn from your mistakes, be fearless, and above all have fun!” Julia said it, Julia meant it and Julia lived it.

This quote hangs on my refrigerator, and I try to live by these words every day. I also use my hands to fix stuff all the time. But that’s just between us.

Double Chocolate Muffins

Makes a dozen muffins

I think Julia would dig these muffins because I used butter and room-temperature eggs, and they are just a third of a cup of sugar and a dollop of frosting away from being a cupcake. They’re also a surefire way to get a sleepy teenager to wander into the kitchen before 10 on a Saturday morning and ask with interest, “What are you making?” I used unsweetened chocolate almond milk, but unsweetened regular or vanilla almond milk works just as well. If you want to use real milk, that’s okay, too. No judgment, man. If you want to add nuts, I’d go with toasted almonds or hazelnuts.

Canola oil spray (if you’re not using baking cups)

1¾ cups all-purpose flour

½ cup good-quality unsweetened cocoa powder

⅓ cup sugar

⅓ cup brown sugar

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon instant espresso

½ teaspoon salt

1¼ sticks (10 tablespoons) unsalted butter, melted and cooled

½ cup unsweetened chocolate almond milk

2 eggs, room temperature

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ teaspoon almond extract

¾ cup semisweet chocolate chips

1. Preheat oven to 350°. Prepare muffin pan by lining with baking cups or spraying with canola oil.

2. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, cocoa powder, sugars, baking powder, baking soda, espresso and salt.

3. In a large bowl, whisk together butter, almond milk, eggs and vanilla and almond extracts. Stir dry ingredients into wet until combined. Stir in chocolate chips.

4. Spoon batter into muffin cups until ¾ full. Bake 18 minutes or until toothpick inserted in center comes out clean. Transfer muffins to rack to cool completely. And if you drop one on the floor, just dust it off and act like nothing happened. No one will know!