love.life.eat
a relentless pursuit of the perfect home + dish
re-engineering a classic: coconut blueberry banana loaf
Posted on May 13, 2013
Believe me when I say that this loaf has seen more transformations than Madonna in the 90s. One morning in 2009, I searched for a simple banana bread recipe, and after baking said loaf, finding it just okay, I decided to tinker with it. Over the years, I’ve had tremendous triumphs: the nutella banana loaf, the banana chocolate chip nutella loaf, the pistachio coconut banana loaf, and on it goes. However, nothing awakens my cold, dead heart than a smattering of blueberries, a pile of bananas and sweet coconut.
In this go-around, I decided to begin the slow transformation from a loaf that is heavy with white flour and sugar to something richer, something more complex. I’ve made many flour substitutions, which have ended violently (read: me tossing the wreckage in the bin, me wailing in front of a hot oven, me wondering what was I thinking when I decided to incorporate quinoa flour? WHAT WAS I THINKING?!), so I’m going slow with this. So far, I’ve swapped out the oils, reduced the sugar (rationalizing that the coconuts and blueberries will help), and added in agave. I’m moving toward brown rice syrups, honey (in my heart I KNOW honey will make this loaf SING), and coconut, tapioca and almond flours. I’ll keep you posted on all my attempts (and inevitable failures), along the way.
For now, know that this is the sort of loaf that will wake you up at night. The sort of loaf that I’m carrying, right now, so I can pawn off to someone else. Simply put: this kid is DANGEROUS.
INGREDIENTS (makes two loaves)
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
3 large eggs, room temperature
3/4 cup cane sugar
1/2 cup agave
3/4 cup coconut oil, melted and cooled
2 tablespoons pure vanilla extract
1 cup ripe mashed banana (about 2 medium)
1/2 cup sweetened shredded coconut
1/2 cup fresh blueberries
1/2 cups almond milk
Nonstick coconut oil cooking spray
DIRECTIONS
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Coat two 9×5 inch loaf pans with cooking spray; set aside. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking soda, and salt; set aside.
In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the eggs, sugar, agave and coconut oil on medium-low speed until combined. Beat in the flour mixture. Add the vanilla, banana, coconut, almond milk, and beat just to combine. Fold in the blueberries.
Divide batter evenly between prepared pans; smooth with an offset spatula. Bake, rotating pans halfway through, until a cake tester inserted in the centers comes out clean, 50 to 55 minutes.
Transfer to a wire rack to cool for 10 minutes. Remove loaves from pans and let cool completely. Bread can be kept at room temperature, wrapped well in plastic, for up to 1 week, or frozen for up to 3 months. But honestly, are you going to do this? Shove a delicious loaf in the freezer and abandon it so cruelly? Hardly. You’re going to end up cutting small slices in the middle of the night, and eat this, standing up, in the kitchen, in the DARK.
sweet + spicy quinoa hash
Posted on May 5, 2013
Never settle for anything less than extraordinary. Every morning I say this to myself, and I believe it. You have this one great, sweeping life, so why should it be mediocre? Why should it be a thing through which you slouch rather than something to which you triumphantly leap? Even in my darkest days — and I’ve had my share, believe me — I try to ferret out beauty from even the most trivial things.
Today I witnessed someone settle. My friend Kate was trying on skirts and I was there to provide honest feedback and comic relief, and I watched as a woman stared at herself in a dress that clearly gave her discomfort. You could tell that she really wanted to make the dress work (she tried on various sizes, deliberated extensively with her friend and two sales associates), and stared at herself in the mirror as if willing the dress to be everything she wish it could.
It took everything in me to not interrupt. To tell her that there are other dresses, ones which will put her heart on pause, the kind that will make her jump up and down. But I didn’t, and I watched her skulk to the register and spend $200 on the ordinary.
Since I’ve returned from Europe, I’ve been having this craving for virtuosity. Call it a croissant rebellion, but I’m finding that I want quinoa, kale and piles of vegetables. However, eating healthy sometimes suffers a bad rap, and no matter how hard I soak quinoa it’ll never be a bacon cheeseburger and fries.
I MEAN. LET’S GET REAL HERE. LET US FROLIC IN THE WORLD THAT WE LIKE TO CALL REALITY.
I’m determined to find delicious recipes that will surprise me. Recipes that will not have me reaching for a bowl of cereal in an hour’s time. Enter the yummy sweet potato hash. When I found this recipe in Women’s Health, I ripped it out and was determined to make it, and I’m THRILLED to relay that the hash does not disappoint. From the extraordinary flavors to the fact that it was actually FILLING, my only regret was not making more of it. In future iterations, I definitely see me adding toasted pistachios or pine nuts, and perhaps a smattering of goat cheese.
My recommendation? MAKE THIS NOW. AS IN RIGHT NOW.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe adapted from Women’s Health, with modifications
For the quinoa*
1 1/2 cups vegetable stock
1 cup quinoa, rinsed under cold water for 1 minute
For the hash
2 tsp coconut oil
a pinch of red pepper flakes (1/8 tsp)
3/4 cup cubed sweet potato (this is about 1/2 of a large sweet potato)
1/2 cup chopped kale (I prefer baby kale leaves of Tuscan kale, not the curly kind)
1 clove minced garlic
1/2 cup of the cooked quinoa
1/8 tsp sea salt
*This will make four servings. I like to make quinoa in bulk, so I can add it to sweet + savory dishes.
DIRECTIONS
For the love of god, please rinse your quinoa. Your dish will benefit from sitting under a faucet for a minute. Once your quinoa is rinsed, add it to your stock and bring the mixture to a boil. Once it’s bubbling, reduce the heat to low and simmer, covered, for 15 minutes, or until all of the water is absorbed.
While the quinoa is cooking, melt your coconut oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add a pinch of red pepper flakes and the cubed sweet potato, then sauté for 5-7 minutes. Stir in the chopped kale, minced garlic and the sea salt, and sauté for 3 minutes, or until the leaves have wilted. Add the cooked quinoa and heat through for another minute.
dispatches from rome: you can never have enough carbs
Posted on April 10, 2013
Believe me when I say that I worship at the altar that is the CARBOHYDRATE. I light candles, mumble prayers, and hope for a day when my doctor tells me that I can eat carbs to my heart’s content. Lying on my couch, I am free to mainline paninis as I please and gorge on bottomless bowls of pesto. What dreams I’d have! What I revere most about Italian fare is its unapologetic simplicity. You combine the simplest, freshest ingredients, and tend to it as if each dish were your own personal harvest. Every meal is a bloodletting of sorts, where part of you melds into the food that you’re making. This connection is symbiotic, visceral, emotional, and I prefer it over the cold, austere complexity that is the French and Japanese cuisine. Don’t get me wrong, I love French + Japanese food, but I want my meals to feel like home, not mathematics, so I tend to cleave to dishes that are simple and comforting. Perhaps this is why I never went in for the fanfare of patisserie, rather I cloak myself in yeast and bake the warmest of loaves, the sweetest of cakes.
Call it serendipity when I met up with Arlene + Erica, two great, shining lights, and conversation quickly turned to Italian food. After a few hours I felt a kinship with them because we’d always fall rapturously in love with the cacio e pepes of the world and shirk away from the nine-course meals whose ingredients might very well include foam.
Rome was meant to be a quickie, a layover to the glory that is Florence, but I made a point of hoovering pasta at every single meal, and save for one horrific encounter with raw sausage — the smell of which still has me reeling — every dish was exquisite from presentation to taste. For lunch I stumbled upon di qua, located on Via delle Carrozze 85/B. Oddly, I can’t find a single listing for the restaurant online, but I assure you, it’s good. Tucked away from the busy Plaza de Espagna, you’ll not only fawn over the pasta and greens, you’ll also swoon over the rustic interiors. When someone serves me bread in a leather basket and the dishes are charming, I have to believe a lot of love goes into cultivating a sweet dining experience. The staff were so hospitable and took care with inquiring about my satisfaction that I didn’t want to leave. And the pasta? DIE.
Can we talk about Pierluigi, please? The very charming brother to New York’s Antica Pesa, I loved everything about this eatery. Perhaps I’m biased as my sweet friend Arlene is a frequent patron, but I honestly felt a bit like a celebrity. The staff are attentive, effusive and passionate about food. My homemade ravioli was stuffed with pumpkin and dressed in a light sauce and amaretti cookies. After the prosciutto pile-up, I honestly felt I couldn’t consume one more bite, but I gathered all my strength to make a clean sweep of every plate. And while I’m not fond of fish, I was impressed by the handsome display of fresh catch that is presented to patrons before their dishes are cooked. If you ever find yourself in Rome, I implore you to drop your bags and RUN TO PIERLUIGI.
I firmly believe in the power of the leisurely breakfast, the kind where you feast from a succession of thin, delicate plates and conversations ebb and flow. After a magical dinner, I met up with Erica. From barking in Italian to Alitalia to discussing what it means to mother to shifts in Italian politics, we dined and dished for hours at Ciampini, whilst savoring hot cappuccinos, fresh yoghurt and granola and tasty mini-donuts. I was going to opt for the cornetto, which bears a striking resemblance to my beloved croissant, but Arlene wisely relayed that cornettos are made sans butter (quel horror! que lastima!). PASS.
After a long day of walking, I was set on returning to Pierluigi, when I discovered RJ Numbs Campo De Fiori on a lark. Everything about this spot was perfection. Lots of Italian to be heard so I knew that amidst all the tourist traps, this is a spot that the locals still patron. I opted for the prix-fix menu, which included buffalo mozzarella in a bed of prosciutto, my beloved cacio e pepe and a feather-light tiramisu. To say that my meal was exquisite would be an understatement. Terrific service + a bevy of people-watching made this a delightful afternoon spot.
As I walked home, I received a text that my luggage had been found. Naturally, I stopped for gelato.
Tomorrow, I’m off to Florence!
ugly as sin, yet so, so good: buckwheat banana pancakes
Posted on April 7, 2013
Arriving at each new city, the traveler finds again a past of his that he did not know he had: the foreignness of what you no longer are or no longer possess lies in wait for you in foreign, unpossessed places. ― Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities
This morning I woke jubilant, anxious. Tomorrow I leave for a three-week European holiday. From Rome to Florence to Siena to Luca to Paris to Bordeaux to Biarritz to wherever the day takes me, I know I’ll return from this trip changed in some way. For the past few months I feel as if I’ve been smothered by the largeness of things. Boxed into a disturbance in one place, where the shapes that ghost my days are monstrous, chattering incessantly. There’s a whisper I’ve only now been able to shake, and in a city so large how is it impossible to feel so small? — the irony of which certainly does not escape me.
This holiday could not have come at a more opportune time, as I need to feel unsettled, off-kilter. I need to get lost in order to find myself again. My first week is a little manic because I’m itinerant: plane to plane to plane to city to unknown bed to dinner to lunch to train to hotel to unpack. I complain about it, but part of me knows this is perhaps what I need to do to shake the remnants of the last few months out of me. To come home, eyes-wide, belly full, heart open. To come home with more than what I left.
But not yet… First, I’ll spend some time tinkering in the kitchen, wearing down the jacket and pages of Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook (realize that every time I type this something inside me curls and dies). Today I made her buckwheat banana pancakes, and believe me when I say these cakes have a face only a mother could love. They’re brown, bordering on grey, with bits of banana poking through, but to say these are delicious and hearty and filling would be an understatement. I love the weightiness of the buckwheat juxtaposed with the creamy banana, made luscious with the golden amber syrup. These cakes are surprisingly light, and I felt satiated without feeling sick. Plus, these are packed with so much goodness, you won’t feel horrible having pancakes for breakfast.
INGREDIENTS: Adapted from Gwyneth Paltrow’s It’s All Good, with modifications
1 1/4 cups almond milk
1 tbsp lemon juice
1 tbsp grape seed oil
1 tbsp maple syrup, plus more for serving
1/2 cup buckwheat flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup white spelt flour (substitute rice flour to make pancakes completely gluten-free)
1/2 tsp salt
2 small bananas (or one large), thinly sliced
1-2 tbsp coconut oil
DIRECTIONS
Mix all the wet ingredients together in a small bowl. Mix all the dry ingredients together in a slightly bigger bowl. Add the wet to the dry and stir just enough to combine – be careful not to over-mix (that’s how you get tough pancakes).
Heat a large nonstick skillet or griddle over medium-high heat and add a tablespoon of butter. Ladle as many pancakes as possible onto your griddle. Place a few slices of banana on top of each pancake. Cook for about a minute and a half on the first side or until the surface is covered with small bubbles and the underside is nicely browned. Flip and cook for about a minute on the second side. Repeat the process until you run out of batter, adding in the remaining tablespoon of coconut oil between batches. I ADORE coconut oil with this as it lends a delicious sweet flavor to the cakes. Serve stacked high with plenty of maple syrup.
guilt-free + delicious chocolate almond cupcakes (true story)
Posted on April 5, 2013
A few weeks ago I had a rather heated conversation with my doctor. Our relationship has always been fraught with drama on the level of theatre or absurdity (usually both), for I’m always convinced that I’ve fallen victim to one affliction or another. When I learned I had a Vitamin D deficiency last summer, I spent weeks on the Internet trying to diagnose myself with an ailment that I was certain my doctor had obscured from me. Chalk it up to a childhood sans health insurance, where hospital visits were epic affairs replete with late movies and hours fidgeting in a waiting room. Back in the day you didn’t see a doctor unless you were on the verge of death, and even then you considered your options.
But back to the conversation at hand. My doctor phoned me with the results of my blood work. I asked, Am I dying? To which my doctor replied, No, but… Naturally, I shrieked because one did not allow for coordinating conjunctions on such occasions. And while my doctor assured me I was fine, just fine, he did notice that I had an abnormal spike in my sugar levels, and upon further investigation, I have a gene that predisposes me to diabetes.
Believe me when I say I was flummoxed. I don’t eat processed or packaged food; I avoid the middle aisles of supermarkets. I EAT KALE! But it didn’t matter because I’m a baker who uses cane sugar. I am a woman who loves carbs. Genetics are genetics. After a few seconds of dramatics, I calmed down and focused on solutions.
Since that conversation, I’ve been the business of sugar reduction. Never have I fallen prey to dramatic dietary changes, but I have made some modifications to my diet. Instead of daily pasta dinner (yes, I know, I know), I have whole wheat pasta three times a week. Instead of bagels and toast, I blitz up a morning protein smoothie that tastes very much like a milkshake.
However, baking proves to be a bit of a challenge. I need to get real with you guys and say there is no true substitute for what sugar, butter and white flour can deliver in a cake, cupcake or loaf. We can make all the modifications under the proverbial sun, but the classics are mainstays for a reason. Yet, I need to get real with myself and admit that the mainstays, while not harmful now, will be in ten years time.
Enter the wretched Gwyneth Paltrow cookbook. Those who know me know that I’ve been going through the tortures of the damned because I have a love/hate relationship with the pedigreed-actress-cum-faux-Martha-Stewart, but her new cookbook is pretty strong, offering smart, virtuous recipes that are free of white flour + sugar.
After I swooned over the banana “ice cream,” I thought I’d try fixing her chocolate almond cupcakes. While they don’t taste like Reece’s Pieces (bless your heart, Gwyneth), they are quite good. These are not your average cupcakes with their airy, feather-light cake consistency, rather they’re fudgy, bordering on a brownie-like texture, and the tops have a lovely crunch to them. My only gripe is that the recipe didn’t convey that the batter makes 18 cupcakes instead of the standard 12 (I found this out researching the recipe online), so some of my cupcakes fell apart after the cooling process.
However, that didn’t stop me from eating one and playing with my kitty.
I invite you to give these cupcakes a go, and I’ll be posting more recipes from the book in an effort to play around with new flours and sweeteners (brown rice syrup is a new, delightful find), sharing my journey along the way.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe adapted from Gwyneth Paltrow’s It’s All Good, modified slightly
Makes about 18 cupcakes
300g (2 cups) white spelt flour (if you can tolerate a little gluten) or all-purpose gluten-free flour (if it doesn’t include it in the gluten-free flour, add 1 teaspoon xanthan gum)
100g (1 cup) high-quality cocoa powder
1½ tbsp baking powder
pinch of sea salt
4oz (½ cup) grapeseed oil or Vegenaise
8oz (1 cup) good-quality maple syrup, plus an additional 4 tablespoons
4oz (½ cup) brown rice syrup
4oz (½ cup) strong brewed coffee (cooled)
4oz (½ cup) almond milk
1 tbsp pure vanilla extract
4 tbsp roasted almond butter
DIRECTIONS
Preheat the oven to 180C/160C fan/350F/gas 4. Line a standard 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners and another tin just with 6 liners. Set it aside.
Sift the flour, cocoa and baking powders and salt together in a large mixing bowl. In a separate bowl, whisk together the vegetable oil or Vegenaise, 1 cup of the maple syrup, the brown rice syrup, coffee, almond milk and vanilla. Mix the wet ingredients into the dry ones, being careful not to over-beat (that’s how you end up with tough cupcakes!). While I’m usually pretty delicate with the dough, I was able to add all of the wet ingredients at once and stir until the flour mixture fully absorbed the we mixture.
Meanwhile, whisk together the almond butter and the remaining 4 tbsp of maple syrup and set it aside.
Fill each muffin cup halfway with the basic batter. Evenly divide the almond butter-maple syrup mixture among the muffin cups and top with the remaining batter. Bake for 25-30 minutes.
Let cool completely before serving.
creature comforts: coconut bread
Posted on March 26, 2013
To say that this winter has been Odyssean, cold and cruel would be an understatement. Five months of misery is enough, but yesterday, I felt a chill to bone and wet snow that swept into my eyes. In between appointments, I held an old friend close and said, this is the best day of your life. I’m finding that if you lead a situation with your heart, the outcome will be nothing less than extraordinary. After, I went home and whipped up a bread that I knew would deliver me comfort.
While this loaf isn’t your normal softened banana bread fare (it doesn’t yield, the crumb is a tad tougher than what I’m accustomed to), I had a slice of this toasted with almond butter and it was perfection. Simple to make, simple to relax and enjoy, and simple to know that every day should be regarded as the best day of your life.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe courtesy of Smitten Kitchen, with slight modifications
2 large eggs
1 1/4 cups (295 ml) full-fat milk
1 teaspoon (5 ml) vanilla extract
2 1/2 cups (315 grams) all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon table salt
2 teaspoons (10 grams) baking powder
1 to 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon (I used 1 tsp of nutmeg as I was out of cinnamon)
1 cup (200 grams) cane sugar
5 ounces (140 grams) sweetened flaked coconut (about 1 1/2 cups)
6 tablespoons (85 grams) unsalted butter, melted or melted and browned, if desired
Vegetable oil or nonstick cooking spray for baking pan
DIRECTIONS
Heat oven to 350 degrees. In a small bowl, whisk together eggs, milk and vanilla.
In a medium bowl, sift together flour, salt, baking powder and cinnamon. Add sugar and coconut, and stir to mix. Make a well in the center, and pour in egg mixture, then stir wet and dry ingredients together until just combined. Add butter, and stir until just smooth — be careful not to overmix.
Butter and flour a 9×5-inch loaf pan. Spread batter in pan and bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean, anywhere from 1 to 1 1/4 hours. Cool in pan five minutes, before turning out onto a cooling rack.
Serve in thick slices, toasted, with butter or almond butter spread.
peanut butter banana protein smoothie
Posted on March 23, 2013
Believe me when I say that I haven’t met a carb I didn’t like. Plump, chewy bagels hot out of the oven slathered with butter, flaky almond croissants, oatmeal piled high with fresh fruit, rye toast — I can rhapsodize on the glories of the carb for days. However, after I had a lengthy discussion with my doctor about my diet, which boiled down to excuses (mine), dismay + shock (his), I need to cut down on my consumption of carbs, considerably. Add brutal workouts and a need to move about the city without feeling sluggish, I started blitzing morning protein-packed smoothies.
Many of you are probably thinking, Oh, please. you’re probably sneaking in an almond butter-smeared rice cake (or croissant) come 10AM. Those who know me well know that I’m always hungry, so if a shake can keep me sane until noon you know it’s the business.
Enter the peanut butter banana smoothie. Rich in protein, potassium and calcium, this thick shake is satisfying and delicious. There are days when I’m still astonished over the fact that I don’t need a mid-morning meal, and I’ve noticed a marked improvement in my endurance during spin + weight training.
Plus, I feel like I’m drinking dessert for breakfast, which isn’t a far cry from my beloved almond croissant.
INGREDIENTS
1 banana (medium or large)
1 heaping tbsp of creamy peanut butter
2 heaping tbsp of protein powder (I bought an organic hemp variety, flavored with vanilla spice, which adds a nice kick to the smoothie)
1/2 cup almond milk
4-6 ice cubes
DIRECTIONS
Add to the blender + blitz until completely combined. Drink immediately.
the snow white loaf: coconut milk banana nutella swirl
Posted on March 10, 2013
For the past three years, my friends always got the leftovers, the exhausted remains of me. The friend who feverishly checked her phone, hit refresh on the web page, who feigned being present but never was. I could tell they were frustrated, but I couldn’t help myself — I unknowingly gave the best part of myself to the wrong person. And wouldn’t you know, as soon as I said goodbye to all that, I passed hours with old friends, phone tucked away in my bag. One brave, sweet friend sighed extravagantly when she said: THANK GOD YOU’RE BACK. WE’VE MISSED YOU.
Granted, I’ve still more faces to see, lives to catch up on, but in the interim I baked this luscious cake for a colleague’s birthday, and I hope she savors every. single. bite.
Listening to: The Morning After Girls’ Hidden Spaces
Reading: Karen Russell’s Vampires in the Lemon Grove
INGREDIENTS: Recipe adapted from Nobile Pig’s delicious recipe, with modifications
For the bread
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3/4 cup cane sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 large egg, room temperature
1 cup + 1 tbsp light coconut milk
1/3 cup melted butter
1 cup sweetened flaked coconut
1 very ripe banana, mashed
1/4 cup Nutella (or any chocolate spread), lightly melted
For the glaze
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
2 tbsp coconut milk
1/2 cup sweetened flaked coconut
DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Prepare a 9 x 5 x 2.75 (correct size is important) baking pan with butter + flour, or coconut spray will suffice. In a small skillet melt the butter and set aside to cool.
Mix the sifted flour, sugar, baking powder and salt in a large bowl. In another bowl beat egg with a fork and stir in melted butter and coconut milk. Combine well. Pour egg mixture into the flour mixture and stir just enough to combine. Fold in coconut and smashed banana.
Spread a third of the batter into the bottom of the loaf pan. Add half of the melted Nutella, covering the batter as best you can without mixing the two together. Add another 1/3 of the batter and cover the mixture completely. Finish with the other half of the Nutella and then more batter to top it off.
Use a table knife and stick it down, all the way through the batter at one end of the loaf pan. Work your way from one side of the pan to the other in a zigzag motion.
Bake 55-65 minutes, until done, ensuring that you turn the bread halfway through the baking process. As my oven is hot, unpredictable and cruel, I start checking at the 45 minute mark. Press on bread and if it feels springy to the touch it is likely finished baking. Let cool 20 minutes in pan before flipping over to a rack to cool completely.
For the glaze, add confectioners sugar to a medium sized bowl and add the milk. Mix until it is a thick, pourable glaze. Pour over bread and sprinkle with coconut. When glaze is dry, slice into 12 pieces.
flaky, buttery feta + chive biscuits
Posted on February 24, 2013
Why does one begin to write? Because she feels misunderstood, I guess. Because it never comes out clearly enough when she tries to speak. Because she wants to rephrase the world, to take it in and give it back again differently, so that everything is used and nothing is lost. Because it’s something to do to pass the time until she is old enough to experience the things she writes about. ― Nicole Krauss
Can I tell you that my oven missed me? I could feel it. I live in a home where I need a blowtorch and a prayer to get my oven to ignite, so on this particularly warm morning, a day when you know spring is just itching to own it, my oven blazed hot and made a sauna of my apartment. Jubilant because it’s a fair day and I’ve got buttery biscuits rising in the oven, a small token for friends throwing an Oscar-themed soiree, come nightfall.
Candidly, it’s been a while since I’ve held dough in hands, felt the alchemy of ingredients coming together like symphony. As you can imagine I’ve been busy trying to catch up on my life. Cleaning my apartment, tossing all the things I’ve amassed over the years but don’t need, seeing old friends and making room for new ones — I haven’t been this efficient or this social in years. And while it’s at turns exhausting, it’s also exhilarating and gratifying because everything feels right. My life feels as it should: whole, because I’ve cultivated a patchwork of brilliant, beautiful people that weave in and out of my world, inspiring me beyond measure. No matter what happens after my final day at work, I know I’ll live a great, sweeping life. I know this because I dared to risk. I dared myself to leap out of my comfort zone, to be frightened of the world and everything in it, to incant all the things that could potentially go wrong {you’ll be homeless, a voice whispers and a fist shakes} and erase the tape. I’m spending time with those who open my eyes with a crowbar to let all the light in.
Let all the light in. Do it, do it now, because there is not one person whose body can house regret; our inevitable heartbreak from what might have been could drown oceans if it wanted to. We come like swallows, painting the sky black. And then we find ourselves in the dark again — boxed in, no way out — with one hand to our heart and the other on an open grave and we hear the silence of the one lone clock that stopped beating.
Here’s me, winding the clock. Here’s me, placing it gently on a blanket. Here’s me whispering, beat, beat.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe courtesy of Joy the Baker
makes about 12 small scones
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tbsp cane sugar
2 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp cracked black pepper
3/4 (1 1/2 sticks) cup unsalted butter, cold and cut into cubes
1 egg, beaten
3 tbsp cold water
3/4 cup sour cream, cold
1/3 cup chopped chives
3/4 cup big crumbles of feta cheese
1 egg beaten for egg wash
coarse sea salt, cracked black pepper, and smoky paprika for topping
DIRECTIONS
Place rack in the center and upper third of the oven and preheat oven to 400 degrees F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.
In a mixing bowl, sift together flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and black pepper. Cut in butter (I use a pastry cutter because I’d rather keep my warm hands away from cold dough) until the mixture resembles a coarse meal. The dough should have fat, buttery peas throughout. In another bowl, beat the egg, sour cream, and water until combined. Add the egg and sour cream mixture to the flour mixture all at once, stirring enough to make a soft and shaggy dough. Recently I learned about the “under/over” method, where I use my fork to scrape from the bottom to the top of the dough to ensure that I don’t have a pile of flour that isn’t damp or part of the butter mixture. Add the chives and feta and dump mixture on a clean counter to knead the dough together. You will think this will never come together as I did, but trust me, it does. The mixture will come together in about 10 to 15 kneads.
Roll or pat out into a 1-inch thickness. Cut into 2-inch rounds using a biscuit cutter or cut into 2×2-inch squares. Reshape and roll dough to create more biscuits with excess scraps. Place on prepared baking sheet, brush with egg wash and sprinkle with coarse sea salt, black pepper, and smoky paprika. Bake for 12-15 minutes. Serve warm. These biscuits are best eaten the day they’re made, but will last up to 2 days.
blood orange coconut loaf with blood orange syrupy glaze
Posted on February 6, 2013
Baking is home to me. Whenever there’s an air of disquiet I find myself covered in flour, mixing batter in bowls. I like the tactical nature of baking, sifting dough, shaping it with my hands. There’s something soothing and melodic about the alchemy of baking, how it allows you to create something from nothing. Cakes and cookies and pies have been my constant through the years, and I often feel there’s nothing that some time alone and a batter can’t cure. Well, almost. Hot ovens comfort me in a way that’s sometimes difficult to explain, and there’s nothing, at least for me, that replicates the feeling of putting on the mits, getting a blast of hot air on my skin as I unearth the next great object of devotion.
While I’ve taken a holiday this week, I’m experiencing a bit of personal frenzy. Amidst the wintering, I’m trying to find some space, some quiet, and although I feel the next few months will be challenging, I’m hopeful for the magic that lies on the other side. So today I spent the morning baking my heart out. Baking it out like song, like sermon.
And I couldn’t stop reading this passage from Alice Munro’s story collection, wondering if the reason why I cleave to it so has something to do with my current state of affairs. We’ll see, see, see:
It still seemed as if we could make our way out of the crowd, that in a moment we would be together. But just as certain that we would carry on in the way we were going. And so we did. No breathless cry, no hand on my shoulder when we reached the sidewalk. Just that flash, that I had seen in an instant, when one of his eyes opened wider. It was the left eye, always the left, as I remembered. And it always looked so strange, alert and wondering, as if some whole impossibility had occurred to him, one that almost made him laugh.
INGREDIENTS
For the loaf
1 1/2 cup (150g) all-purpose flour
2 tbsp freshly-grated blood orange zest (you’ll need two large blood oranges for this recipe)
1/2 cup cane sugar
1/2 cup coconut palm sugar
1/2 cup coconut oil, melted and cooled
2 large eggs, room temperature
1 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp kosher salt
4 tbsp (30ml) blood orange juice
1/3 cup coconut milk
For the glaze
2 tbsp brand orange juice
1 cup confectioner’s sugar
DIRECTIONS
Pre-heat the oven to 350F. Spray a 9×5 inch with coconut oil cooking spray (feel free to butter the pan if you don’t mind dairy).
In a large bowl, rub the blood orange zest into the sugars with your fingertips. Not only does this release the grapefruit essence and some of the juice, you’ll find your sugar wonderfully damp and fragrant. Add the sugar mixture to a large bowl. Whisk in the oil until smooth, and then add the eggs, one at a time, and whisk until combined. Scrape down the bowl.
Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt in a second bowl. In another bowl, combine 2 tbsp blood orange juice and coconut milk, and whisk together until combined. Add the flour and the coconut milk mixtures, alternating between them, to the oil-and-sugar mixture, beginning and ending with flour.
Spread the batter in the pan, smooth the top, and rap the pan on the counter to ensure there are no trapped air bubbles. Bake for 45-55 minutes, or until a skewer comes out clean.
For the glaze, whisk the sugar and juice until a thick glaze forms.
When the loaf is finished, let it cool for 10 minutes in the pan before inverting it onto a rack set over a tray or tin foil. Poke holes in loaf with a skewer or toothpick, then spoon or brush the 2 tbsp of reserve juice over the loaf. Let the loaf cool completely while it absorbs the syrup. Pour over the glaze once the bread has cooled. I couldn’t wait, as you can see, so I had a bit of a mess. But WHO CARES? It was still good.
chocolate chip scones: a scone only a mother could love
Posted on January 29, 2013
Make no mistake — these scones are ugly as sin but believe me when I say they were delicious. I’ve been battling this lately, the notion that all food photos have to be beautiful and awe-inspiring, sometimes unrealistically so. We’re drawn to the pretty and the perfect; our hearts covet the things that we see. We crave the idyll, we’re voyeurs who love to pore over photographs of the contents of someone’s home, closet, pantry or wallet. This is also why you’re seeing a slew of bloggers talk about “keeping it real” in 2013, how they want to show the boring, unseemly sides of their lives to give some color to the carefully-honed “reality” they architect in their online spaces.
Make no mistake — I’m a victim of this need for perfection just like anyone else. I held back posting this recipe for a month because every time I looked at the final scone shots I found myself shaking my head, thinking: This is too ugly for type. This is a scone only a mother could love. And the excuses piled on.
However, this morning I woke up and started thinking about the imperfect, and how that is so much more beautiful than the artificial stuff we see in movies and magazines. In the mess lies the passion. In the misshapen lies the devotion. Nothing is every worth it if there is no struggle, if it’s too easy, too pretty, so with that I hit the publish button and here you go.
Yummy, semi-frightful looking, scones.
INGREDIENTS: Adapted from Karen DeMasco’s The Craft of Baking
1 3/4 cups (210 grams) all-purpose flour, plus more for rolling
1 tbsp plus 1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 cups plus 2 tbsp granulated sugar
1/2 tsp kosher salt
6 tbsp (85 grams) chilled unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup (84 grams) semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup plus 2 tbsp heavy cream
1 tbsp Demerara sugar
DIRECTIONS
In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine the flour, baking powder, granulated sugar, and salt. Add the butter. Put the bowl in the freezer for 5 minutes. Then beat the mixture on low speed until the butter is broken up into pebble-sized pieces, about 3 minutes.
Add the chocolate chips. With the mixer on low speed, add 1 cup of the cream and mix just until the dough comes together. Using your hands, knead the mixture in the bowl to bring the dough completely together.
Turn out the dough onto a lightly floured surface and roll it into a 7-inch round, about 3/4 inch thick. Using a sharp knife, cut the dough into 12 wedges (8 if you like bigger pieces), like pieces of pie.
Place the pieces on a baking sheet, spacing them 1/2 inch apart. Cover with plastic wrap and freeze for 15 minutes or chill in the refrigerator for 1 hour. While the scones are chilling preheat the oven to 375 degrees.
Brush the scones with the remaining 2 tablespoons cream and sprinkle with the Demerara sugar. Bake the scones, rotating the baking sheet once, until the baking tray once, until they are golden on the edges and firm to the touch, about 20 minutes.
Transfer to a wire rack to cool. The scones are best served the day they are made, but they will keep in a airtight container at room temperature for 3 days.
get ready to weep: herb-gruyère biscuits
Posted on January 13, 2013
Every holiday I make the Odyssean trek to Connecticut to spend time in a warm home surrounded by a vast forest. The drive from New Haven is a long one, and the road ahead is wrapped in a ticker-tape of trees that were once deciduous but are now covered in bone-white snow. This year my friend’s husband collected me from the train station, and as we passed the time in catch-up conversation, I slid further down in my seat. Taking comfort in watching my oldest and dearest friend’s husband drive.
I should tell you that I don’t like cars — they feel like metal coffins, and I’m always skittish when on the road. There’s not only you with your hands on the wheel and the road in front of you, but there’s all sorts of people, strangers really, to consider. So while my friend’s husband expertly navigated our way home, I found myself closing my eyes. Trying to forget the cars around me.
During the ride I did what I’m wont to do, which is ask after the food. We spoke of grilled fillets and chipotle sweet potatoes, and when he mentioned the biscuits, THE BISCUITS, I went weak in the knees. It should be noted that my friend Elizabeth makes the BEST. BISCUITS. EVER.
I mean, the BEST.
And after I managed to consume four in one sitting, I begged my friend for the recipe and she was kind enough to slip it into a package she sent a week later. So it’s with love and light that I honor Elizabeth and her kind husband by re-creating my true love. THE BISCUIT.
INGREDIENTS: Recipe courtesy of Food + Wine.
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon chopped thyme leaves
1/2 teaspoon finely chopped sage leaves
1 cup shredded Gruyère
1 1/2 sticks unsalted butter—10 tablespoons cut into 1/2-inch cubes and chilled, 2 tablespoons melted
1 cup buttermilk, chilled
Flaky salt, such as Maldon, for sprinkling
DIRECTIONS
Preheat the oven to 425° and position a rack in the lower third of the oven. In a large shallow bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, baking soda and fine salt. Add the chilled butter and use a pastry blender or 2 knives to cut the butter into the flour until it is the size of peas. Add the chopped thyme and sage, and the Gruyère. Stir in the buttermilk just until the dough is moistened. Lightly dust a work surface with flour. Turn the dough out onto the surface and knead 2 or 3 times, just until it comes together. Pat the dough into a 1/2-inch-thick disk.
Using a floured 2 1/4-inch round cookie cutter, stamp out biscuit rounds as closely together as possible. Gather the scraps and knead them together 2 or 3 times, then flatten the dough and stamp out more biscuit rounds. Pat the remaining scraps together and gently press them into a biscuit.
Transfer the biscuits to a large baking sheet and brush the tops with the melted butter. Lightly sprinkle the biscuits with a few grains of flaky salt and chill until firm, about 10 minutes.
Bake the biscuits for 20 minutes, or until golden. Let the biscuits cool slightly on the baking sheet before serving.
MAKE AHEAD The unbaked biscuits can be frozen: Freeze biscuits in a single layer and transfer to a resealable plastic bag for up to one month. Bake straight from the freezer, adding a few minutes to the cooking time.
