It was a rainy May Saturday morning at the indoor farmer’s market within the State of Maine Cheese shop. After considering little jugs of honey, and sampling an especially terrific batch of Prix de Diane from Lakin’s Gorges Cheese, I bought a dozen brown eggs, a marigold plant, and a $2 bag of fiddlehead ferns. In spring in Maine, we have mud, and we have fiddleheads. Cold nights and windy days. Dandelions and rain. Contrasts and warming beauty. Fiddleheads are foraged food, forest food, spring food. You love them or hate them. Anticipate the sweet fleeting weeks of their availability, or cringe at the childhood memory of being force fed ferns by an overzealous grandma.

Fiddleheads look like snails, dark green fibonacci fronds. When I unfurl one it looks like a primal rainforest plant. As I polled the food cognescenti hanging around I got recipe advice (“bake them with ricotta!”) and mixed feelings. “I go back and forth on them” was one man’s ambivalent reply. Influenced mostly by his dad’s general hysteria regarding anything he thought of as “hippie food,” Malcolm’s lingering impression was that they were gross, but upon tasting conceded that they were fine. Many go so far as to sing their praises. Is there any real reason to eat them, or are they just another faddish food fetish object found at the farmer’s market?

It’s one of those rare instances when everyone is right. They are astringent, bitter, strange. They taste like spring and earth. Old timers simply boil them and boil them and boil them again, in a typically Protestant fashion, washing away the sins of the earth. A new generation of chefs and cooks add bacon and Parmesan for an umami taste component, to balance their natural grassiness. I thought it best, as usual, to come to rest somewhere in the middle. Eating fiddleheads is a rite of spring, a ritual in which we make meaning through our deliberate, annual actions. They were pleasant in this easy preparation; like asparagus, but woodsier. Oh, and dirty, so definitely wash them.

How to Cook and Eat Fiddlehead Ferns
Makes about two cups

Ingredients:

• 2 cups fresh fiddleheads
• 2 tablespoons salted butter
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
• Squeeze of lemon

In a saucepan over high heat, bring water to a boil. Add fiddleheads, and cook until water comes back up to a boil. Drain and rinse.

In a saute pan over medium-high heat, melt butter. Add garlic, par boiled fiddleheads, salt, and pepper. Saute 5 minutes. Remove from heat, and finish with a squirt of lemon.

Once upon a time in Mexico I got married in front of a fountain and a defrocked priest and friends and family, under a cloudless blue sky in the open courtyard of a colonial mansion. There was no aisle, no mass, no pews, no flower girl. No programs, no rice, no chuppah. There were, however, mariachis. And birds of paradise. And two cakes. And fake dancing.

Later, at the Mambo Cafe, there was real dancing in the crowded, sweaty club. And bottle service. And late-night hilarity and hijinks. But back to the cakes.

They weren’t very good. Kind of wet. But the flowers and the food and the art of it was all very amazing. There was champagne and a note from my groom before our vows and so much happiness. I wish I could do it again right now. Being the bride among a crazy group of gringo wedding guests at a fresh water swimming hole and the greenest Mayan ruins site in the middle of the Yucatan peninsula, talking too late by the pool and swinging in hammocks in cool rooms with old friends, drinking tequila, I had the time of my life.

Mexican Chocolate Cake
Adapted from a recipe on Epicurious

Ingredients:

• 2 sticks unsalted butter
• 1/2 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
• 3/4 cup coffee
• 1/4 teaspoon almond extract
• 2 large eggs
• 2 cups granulated sugar
• 1/2 cup Greek yogurt
• 2 tablespoons vanilla extract
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 1/2 teaspoon chipotle chile powder
• 1/4 teaspoon salt

Method:

Preheat oven to 350. Prepare bundt pan with baking spray and flour.

In a large pot over low heat, melt butter. Whisk in cocoa powder, coffee and almond extract. Remove pot from the heat. Add eggs, sugar, Greek yogurt, and vanilla. In a large mixing bowl whisk together flour, baking soda, cinnamon, chipotle, and salt. Sift dry ingredients into the batter and stir until just combined. Batter may be lumpy. Pour into prepared bundt pan and bake, 45-55 minutes, until a cake tester comes out with crumbs. Cool cake in the pan, 20 minutes. Turn over onto a large plate and top with syrup, if you like. Whipped coffee cream would be good, too.

Today’s sandwich is the “Eric MacLaren” from Clan MacLaren in Rockland. It combines salami, provolone, green pepper, tomato, onion, black olives, pickles, and olive oil on a sub roll.

Location: 395 Main Street, Rockland
Price:$8.25
Notes: Before we get going, the briefest confession: In the four days since I have discovered Clan MacLaren (and by “discovered,” I mean, “finally tried after walking on by for years”), I have returned there for a sandwich exactly three times. In fact, I am so smitten with the sandwiches at Clan MacLaren, that I originally envisioned writing a much more thorough post. The title of this hypothetical post placed it not in the “Today’s Sandwich” category, but was to be the start of a new series, very tentatively titled “Watch Me Eat a Restaurant’s Entire Menu in One Sitting.” After giving it some careful consideration, though, I realized that I just don’t have that kind of stamina, and that I would have to pick just one sandwich to talk about right away.

That sandwich is the “Eric MacLaren,” an eight dollar beauty that combines salami, smoky provolone cheese, sliced green pepper, tomato, onion, black olives, pickles, and olive oil on a freshly baked sub roll from Borealis Breads. You can almost think of it as an upgrade of the venerable Maine “Italian” sandwich, that mysteriously addictive wonder of the processed food world which combines a thin layer of boiled ham, American cheese, and fresh vegetables on a super squishy, soft bun. The cheese on a Maine “Italian” liquefies as soon as it gets hit with the moisture from the oil, fresh vegetables and sliced sour pickles on top, resulting in a powerful combination of flavors and textures that I have waxed rhapsodic about on these very pages for probably much too long.

Taking a cue from this classic Maine junk food, the “Eric MacLaren” dares to ask: What would happen if you replaced all of the elements of a traditional Maine Italian sandwich with actual, honest-to-goodness, quality real ingredients? Not just real ingredients, but some of the best ingredients available at this price point? Here, the flavorless bulk boiled ham that serves as a mere gesture in a traditional Italian is replaced with sliced Boar’s Head salami and a layer of provolone cheese. The vegetables are all sliced fresh, and piled high not on a gigantic glorified hot dog bun, but on a satisfyingly chewy sub roll with a golden brown blistered exterior from Borealis Breads in Waldoboro. Even the oil, which in lesser versions of a Maine-style Italian sandwich is nothing more than a flavorless slick that acts more as a lubricant than a flavoring agent, is here replaced by a hot pepper infused olive oil from Fiore Artisan Olive Oils & Vinegars, located right down the street. It’s as though every ingredient in the venerable Maine classic has received a massive upgrade, every ingredient treated with a level of care and concern unusual in a neighborhood sandwich shop.

The resulting sandwich is exquisite. I got mine finished with diced jalapenos, which lends extra spice to the salami and offsets the pleasant funk of the provolone. The spicy olive oil finishing move is not to be missed, either, staining the chewy freshly-baked bread (and the paper it’s wrapped in, and your fingers) a satisfying orange. At over eight bucks, it may not be the cheapest sandwich in town, but that’s hardly the point. Throw in the included bag of chips and pickle spear, and you’ve got a well-rounded lunch that should be included in every serious sandwich eater’s noontime rotation.

Clan MacLaren: 395 Main Street, Rockland, Maine 04841; (207) 593-7778; www.ClanMacLaren.net

What do you want to make for dinner on such a night as this? Our family left the house all together this morning before nine, and didn’t regroup until after five. We were standing around the kitchen, friends popping in, the baby eating eggs in her highchair, while I put together this easy weeknight meal. I wanted something simple, light and fresh that would come together quickly and taste amazing. I seem to always have scallions and eggs in the fridge, flour in the pantry and curry and cayenne in my spice cupboard. I picked up some shrimp and sweet corn from the market and boom – an awesome supper was born. This tastes like the coming summer, warm, spicy, sweet, and salty from the briny sea.

Curried Corn Cakes with Shrimp
Adapted from a recipe in How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman
Serves 2-3

Ingredients:

• 1 cup fresh corn kernels stripped from the cob (2 ears)
• 1/4 cup finely chopped scallions
• 1/8 cup all-purpose flour
• 1 egg, separated
• 1 heaping teaspoon curry powder
• 1/2 teaspoon cayenne
• Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 3 tablespoons butter
• 20 shrimp, peeled and deveined
• Greek yogurt, for topping
• Chives, for garnish

Method:

In a medium-sized mixing bowl combine corn, scallions, flour, egg yolk, curry, cayenne, and salt, to taste. Beat egg white until stiff, in a mixer or with a whisk. Gently fold in egg white into corn mixture with a rubber spatula. In a large skillet over medium heat, melt 2 tablespoons butter. When the foam subsides, ladle in batter, 3 or 4 pancakes at a time. Cook until browned on one side, 3-5 minutes, then turn with a spatula, and brown the other side. Remove to a paper towel-lined plate and keep warm in the oven.

Melt remaining tablespoon of butter in the skillet. Season shrimp with salt and pepper and saute in a hot pan until pink, 2-3 minutes.

To serve: Spoon a dollop of Greek yogurt onto each corn cake and top with 2 shrimp and a sprinkle of chopped chives.

To get to work in New York you commute underground, emerge someplace sooty and windswept and walk briskly to your place of employment, stopping at a deli for a blue cup of coffee and a bagel, griddle-toasted, oozing butter. At the close of business you slip through the stile with one smooth Metrocard motion and press against strangers jostled at varying speeds, starts and stops, as you count the minutes, eyes buried in a book, headphones barely blocking out the din of a thousand million audible hopes and concerns. Then, you are home.

Home is a neighborhood as much as it is a small apartment you share with a very nice kid from Pennsylvania who endeavors to be an opera singer, or a barista. The neighborhood is peopled by ordinary characters who endure mythically in the tales you tell yourself later about the once upon a time you spent in Washington Heights or Cobble Hill.

Cobble Hill is where we lay this scene. On nights like this, warm, when summer finally feels inevitable and girls first dare their floral dresses, we would walk after work to a cafe on Court Street, seated at a sidewalk table, everyone watching everyone, monologue, dialogue, spent silence, some cheap wine in a carafe, and a lazy steak frites following oysters, that were neither great nor terrible.

It felt glamorous, like a Hemingway novel set in Paris. We were young and youthful and it didn’t matter if we were happy because we were interesting. After dinner we would walk blocks, my feet sticking to the backless plastic heels I thought were so grown up, near the water or to the bar or bookstore, before we went home to watch TV like everybody else.

Steak Frites with Roquefort Butter
Serves 2

Ingredients:

For the Roquefort butter:

• 2 tablespoons butter, softened
• 1 tablespoon crumbled Roquefort cheese

For the Frites:

• 2 large Idaho potatoes
• 2 cups peanut oil
• Kosher salt

For the steak:

• 1 large bone-in rib eye steak
• Splash of olive oil
• Salt and pepper, to taste

Method:

For the Roquefort butter:

Combine ingredients in a small bowl. Mash with a fork to mix well. Chill in refrigerator until ready to use.

For the Frites:

Peel potatoes. Slice into sticks a little less than 1/2 inch thick. Immediately soak in an ice water bath, at least 30 minutes.

In a medium-sized pot, heat peanut oil to 280 degrees F. Drain and rinse potatoes to remove excess starch. Working in batches, pat potatoes dry and blanch them, 6-8 minutes. When they are semi-transluscent, use a slotted spoon to remove them to a baking sheet. Let potatoes rest at least 15 minutes.

Heat oil to 375 degrees F. Fry blanched potatoes in very hot oil, 2-3 minutes, until golden brown. Remove them to a large bowl lined with a clean, dry towel or paper towels. Toss with salt and serve immediately. Dipping sauces optional, but encouraged.

For the steak:

Follow our foolproof method for perfect medium-rare steak: Bring steak to room temperature, and season generously with salt. Preheat oven to 550 degrees. In a cast iron skillet, heat a splash of oil until it starts to shimmer, but just before it starts to smoke. Add steak to pan and cook for 2 minutes. Flip steak , and immediately transfer pan to hot oven. Cook two minutes more, then transfer steak to plate. Cover with foil and allow to rest for ten minutes before sprinkling with freshly ground pepper and serving with a big dollop of Roquefort butter.

We’ve all been guilty of it, at one time or another. A piece of bad news comes in: A stubbed toe causes your big toenail to fall off, say, or maybe the house you bought next to the electric substation has given you brain termites. No matter the case, I think we can all agree that there’s a lot to be said for drowning your sorrows at the business end of a gigantic frosted cake, eaten sitting alone at the kitchen counter, preferably in the dark, your silent salty tears mixing with the sweet frosting and oozing into the delicate crumb.

These aren’t our most sophisticated cake recipes. Instead, these are recipes to consider when your primary concern is banging as much sugar, fat, and buttercream into the back of your skull as quickly and efficiently as you possibly can. They’re the perfect recipes to bake when tragedy strikes, even if that tragedy only happens to be a mid-week slump, when the house is a mess, the new teeth trying to burst violently through the baby’s gumline are making her hysterical, and you’re still looking down the barrel of the two days that stand between you and the weekend. Enjoy.

1. Black Magic Chocolate Cake
The secret ingredient in this foolproof chocolate cake? Strong black coffee. It imparts a mysterious richness to the cake that is unlike any boxed mix you’ve ever tasted. Frost it with mint, as we did here, or frost it with anything you’d like. Especially a second cake.

2. Cuppa Cuppa Cuppa Cake
“Close your eyes and lean back in your seat, imagining the most decadent, sophisticated dessert you’ve ever had. Was there an artful interplay of salty and sweet? A clever use of unexpected fruit? Did the richness of the chocolate evoke the rarefied air of a Swiss slope? Come back. Now travel to another place entirely. There’s Spanish moss hanging from languid trees and a swimming hole where no-necked children go kissing. You are deep in the south of the south. The dirty, swampy, stewing in their own juices states below the Mason-Dixon line, where the plot is pure Faulkner and sloe gin women bring you a slice of cake and a perspiring glass of iced tea.”

3. Chocolate Chip Banana Cake
Jillian pays homage to her late grandmother, with this cake that’s not unlike the discounted frozen banana kit you might buy at Ocean State Job Lot.

4. Chocolate Moxie Whoopie Pies with Allen’s Coffee Brandy Buttercream
“In an effort to combine my love of ‘drinking cocktails’ with my love of ‘eating cake,’ I tried to create one of the most Maine-centric desserts I could imagine. The Chocolate Moxie Whoopie Pie with Allen’s Coffee Brandy Buttercream was born. The addition of Moxie soda adds the mysterious herbaceousness of the fizzy drink to the chocolate cakes, while lending tremendous lift, lightness, and rise to the batter.” The Allen’s Coffee Brandy buttercream just gets you drunk and makes you fall into the quarry.

5. Gooey Butter Cake
“Okay, so, this cake is crazy sweet. And rich. So. Much. Butter. Simple and decadent, with three lovely, distinct layers of texture: crackling, gooey, and rich.”

6. Nutella Bundt Cake
Jillian, on her high school trip to France: “I stayed with a very nice girl who smoked Gauloise cigarettes and drank wine with her parents, and whose handsome boyfriend got to spend the night in her room. The Marchenoirs gave me a bowl of hot chocolate and Nutella spread on crusty bread for breakfast. It’s a wonder I ever came home.”

7. Red Velvet Cake
“Pristine on the outside, with a harlot-y interior, its taste total comfort and indulgence.”

8. Snickerdoodle Cake with Brown Sugar Buttercream
“Why is cinnamon so delicious and comforting? It really makes everything better. I suppose I’m supposed to say that of butter. Or is it bacon? This cake definitely has a lot of the former. Almost four sticks, which is pretty ridiculous. Don’t think, just bake. Go buy a big pack of butter, I’ll wait here.”

Haven’t had enough? Be sure to visit the From Away Recipe Index for even more cake recipes!

When we have a houseful of company for the weekend, I love to get up early and bake something yummy for breakfast. This is the perfect next treat after presenting an impressive Beef Wellington the night before, as there were two sheets of puff pastry in the box. Seeing old friends after many months or years apart is strange, strangely familiar, surreal, outside of your day-to-day life but comfortable and comforting.

Spending a night eating good things and drinking sparkling wine and old scotch is the best way to reconnect with where you come from and a version of yourself that (you think) no longer exists. Waking up the next morning, I always feel more myself, grounded, and content. Brew a pot of strong coffee with this decadent danish, and then head out for a hike in the woods, a walk on the beach, go to the museum, or get cozy on the couch watching an action movie marathon.

Cinnamon-Ricotta Danish
Adapted from a recipe on A Cozy Kitchen

Ingredients:

For the filling:

• 4 tablespoons ricotta
• 4 tablespoons cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon nutmeg
• Scant 1/4 cup granulated sugar
• 1/8 teaspoon Kosher salt
• 3 teaspoons orange zest
• 1 sheet puff pastry
• Flour, for work surface
• 1 egg, beaten

For the glaze:

• 1 1/2 cups powdered sugar
• 2 tablespoons room temperature brewed coffee
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Method:

For the danish:

Preheat oven to 400. Prepare a cookie sheet with baking spray.

In a medium-sized mixing bowl use a form to combine ricotta, cinnamon, nutmeg, sugar, salt, and orange zest.

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out puff pastry sheet into an 8 x 11 inch rectangle. Use a paring knife to cut off top corners of pastry rectangle. Spread filling in the center of the pastry. Cut strips on the diagonal from the edge of the pastry to the filling, starting at the bottom corners. Make 8 cuts.

Fold over the top and bottom of the rectangle of pastry, then braid the strips, folding over the filling from the top. Brush with beaten egg.

Place braided pastry on the cookie sheet and bake, 20 minutes, until golden brown. Meanwhile make the glaze.

For the glaze:

In a medium-sized mixing bowl use a fork to combine powdered sugar, cool coffee, and vanilla. Drizzle over just out of the oven danish and serve warm.

If you measure a recipe only in terms of how great the reward is for how little effort, that would make this one of the best taco recipes on our site. It’s proof that you don’t need a billion ingredients or a whole day’s worth of cooking time in order to make some authentic, taqueria-style tacos at home on short notice and with ingredients you probably already have in your pantry.

Because each of the few ingredients is given such a chance to shine, take a few extra moments for the little finishing details; homemade corn tortillas are a must, and if you can find tomatillos, a quick homemade salsa verde goes a long way to perk up the smoky flavors of the marinated meat.

This recipe can be adapted to use any cooking method you like; it works beautifully outside on the grill, but can just as easily be blasted under the broiler for a few minutes. Sliced against the grain, the flank steak comes out tender, and with tons of smoky chipotle flavor.

Chipotle Flank Steak Tacos with Salsa Verde
Makes 6-8 tacos

Ingredients:

• 1 flank steak, 1 to 1-1/2 pounds, cut in half into two large steaks
• 4 cloves garlic, roughly chopped
• 1 medium onion, roughly chopped
• 1 (7 oz) can chipotles in adobo sauce
• Juice from two limes
• 6-8 corn tortillas
• Salsa verde, diced onion, chopped cilantro, sliced avocado, and sliced fresh jalapeno, for topping

Method:

Arrange flank steak in a single layer in a large, shallow bowl.

In the bowl of a food processor, combine garlic, onion, chipotles (with sauce), and lime juice. Pulse until smooth.

Cover flank steaks with marinade, turning steaks to coat on all sides. Cover with plastic wrap, and allow to marinate at room temperature for an hour.

Scrape off excess marinade, and cook over a grill or under a broiler until meat reaches an internal temperature of 130 degrees. Let rest for at least five minutes before slicing thinly across the grain. Fold into warm corn tortillas, and top with onions, jalapenos, cilantro, and salsa verde.

A mint julep is made with just four ingredients: Water, sugar, mint, and bourbon. Because of the way the mint leaves are bruised or muddled, releasing their oils into the mixture, you can think of a mint julep almost as a sort of mojito, with a little less Cuban ayeayeaye and a heckuva lot more slow Southern drawl. Drink enough of them, and you’ll probably wake up on someone’s porch with a white handlebar mustache, wearing a seersucker suit, and wondering what happened to the last fifty years of your life. Or at least, you’ll probably get to miss going to the horse race. Win/win.

Make a simple syrup by combining equal parts water and sugar in a saucepan over medium heat. Allow to cool completely, then serve your mint julep in a silver cup (or a regular ol’ rocks glass) over shaved ice with plenty of mint. Allow the outside of the glass to frost over, and sip with pinky extended, eyes closed in the warm Spring sunshine.

Mint Julep
Makes one cocktail

Ingredients:

• 2 healthy sprigs fresh mint
• 3/4 ounces simple syrup
• 2-1/2 ounces Kentucky bourbon
• Shaved ice

Method:

Gently bruise mint with a pestle or the back of a spoon. Add to glass, along with simple syrup and bourbon. Strain into second glass, filled with crushed or shaved ice. Stir well, and garnish with more fresh mint.

This recipe is a classic. It is savory and ridiculous and rich. You need time, but no special skill or equipment to achieve an impressive, delicious dinner, for a holiday or special occasion, or an unremarkable Thursday in May. To gild the lily, we served ours with creamed spinach and a dry vodka martini.

The butcher cut a beautiful piece of fillet. I chopped wild mushrooms fragrant of the middle woods. I used my favorite long rolling pin to form the puff pastry into the right shape (Mississippi-ish) and size. I added a good glug of wine to the cooking-down earthy vegetables, with marjoram instead of the more traditional thyme. I brushed lovingly with egg.

It came out of the oven and golden brown. And when we sliced, the medium-rare meat was pink in the center. There are textures and layers and such a sweet reward for your effort. I cannot recommend this one highly enough. Please enjoy!

Beef Wellington
Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 2 lb beef tenderloin fillet
• Vegetable oil
• Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
• 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 1 large shallot, minced
• 12 oz mixed mushrooms (shitakes and creminis), very finely diced
• 2 garlic cloves, minced
• 4 sprigs marjoram, leaves removed from stems
• 1/4 cup vermouth or dry white wine
• 2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
• 6-8 pieces of prosciutto
• 1 sheet puff pastry
• Flour, for dusting work surface
• 2 egg yolks, beaten

Method:

To prepare the beef:

In a large skillet over medium-high heat, get vegetable oil very hot. Season the beef with salt and pepper. Sear meat on all four sides until deep brown. Remove to a plate and allow it to rest, then rub with Dijon mustard.

For the mushroom duxelles:

In the same skillet used to sear the beef, melt butter over medium-low. Saute shallots and mushrooms, garlic and marjoram. Add the vermouth and cook down, until almost a paste. Season with salt and pepper.

For the Wellington:

Preheat oven to 400.

Lay 12 inches of plastic wrap on your work surface. Layer prosciutto in a shingled fashion in two columns, overlapping.

Spread mushroom duxelles evenly over prosciutto.

Center the beef fillet on the mushroom mixture. Fold the sides of plastic wrap up and secure tightly around fillet. Refrigerate while you prepare pastry.

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out one sheet of (thawed) puff pastry into a rectangle.

Paint the edges with beaten egg yolks. Unwrap the beef and center on puff pastry. Fold up sides and seal. Now, the other ends, making sure to remove any excess pastry, since more than two layers of pastry will not cook completely.

Place on a baking pan, seam side down; brush with egg yolks and score with the back of a knife, taking care not to go all the way through the pastry. Cook 30 minutes, or until a meat thermometer inserted into the center of the roast reads 125-130 degrees. Allow the Wellington to rest for 10 minutes before slicing into one inch thick slices.