I have yet to hear of a tofu preparation touted for allowing tofu’s true flavor to shine, lauded for not overpowering tofu’s delicate nature. Subtlety is not the name of the game when it comes to dressing up tofu. Domination is more like it. It’s all about the sauce.

This principle holds true with the two tofu recipes I make with some regularity. In the first, a block of tofu that has gently simmered in water bathes in a scallion and garlic soy-based sauce; in the second, cubes of crispy sesame-coated tofu plunge into nuoc cham, a pungent spicy, sweet, and sour Vietnamese dipping sauce.

And this principle holds true as well for marinated tofu, a preparation I have only just discovered. I hadn’t really given marinated tofu a thought before last month, when I was on my soba noodle salad with peanut sauce binge, and a variation I had made with tofu left me unsatisfied. Even when tossed with that yummy peanut dressing, the cubes of tofu I had pan-fried tasted bland, and they were a pain to prepare to boot.

Suspecting that marinating might be the best preparation for tofu in these sorts of salad, I tried a few recipes, all of which I really liked. You see, what’s great about this treatment for tofu is that if you like the marinade, you’re going to like the tofu. There are no surprises. A tofu marinade won’t ever behave like cake batter, tasting delectable unbaked but inedible baked. The only trick is to use firm or extra-firm tofu and to drain the tofu for as long as possible — an hour at least — before marinating. The longer you marinate, too, the more flavorful the tofu. It’s completely straightforward.

I’m sorry to bore you with another soba noodle salad, but I can’t get enough of them these days. They are a great way to use up leftover steak or chicken or any number of meats you have stashed in your fridge; they take no time to whip up — soba noodles cook in four minutes; and they taste as light as can be.

And should you not have any leftover meat on hand, marinated tofu is a great option for making these salads feel a little more complete. Here, both the tofu and the noodles are dressed with the same sauce, a ginger and garlic soy-based dressing that I learned (source now forgotten) to make years ago. It’s a great all-purpose dressing to use with any number of Asian noodles, but it excels in one area in particular: complete tofu domination. There’s nothing subtle about it.

Soba Noodle Salad with Marinated Tofu, Mint & Scallions

Notes: Obviously, the contents of this salad can be tailored to your liking. Recently I am really liking these types of salads on the simple side: one or two herbs, scallions, cucumbers if I have them, and a small amount of protein — chopped peanuts, leftover steak, tofu, etc.

soba noodles, dried or fresh (about 3 oz. per serving for dried; don’t know about fresh unfortunately)
scallions, white and green parts thinly sliced (about 3 scallions per serving)
mint, cilantro, Thai basil, whatever you like (1-2 tablespoons minced per serving)
marinated tofu (3 to 4 oz. per serving), recipe below
soy dressing, recipe below

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil. Add soba to water and turn heat down so that the water is gently simmering — soba is a little more delicate than pasta and you don’t want the water rapidly boiling if you can help it. Boil 4 minutes (for dried) and about a minute (for fresh), drain and rinse under cold water using your hand to disperse the water evenly over the noodles — again, the noodles are delicate.

2. Let the noodles dry in a colander, and if need be, gently pat them dry with some paper towels. Meanwhile, mince the scallions thinly on the bias (if you wish) and julienne the mint.

3. At this point, you can serve the salad however you wish. I don’t like to toss the noodles with the tofu — it just becomes a big mess. This is what I like to do: toss the noodles with the dressing so that the noodles are nicely coated. Divide noodles among bowls. Top each bowl with scallions, mint and tofu. You can kind of mix the noodles with the herbs and scallions as you eat, and grab bites of tofu along the way, too.

4. Serve with Sriracha on the side.

Soy Dressing:

Note: I like to make a double batch of this dressing because it’s nice to have on hand and because it makes a nice marinade for tofu. Also, while a knife might be just as fast, you can mince the garlic and ginger together in the food processor. I know it seems like a lot to clean for such a small amount of ingredients, but if you rinse out your processor immediately after you mince up the garlic and ginger, it cleans up nicely and easily.

1/4 cup soy sauce
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons mirin
1.5 tablespoons sesame oil
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
a small nub of ginger, minced to yield about 1-2 tablespoons
1 to 3 teaspoons sugar, depending on your taste
1/4 to 1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes
Sriracha (optional)

1. Combine all of the ingredients with the exception of the sugar, crushed red pepper flakes and Sriracha in a small bowl. Add one teaspoon of the sugar and 1/4 teaspoon of the crushed red pepper flakes. Stir to combine. Taste. Add more sugar by the teaspoonful or half teaspoonful to taste — I like it with about 1.5 to 2 teaspoons of sugar. Add more crushed red pepper flakes to taste. If you wish, add a splash of Sriracha. You can always add the Sriracha directly to the noodle salad, too.

Marinated Tofu:

one 14 oz (about) block of firm or extra-firm tofu

1. Drain the tofu for as much time as possible — I would say for at least an hour if possible. This is how I drain it: place block of tofu in a colander. Place the package (or some other similar-sized vessel) on top of it and weigh it down with a can of tomatoes or some other relatively heavy canned good. Note: this also can be done ahead of time. I essentially leave mine out all day, but if leaving it out all day worries you, you could line a bowl with paper towels and stick the tofu on the paper towels, weigh it down as described and leave it in the fridge until you are ready to slice and cook it.

2. Remove tofu from colander or plate and dab it dry with paper towels. Lay the large surface of the block on a cutting board. With your knife parallel to the short side of the block, slice down every quarter or half inch. After you have made four or five cuts, stack these slices on top of one another and cut again into strips about a quarter- or a half-inch thick. Note: You can cut the tofu however you wish. You just don’t want the slices to be too thick because they will take longer to marinate and might not marinate as well; you also don’t want the slices to be too thin, because if they marinate for too long, they tend to fall apart a bit.

3. Place tofu slices in flat-bottomed vessel. Pour marinade overtop to submerge. Let sit for at least an hour and for as long as overnight.

On one Mother’s Day many years ago, my sister and I ordered our mother a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Although unoriginal and basically thoughtless, the idea might have been somewhat good had we not used mom’s credit card to pay for the transaction. Oops. Let’s just say once the details of the purchase surfaced, mother was less than pleased.

“Have I taught you nothing?!” she cried. “All I want is a card! All I EVER want is a card! It’s so simple. A handmade card!”

Roger.

While I likely knew all of that back then, over the years I have learned that I can’t go wrong on gift-giving occasions when I keep in mind the things that truly make our mother happy, namely said handmade card, photos, phone calls, tins of sardines, cold beer, popcorn, Jack Black, tea (preferably PG Tips served in thin-thin porcelain cups), an extra pair of scissors… simple things, really.

She also happens to love lemons, and when she arrived yesterday after an 8-hour drive from Connecticut to find a few loaves of this lemon-ricotta pound cake on the table, a teakettle whistling, and an accordion photo book featuring a few of her favorite little people, let’s just say I received a you-know-what-makes-me-happy sigh and hug, which I can only hope pushed that memory of the aforementioned Mother’s Day a little further into the distance.

This pound cake is just a variation of one I made over the holidays, which called for orange zest and orange liqueur. Here, lemon zest and juice have replaced the orange zest and liqueur, and the baking powder has been reduced a tad, too. Like the orange and ricotta cake, this one is incredibly moist and delicious, and while the peak of lemon season has passed, somehow nothing feels springier than lemony treats. It’s also a cinch to throw together, a detail we need not share with our mothers.

Lemon-Ricotta Loaf

Source: Giada De Laurentiis
Yield = one 9x5x3-inch loaf or three mini loaves

Note: The original recipe calls for orange zest and orange liqueur, which are also delicious flavorings. I’ve cut back the baking powder by a half teaspoon as well because I’ve had spilling issues in the past.

3/4 cup (1 1/2 sticks | 6 oz | 170 g) unsalted butter, at room temperature, plus more to grease the baking pan
1 1/2 cups (6.75 oz | 196 g) cake flour (I used all-purpose)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 1/2 (13 oz | 366 g) cups whole-milk ricotta cheese
1 1/2 cups plus 1 tablespoon (12.5 oz | 360 g) granulated sugar
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
zest of 1 to 2 lemons
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice (less than 1 lemon, usually)

1. Preheat the oven to 350ºF. Grease a 9-by-5-by-3-inch loaf pan or 3 three mini loaf pans with butter (grease pans very well). In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Stir to blend.

2. Using a mixer, cream the butter, ricotta and granulated sugar until blended, about 3 minutes — I never really go over three minutes, and it’s ok if there are some visible pieces of butter. In other words, the batter will not look entirely smooth (see photo). With the machine running, add the eggs 1 at a time. Add the vanilla, zest and lemon juice until combined. Add the dry ingredients, a small amount at a time, until just incorporated.

3. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake until a toothpick comes out clean and the cake pulls away from the sides of the pan, 50 to 60 minutes (or 5 to 10 additional minutes — cover loosely with foil if top is getting too brown) for standard loaf pan and 40 to 45 minutes for mini pans. (Note: Times might vary dramatically depending on the type of pan you are using. If you are using Pyrex or Corningware or some other glass or ceramic loaf pan, the loaves might take an hour or an hour and 15 minutes to bake. If you notice the top browning too much before the cake is finished, cover it loosely with a sheet of aluminum foil.) Let cool in the pan for about 15 minutes, then run a knife around the edges of the pan(s) and transfer loaf/loaves to a rack to cool completely.

Handmade Accordion Photo Book
Size = 3.5 x 5 inches
16 photos total

The inspiration for this accordion book came from a post on A Cup of Jo a few weeks ago featuring these beautiful brag and photo books made by Pinhole Press.

Materials:

28″x22″ poster board (this standard size will provide enough for four of these 16-photo accordion books)
ruler
X-acto knife (or scissors)
self-healing cutting board (if you are using x-acto knife)
scoreboard (optional, but a nice tool to have)
paper cutter (optional, just nice to have)
some sort of thick, sturdy board such as matboard (enough for two 3.5 x 5-inch sheets)
decorative paper to line inside of book covers (enough for two 3.5 x 5-inch sheets)
some sort of plain material to line outside of book covers (I found adhesive cork board/paper at Michael’s that worked really well)
spray mount
ribbon (enough for two 25-inch long strips)
16 photos (3.5 x 5-inch or 4 x 6-inch — you’ll need to trim them down somewhat no matter what size you are able to print them)

Instructions:

1. Using whatever tools you have — I use a ruler, X-Acto knife, and self-healing cutting board — cut poster board into a strip 5 inches wide and 28 inches long (the length of the poster board if you’ve purchased that size.)

2. If you have a scoreboard, score the strip every 3.5 inches, flipping the strip of paper over every time you make a new score. Fold this strip up into an accordion and set aside.

3. Cut the thick sturdy board, the decorative paper and the plain paper into 3.5 x 5-inch sheets (you need two of each material in this size). If you have found some sort of adhesive paper such as the cork board I mentioned in the materials, peel off the backing and place it on one side of the sturdy board. Alternatively, spray mount or glue it on to the board. Repeat with other board. Lay each of these boards down on newspaper so that the plain side is facing up. Spray some spray mount over the surface (or use glue) of one of the boards and lay one ribbon down about halfway down the long side of the board making sure that a couple of inches of ribbon extends over one side, and the remaining ribbon extends over the other. Repeat with remaining board.

4. Apply more spray mount over the ribbon and exposed board and place the decorative piece of paper over the top to cover the ribbon and board. Repeat with remaining board.

5. Trim the edges of the photos so that they are just under 3.5 x 5-inches in size — if they are 3.5 x 5 inches exactly or slightly larger, they will create issues during the folding process, so it’s best to trim them just under 3.5 x 5 inches. Stretch out the long sheet of poster board. Apply spray mount evenly over the strip. Lay one photo in each space. If you feel you need to apply more spray mount at any point, just be sure to cover any adjacent photos because if they get sprayed, they will cause sticking issues when you are ready to fold up your book.

6. Flip over this strip and apply spray mount to the other side. Line up the two ends of the book next to the photo strip making sure the short end of the ribbon is closest to the photo strip. Lay the short end of the ribbon over the strip of poster board making sure that the book cover is close to the photo strip but not too close — a teensy bit of space helps when you are ready to fold. Repeat with other end. Lay remaining photos onto photo strip making sure they are oriented appropriately with the photos that you applied to the other side of the strip.

7. Let dry briefly before folding and wrapping.

During the week of Passover, I received an email from one of the many food websites I subscribe to featuring the most beautiful macaroons I had ever seen. I immediately clicked on the link to read the post, examine the recipe, and check out the comments. But as I scrolled through the oohs and aahs, I came across one comment that made me pause:

“I can’t fathom why you would want sweetened coconut for anything, it’s full of preservatives and has the consistency of wet shredded Styrofoam. There’s sugar in the recipe anyway – do yourself a favor and get unsweetened coconut, it’s already sweet and delicious.”

Upon reading this, my first thought was, “I don’t like your tone Young Lady.” I didn’t — I mean, is it so hard to use our nice voices? My second thought was, “Maybe this rascal is on to something?” I have always used sweetened shredded coconut in my granola recipe, which I love, and which I haven’t thought about changing in years. But I decided to do some sleuthing even so. I pulled a bag of sweetened shredded coconut from my pantry and read the ingredient list: desiccated coconut, sugar, water, propylene glycol, salt, sodium metabisulfite (to retain color).

I googled propylene glycol to discover it is a “synthetic liquid substance that absorbs water and is used by the chemical, food, and pharmaceutical industries as an antifreeze when leakage might lead to contact with food.” Furthermore, “the Food and Drug Administration has classified propylene glycol as an additive that is ‘generally recognized as safe’ for use in food.”

Hmmm. Generally recognized as safe for use in food. I hate to be an alarmist, and perhaps the amount of propylene glycol in sweetened shredded coconut is negligible, but this phrase got me thinking. For the odd macaroon or slice of quick bread, perhaps propylene glycol is not worth losing any sleep over. But for the bowl of granola consumed nearly every morning? A substitute was worth looking into. I mean, there wasn’t even that somewhat reassuring clause — “contains 2% or less of …” — printed before the ingredient in question. And even so, I don’t want to consume anything — ever — that is only “generally recognized as safe” no matter how small the amount.

I immediately made a batch of my granola substituting unsweetened flaked coconut (a one-ingredient product: natural unsulfured coconut) by weight for the shredded, sweetened coconut. Incredibly, the difference was virtually unnoticeable. The new batch browned the same as always, cooked in the same amount of time, and clustered upon cooling just as I like. When eaten plain or with milk, the granola tasted just as sweet. And when eaten with plain yogurt, the granola tasted slightly less sweet, an issue a little drizzling of honey quickly resolved. (Note: I was fortunate to have this result. Unsweetened flaked coconut, as I understand, cannot always be substituted so seamlessly for sweetened shredded coconut, so be warned when making this substitution in your favorite recipes. )

With my granola recipe updated, I began thinking about my granola bars, which also call for sweetened shredded coconut. But before I had a chance to experiment, a fortuitous conversation at the park with a friend led me to a different recipe entirely, one she had been making by the double batch several times a week for her family, who declared her a culinary goddess for being able to produce chewy, Quaker Oat-like granola bars at home.

I had to give the recipe a go, and I’m so glad I did. The granola bars not only held together at room temperature — a first for me in the no-bake genre — but also resembled the chewiest of the chewy store-bought varieties, a feat I thought only could be achieved by the workings of a host of hideous ingredients.

I have outlined in detail below the trial-and-error process of four batches of these bars, the last one producing the ideal granola bar for me: a tasty, incredibly chewy bar that contains healthful ingredients, no processed cereals, and no candy-like additions… boring, I know, but I like to feel good about eating these bars morning, noon and night. The recipe has evolved from one that called primarily for a mixture of instant oats and Rice Krispies cereal to one that contains a mixture of oats, sliced almonds, unsweetened coconut, and wheat germ. Obviously the bars can be tailored to your liking with additions such as dried fruit, nuts, seeds, wheat bran, oat bran, chocolate chips, etc. And while I have a favorite combination for the “glue” that binds the dry ingredients together — coconut oil, brown rice syrup, and Lyle’s Golden Syrup — there are options for substitutions here as well.

I thought I had found the perfect granola bar when I saw it arch into a backbend on my kitchen table. But this sort of acrobatic display is child’s play for these bars — sign these guys up for Cirque du Soleil.

Note: Not all sweetened, shredded coconut contains propylene glycol, so before you dismiss the ingredient entirely, check your bag. Trader Joe’s brand does not contain propylene glycol.

The photos of the finished bars throughout this post will all look slightly different — there are about four different variations pictured below. These are from round 1:

My replacement for sweetened shredded coconut:

Oats, unsweetened coconut, sliced almonds, wheat germ, and crispy brown rice cereal:

Rice Krispies and Crispy Brown Rice cereals:

The ingredients for the “glue”:

An alternative to Rice Krispies, this Crispy Brown Rice cereal provides a nice texture without adding additional sweetness:

Before I break down the whole trial and error process, let me make a disclaimer: at first glance, you might feel I am sending you off on a wild goose chase for a host of random ingredients. The truth is that there is only really one ingredient — brown rice syrup — that you might have a hard time finding, and that the ultimate make-up of the dry ingredients does not have to include processed cereal and can be tailored to your liking.

OK, here we go:

The basic composition of the original recipe is such: dry ingredients: 2 cups quick oats, 1 cup crispy rice cereal; wet ingredients: 1/4 cup of each of the following: butter or coconut oil, brown rice syrup, and honey or brown sugar; the flavorings: salt, vanilla, and a few tablespoons of raisins.

Round 1: dry ingredients: 2 cups quick oats, 1 cup Rice Krispies cereal; wet ingredients: 1/4 cup coconut oil, 1/4 cup brown rice syrup, 1/4 cup golden syrup*. the flavorings: 1 teaspoon (original recipe calls for 1/8 tsp) kosher salt, 1 teaspoon vanilla. I omitted the raisins because my eldest child dismisses foods with raisins before even tasting them.

*I discovered golden syrup while searching for a substitute for the corn syrup in my granola bar recipe. I find it yields a chewier texture than honey, which is why I have used it here.

Round 1 results: Incredible texture — completely chewy resembling the best textured store-bought granola bars you can imagine. That said, I had a few issues. For one, I found them a little too sweet. Second, I don’t like the idea of having to buy Rice Krispies cereal, which is not something I generally have on hand.

Searching for a substitute for the Rice Krispies was the next step. In the natural foods section of my grocery store, I found Crispy Brown Rice (Erewhon brand) with this ingredient list: Organic brown rice, organic brown rice syrup, and sea salt. If I could keep the total weight (about 225 grams) of the oats and crispy rice cereal the same, with any luck the texture of the bar would not be compromised and the sweetness issue would be resolved. So, I substituted by weight Crispy Brown Rice for Rice Krispies in round 2:

Round 2: dry ingredients: 200 grams (about 2 cups) quick oats, 25 grams (less than a cup) Crispy Brown Rice cereal. wet ingredients: same as round 1. the flavorings: same as round 1.

Round 2 results: Perfect sweetness with that same incredible texture. At this point, I felt I had discovered the proper ratio of dry ingredients (225 grams) to wet ingredients (3/4 cup — sorry I don’t have a weight for this).

On to the next issue. Although I loved the texture of the bars from the first two rounds, I did find that they slightly resembled in texture that of a Rice Krispie treat, which is a beautiful thing, but truthfully not the ideal for me in a granola bar. The next step: reduce the amount of crispy rice cereal and add in some other healthful ingredients keeping the total weight of the dry ingredients between 225 and 235 grams.

Round 3: 1 cup (100 g) quick oats, 1/2 cup (18 g) rice cereal, 1/2 cup (42 g) unsweetened shredded coconut, 1/2 cup (56 g) sliced almonds, 3 tablespoons (16 g) wheat germ. wet ingredients: same as round 1. the flavorings: same as round 1.

Round 3 results: Perfect sweetness and texture — the reduction of crispy brown rice cereal eliminated the semblance to Rice Krispie treats. The inclusion of coconut, almonds, and wheat germ not only added flavor and texture, but also some nutritional value.

At this point, I had only one real issue to resolve: having to buy crispy rice cereal to make these bars. Neither Rice Krispies or Crispy Brown Rice cereal (which as far as I can tell contains all good stuff) is something I want to be purchasing at the grocery store. Even when the ingredient lists on these cereals are on the friendly side, they are still processed foods. If I can avoid having to buy them, I do. So, for the last batch, I cut out the Crispy Brown Rice cereal entirely:

Round 4: 118 g (the weight of 1 cup quick oats plus 1/2 cup crispy brown rice cereal) cup quick oats, 1/2 cup (42 g) unsweetened shredded coconut, 1/2 cup (56 g) sliced almonds, 3 tablespoons (16 g) wheat germ. wet ingredients: same as round 1. the flavorings: same as round 1.

Round 4 results: Only the slightest compromise in texture — the bars can still do a backbend — with the same lovely flavor. After I finish my box of crispy brown rice cereal, I will likely not repurchase another. I can live with the slightly less ideal texture if it means not having to buy one other ingredient at the store.

Chewy No-Bake Granola Bars

Adapted from this Momables recipe
Yield = 18 bars

Notes: I have never used butter, but apparently it works well. Brown rice syrup can be hard to track down — I can find it at Wegmans in the gluten-free aisle. I have not tried honey, because I have really taken to Lyle’s Golden Syrup, but my friend who makes these all the time always uses honey. This friend also has warned me that the brown sugar does not yield as chewy a bar. Finally, the make-up of the dry ingredients can be tailored to your liking. Just try to aim for around 225 – 235 grams of dry ingredients for the given amount of wet ingredients.

1 cup (100g) quick-cooking oats*
1/2 cup (18g) low-sugar crisp rice cereal* (optional)
1/2 cup (42g) unsweetened flaked coconut (I like Bob’s Red Mill brand)
1/2 cup (56g) sliced almonds
3 tablespoons (16g) wheat germ
1 teaspoon (8g) kosher salt

1/4 cup coconut oil or butter
1/4 cup brown rice syrup
1/4 cup Lyle’s Golden Syrup or honey or brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla

* Though I haven’t yet tried this, I imagine rolled oats might work OK here, too? If you only have rolled oats on hand and want to use them, you might consider giving them a brief whizz in the food processor. I will report back on this when I get around to experimenting with rolled oats.

**I used Erewhon Crispy Brown Rice cereal, which I found at Wegmans in the natural foods section. If you want to omit the cereal, up the oats (or other ingredient of choice) by 18 grams. This omission will not affect the flavor but the texture of the final bar will be slightly less chewy.

1. Line an 8×8-inch or 9×9-inch pan with parchment paper. If you have clips of any kind, secure the parchment paper to the edge of the pan. I have used both pan sizes to make these and don’t have a preference. Obviously, the 8×8-inch pan yields a slightly thicker bar, but the chewiness factor does not seem to be affected by the size of the pan. Set aside.

2. Combine the oats, cereal, coconut, almonds, wheat germ and salt in a large mixing bowl. As noted above, this mixture should weigh about 225 – 235 grams, so feel free to use your ingredients of choice. Set aside.

3. In a small saucepan, combine the coconut oil or butter, brown rice syrup, golden syrup or honey or brown sugar. Place the pan over high heat; have a heat-proof spatula and a timer nearby. When the mixture begins to bubble up, immediately reduce the heat to low or medium low. Stir constantly for 4 minutes, taking the pan off the heat initially as necessary to calm the bubbling. I find that even on my lowest setting, my mixture gently bubbles. You probably could get away with not stirring constantly for the last couple of minutes, but I always do to be safe. The mixture should be gently bubbling for the entire 4 minutes. Remove pan from the heat, pour it over the dry ingredients, add the teaspoon of vanilla and stir to combine thoroughly. (Note: you probably could add the vanilla to the hot pan, but I always feel that it sizzles (and perhaps evaporates?) upon contact with the hot liquid, which perhaps reduces its flavor enhancing? Just thoughts, nothing scientific, so add the vanilla as you see fit.)

4. Spread the granola bar mixture into your prepared pan. Pat down with a spatula. Place another sheet of parchment paper over top and using your hands or a flat-bottomed measuring cup pack down the mixture as tightly and evenly as possible. Set aside for 2 hours before cutting into bars.

In addition to mascarpone sorbet, my gnudi-making debacle, which left me with pounds of semolina flour in my pantry, has led to another pleasant discovery: relatively easy and completely delicious ciabatta-like sandwich rolls.

It turns out that when one cup of the all-purpose flour in the peasant bread dough is replaced with one cup of semolina flour, the loaves transform a bit, becoming at once chewier and lighter in texture and slightly more golden in color.

And when the dough, instead of being shaped into two loaves, is portioned into roll-sized pieces and sprinkled, just like those ever-so-promising gnudi, heavily with semolina flour, and gently stretched into squares or elongated “slippers,” it bakes off into light sandwich rolls, crispy on the exterior and soft on the interior.

But when the unbaked rolls are allowed to be pampered just a bit more by an overnight rest in the fridge, they bake off even more beautifully, becoming even crispier on the exterior, more porous on the interior, feather-light in weight, gorgeously golden in color, and resembling in taste the most delectable ciabatta, so well suited for housing any number of sliced meats and cheeses, fried eggs and bacon, or slices of mozzarella and tomato.

Upon halving the rolls and observing the beautiful web of craters stretching from crust to crust, I couldn’t help but think about a sandwich I have dreamt about making and eating since reading Gabrielle Hamilton’s Blood, Bones & Butter last summer. The sandwich, prepared by Gabrielle’s ex-husband during their courtship, at its core is simple — arugula and prosciutto drizzled with olive oil layered between good bread. Anyone could prepare this quite well. And Michele (the ex-husband), who had dressed the sandwich with oil pressed from olives from his own orchards in Puglia, gave it a good go. But it turns out that perfect execution of this sandwich takes a little more thought.

For Gabrielle you see, the success of the sandwich relies on a delicate balance, “the perfection of three fats together — butter, olive oil, and the white fat from prosciutto or lardo,” and Michele’s sandwich, which needed a “smear of cool, waxy, butter,” as well as more meat, fell short.

As I spread each half of my ciabatta roll with butter, I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Was the butter the right temperature? It certainly wasn’t cool and waxy. And it was likely too soft. If Gabrielle were watching, would she already declare my workings a failure? Questioning every step of the assembly, I continued on, layering prosciutto over the butter, following it with arugula and a drizzling of olive oil, using a heavier hand than normal, for whatever reason suspecting “more is more” with this particular preparation.

While I can’t say that my palate would have discerned the trinity of fats working in concert to produce the perfection Gabrielle describes, I can appreciate the beauty of this sandwich and how such simple ingredients, each subtle in flavor, can work together in a synergistic fashion. Without any fancy pesto or creamy aioli or spicy mustard, the combination here is utterly delicious, and the first half of my sandwich disappeared quickly. But before I could declare my lunch a complete triumph, I returned to the fridge one last time. Despite my heavy hand, the sandwich needed more meat.

After a night in the fridge, the balls look like this:

The balls can be stretched into the classic “slipper” shape or into whatever shape you like best. I like rectangles:

Three Fats Sandwich

Notes: A recipe for making a sandwich is hardly necessary, but just in case, instructions are included below. Also, while this sandwich (as noted in the post) relies on a delicate ratio of fats, the quality of ingredients makes a difference, too. If you use good bread (homemade or from a good bakery), good butter (I didn’t use anything special, but something like Kerrygold, which you can find at the grocery store would be a good option), good prosciutto (such as imported prosciutto di Parma or a good domestic variety — try to sample a few at a deli counter), a nice spicy arugula, and a good olive oil (I happened to have a bottle from the Temecula Olive Oil Company), chances are your sandwich is going to be pretty damn good. After one bite you’ll know if you’ve struck the balance correctly, and you can adapt accordingly.

good bread (see ciabatta roll recipe below)
butter, slightly softened
prosciutto, thinly sliced
arugula
olive oil, good olive oil if you have some on hand

1. If you are using rolls, split them in half. Spread each half with butter. Don’t be shy. Top one half with a few slices (more than you think you will need) of prosciutto. Top the prosciutto with a handful of arugula. Drizzle both halves of the sandwich with olive oil. Close the sandwich and eat.

Faux Ciabatta

Yield = 12 rolls

A few notes on ciabatta:

• Originating from the Lake Como region of northern Italy, ciabatta means “slipper” in Italian, and traditional ciabatta is characterized by this slipper shape as well as an extremely porous and chewy texture.

• Traditionally, ciabatta dough is very wet, calls for very little yeast, and requires a long, slow rise.

• Traditional recipes, too, often call for making a biga (a preferment), which helps produce that light, porous texture.

A few notes on this recipe: The dough for these rolls is simply the peasant bread dough made with roughly 1.5 cups of semolina flour and roughly 2.5 cups of all-purpose flour. The recipe yields 12 rolls, which is a lot to store in the fridge without doing some rearranging, which I am sure many of you are accustomed to doing, but which I know can be a hassle, too. I have made these ciabatta rolls twice now and both times have baked off six on the first day and six on the second day. Storing 6 rolls in the fridge on a small sheetpan is easier than storing a dozen on a larger pan. The change in texture of the rolls when baked on day 2 is dramatically different than when baked on day 1, but the rolls are still delicious on day 1 (just not as light and airy — not as much like ciabatta). If you have the space and if time permits, then by all means store all of the shaped rolls in the fridge overnight, but if you don’t, know that you can bake them on the first day you make them, too.

about 3 cups (scant cups) (13 oz) all-purpose flour* (do not use bleached all-purpose)
about 1 cup (a heaping cup) (5 oz) semolina flour plus more for dusting
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 cups lukewarm water**
2 teaspoons sugar
2 teaspoons active-dry yeast***

* The 13 oz. of ap flour and the 5 oz of semolina flour is accurate — the total weight should be 1 lb. 2 oz, as it is in the peasant bread. If you are using dry measuring cups, the ratio might be a little off, but don’t worry too much — it’s a forgiving mixture.

** To make fool-proof lukewarm water that will not kill the yeast (water that’s too hot can kill yeast), boil some water — I use my teapot. Then, mix 1 1/2 cups cold water with 1/2 cup boiling water. This ratio of hot to cold water will be the perfect temperature for the yeast.

***I buy Red Star yeast in bulk (2lbs.) from Amazon. I store it in my freezer, and it lasts forever. If you are using the packets of yeast (the kind that come in the 3-fold packets), just go ahead and use a whole packet — I think it’s 2.25 teaspoons. I have made the bread with active dry and rapid rise and instant yeast, and all varieties work. If you are interested in buying yeast in bulk, here you go: Red Star Baking Yeast Also, if you buy instant yeast, there is no need to do the proofing step — you can add the yeast directly to the flour — but the proofing step does just give you the assurance that your yeast is active. King Arthur Flour sells SAF instant yeast.

1. In a large mixing bowl whisk the flour and the salt. Set aside. Grease a separate large bowl with butter or olive oil and set this aside. (This is optional actually — I just let the bread rise in the same bowl that I mix it in.)

2. In a small mixing bowl, dissolve the sugar into the water. Sprinkle the yeast over top. There is no reason to stir it up. Let it stand for about 10 to 15 minutes or until the mixture is foamy and/or bubbling just a bit — this step is just to ensure that the yeast is active. (See photos on peasant bread post for more guidance.) Now, gently stir it up, and add to the flour bowl. Stir this mixture up with a spatula or wooden spoon. Mixture will be wet. Scrape this mixture into prepared greased bowl from step 1. (Or, if you’re feeling lazy, just cover this bowl with plastic wrap or a tea towel.)

3. Cover bowl with a tea towel or plastic wrap and set aside in a warm spot to rise for at least an hour. (If you have the time to let it rise for 1.5 to 2 hours, do so — this will help the second rise go more quickly.) To create a warm spot: Preheat the oven at a low setting (200ºF or so) for a total of one minute (in other words, do not allow the oven to get up to 200ºF and then heat at 200ºF for 1 minute — this will be too hot), then shut it off.

4. Preheat the oven to 425ºF. Using two forks, punch down your dough, scraping it from the sides of the bowl, which it will be clinging to. As you scrape it down try to turn the dough up onto itself if that makes sense. You want to loosen the dough entirely from the sides of the bowl. Sprinkle a work surface generously with semolina flour. Sprinkle some more flour into the bowl with the dough. Turn the dough out onto the work surface and sprinkle with more semolina flour if it appears to be sticking anywhere. Using a sharp knife or a bench scraper, coating as needed with semolina flour, divide the dough into twelve roughly equal pieces. (This is what I do: divide the dough in half first; then divide each half in half; then divide each of these quarters into thirds.)

5. Roll each portion of dough into a ball. If you are storing all of the balls of dough in the fridge overnight, place them on a parchment-lined baking sheet spacing them out evenly so that there is space around each ball if possible. Sprinkle each with semolina flour, then cover the pan with plastic wrap and store in the fridge. If you are planning to bake off some of the rolls immediately, let the balls rest on the work surface for 10 minutes. Meanwhile, line a baking pan with parchment paper. After the 10 minutes, gently lift up one of the balls and stretch it into a square or the more classic elongated “slipper” shape and gently lay it on your prepared baking sheet. Repeat with five more (or fewer) of the balls — six is a good number to bake off at one time. Let the rolls rise on the baking sheet for an additional 20 minutes then place them in the oven for 15 minutes on the lower or middle rack. Take a peak. If they are looking too golden after the 15 minutes, reduce the temperature to 375ºF. Bake for an additional 5 minutes or so. To check for doneness, peak under one of the loaves — it should look slightly browned and should sound hollow when tapped. Remove pan from oven and let rolls cool on cooling rack for 15 minutes or so before using.

6. When you are ready to bake off the rolls that have rested overnight, sprinkle the balls lightly with more semolina flour, carefully lift each ball from the sheet pan, gently stretch each into the desired shape, and lay each shape on a parchment-lined baking sheet — try as best you can to not completely deflate the balls during this process. Let rolls rise for about 30 minutes — they won’t look significantly risen or puffy after the 30 minutes. Bake as directed in step 5.

My pantry is cluttered with odd ingredients, a reflection of impulse purchases made after seeing recipes for “ultimately authentic” dishes I feel I have to make immediately. As I often don’t make these dishes immediately, I end up collecting tubs of tamarind concentrate and palm sugar (purchased for pad thai) and shrimp paste (for satay sauce) and fermented black beans (for mapo tofu).

Often these ingredients sit untouched for months (years), or they get dipped into, stashed in the fridge, forgotten, and ultimately unnecessarily re-purchased when I see that next completely authentic recipe I have to make immediately. It’s a vicious cycle.

A few unseasonably hot days last week had me craving chilled soba noodles with dashi, a favorite summer meal I first tried at Morimoto, where they make it with green tea soba noodles — SO good. After scouring my pantry and finding myself making the usual note to self — purchase bonito flakes and kombu promptly — I paused. Certainly I could make something that could satisfy this same chilled soba craving without going down my usual pantry-cluttering path.

I remembered a peanut dressing I used to make ages ago from The New Moosewood Cookbook made entirely with ordinary ingredients — peanut butter, cider (or other) vinegar, fresh lime or lemon juice, garlic, crushed red pepper flakes, etc. Without a smidgeon of fermented beans or a flake of dried seafood, this mixture is spicy, sweet, salty, and sour hitting all the sensations that make whatever it’s dressing so irresistible. I’ve added sesame oil and Sriracha to the mix, which I, and many of you I believe, would hardly categorize as odd at this point.

While the dressing is thin and light — it’s made with a cup of water to 6 tablespoons of peanut butter — and, in the book at least, intended for a “Thai” green salad, I love it drizzled over cool soba noodles. For the past five days I have used the dressing on some sort of soba noodle salad every night, using carrots, shredded cabbage, leftover roast chicken, and crisped tofu in various combinations, but this is my favorite: sliced cucumbers, scallions and peanuts. There’s something about its simplicity that I love, the noodles and julienned cucumbers melding together, the only crunch provided by a handful of peanuts. Of course, this salad can be tailored to your liking and additions such as carrots and bean sprouts and chicken offer substance, making it a one-bowl meal that takes minutes to prepare and tastes both satisfying and refreshing especially when the temperatures start dipping into the upper 80′s and 90′s.

This Virginia spring has come on strong, sparking the onset of diminished motivation in the kitchen much earlier than usual. I haven’t turned the oven on in three days. I need to toughen up. It’s going to be a long summer.

Soba Noodles with Cucumbers, Scallions & Peanut Dressing

Note: This salad can be scaled up or down depending on how many people you are serving, so adjust quantities as needed.

soba noodles, dried or fresh

cucumbers
scallions
peanuts, roasted and unsalted

Peanut Dressing (recipe below)

hot sauce of choice, Sriracha or Sambal Oelek are nice options

1. Bring a pot of water to a boil. Add soba to water and turn heat down so that the water is gently simmering — soba is a little more delicate than pasta and you don’t want the water rapidly boiling if you can help it. Boil 4 minutes (for dried) and about a minute (for fresh), drain and rinse under cold water using your hand to disperse the water evenly over the noodles — again, the noodles are delicate.

2. Let the noodles dry in a colander, and if need be, gently pat them dry with some paper towels. Meanwhile, julienne the cucumbers on a mandoline or slice them into slivers with a knife. Chop scallions thinly on the bias (if you wish). Coarsely chop the peanuts. Place noodles, cucumbers, scallions and peanuts in large bowl. Pour dressing over top. Don’t be afraid to pour it on — it’s light light! (as my grandmother would say). Serve with more Sriracha or Sambal on the side.

Dressing adapted from Mollie Katzen’s The New Moosewood Cookbook
Yield = 1.5 cups

Notes: the first time you make this dressing it will likely taste a little flat. I find it hard to get the seasoning right because of the warm temperature of the mixture and often make adjustments the following day or after it has cooled in the fridge. I never find the 2 teaspoons of lime juice to be enough and almost always add the juice of a whole lime depending on its size. The dressing will feel really thin — too thin — but it works. I add the sesame oil for both flavor and body, but this is not in the original recipe, so feel free to leave it out if you don’t like that flavor. And I add a hefty dose of Sriracha, not only for heat but for flavor — it provides a nice bite in addition to heat. I like to make the dressing a day in advance to allow the flavors to meld and to let it cool down, but you can always stick it in the freezer to let it cool down faster. Alternatively, you can make the dressing in the food processor using cold water.

6 tablespoons good (or not) peanut butter
1 cup boiling water
4 tablespoons cider vinegar
1 tablespoon sugar or honey (I use sugar)
1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt (I use 1 1/2)
3 to 4 cloves garlic, minced
crushed red pepper flakes or cayenne, to taste
2 teaspoons lemon or lime (or more)
1 tablespoon sesame oil (optional)
Sriracha to taste

1. Place the peanut butter in a bowl and whisk in the hot water until blended. Stir in the remaining ingredients. Adjust seasoning as necessary with more lime juice, salt, Sriracha, sesame oil, etc. As noted above, sometimes it’s easier to make adjustments after the dressing has cooled down.

Last week, a series of brilliant ideas led to a series of kitchen mishaps. Not only did I waste some food along the way, I also unjustly (perhaps) lashed out at my three-year old. For this, I feel it my duty to warn you about what could happen should these same brilliant ideas enter your brain, too.

So, upon deciding that it’s finally time to try your hand at making ricotta gnudi, you might decide you want to make the ricotta from scratch, because you can’t help but think homemade gnudi would be all the more delectable if you were to start with homemade ricotta.

You might even decide, once you make your ricotta, to save that whey — waste not want not! — and to make a couple of loaves of homemade bread with it, because you know that making bread is no big deal, it is adored by all, and it is so nice to have on hand.

In the meantime, you might breeze through the gnudi-assembly process pleasantly surprised to discover there’s not much to it — a little mixing, piping, snipping, and flour dusting. You might even photograph the process and with each snap of the shutter get a little more excited to share this project with a few of your friends. But you know, too, you must be patient, because gnudi require some pampering: three-days in the fridge with a quick flip every day to make sure they are nicely coated in that semolina flour.

You might anxiously await day three’s arrival. You might read and reread the instructions before you lower those precious ricotta pillows into that simmering water. And even though you believe you’ve followed the instructions to a T — with the exception of making the ricotta — your gnudi might dissolve in your boiling water and if not there first, afterwards in your sauté pan. And even though you were smart and only cooked off a dozen or so, you might still feel a little crushed — you might wonder: was it the ricotta? — and decide to wait to cook any more until the next day, you know, so you can cool off a bit, get your bearings, regain your composure.

In the meantime, you might munch on that scrumptious bread you made using whey. As you assemble some knockout peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for any tots you see cruising around, yours or otherwise, you might feel pretty awesome about not having wasted one drop of that ricotta-making by-product.

And then you might get another brilliant idea: the next day you’ll use some of that bread to make French toast for your family. Better still, you’ll make baked French toast which you can assemble the night before and bake off in the morning. You might feel on top of the world when your family rouses to the smell of cinnamon and sugar and the sight of a 9×13-inch pan filled with golden slices of homemade bread and a jug of Vermont maple syrup sitting on the table.

But then, one of your children might say something along the lines of, “I don’t like this,” before she’s even taken a bite. At which point, steam might come shooting out of your ears and nose, and with blood pouring into your face, you might leap across the table with a bite of French toast in your fork and threaten that child with no food, fun, stories or songs for the rest of her life if she doesn’t immediately eat the bite resting one milimeter from her mouth.

You might suddenly realize that a lot of things are weighing on you, namely a batch of uncooperative gnudi. You might think that perhaps you are being a little rough on the little being sitting across from you and that perhaps you should take a breather and just enjoy your French toast — so what if that child continues to pout and to play with her food and to make no signs of ever putting it in her mouth?

You might decide to find solace, as you often do, in a cookbook, perhaps one that might help you solve your gnudi-making woes. You remember seeing a chapter of gnudi recipes in your Italian Easy London River Cafe cookbook, and your spirits might lift immediately because surely Rose and Ruth will offer guidance. And then you might just get totally distracted as you always do when you open that book especially when you arrive at the fruit and ice cream chapter.

And just as you begin to cool off and relax a bit, you might open the window to find that spring — everything is in bloom! — has arrived. You might even feel a bit of humidity in the air, and at once nothing might sound more delicious than a sorbet made with only four ingredients — water, sugar, lemon and mascarpone — the recipe for which is staring you in the face.

And then, instead of spending your few moments of peace cooking off the last few gnudis you have saved, you might decide to make mascarpone sorbet instead, because it takes only five minutes to prepare and 20 minutes to churn, which means something cool and creamy will be in your near future.

And you might for a second entertain the idea of making the mascarpone from scratch, because you know how and you can’t help but think homemade mascarpone will make homemade mascarpone sorbet all the more delicious. But you don’t. Because you’ve learned your lesson. And when that lemony, perfectly sweet, creamy-textured sorbet amasses in your ice cream maker, you’re so happy you didn’t, because you’ve never tasted something so refreshing and so delicious for such little effort.

And as all of your gnudi-making woes melt away with that last spoonful from your first bowl of mascarpone sorbet, you might just resolve to think a little more carefully the next time a brilliant idea pops into your head.

4 ingredients: 1 lemon, 1 cup sugar, 1 1/2 cups mascarpone, 1 1/2 cups water:

The hardest part of the recipe:

Mascarpone Sorbet

Source: Italian Easy: Recipes from the London River Cafe

Note: After the sorbet is churned, it of course can be eaten right away, but I think the texture is better if it hardens up in the freezer for at least an hour. Also, in case you feel like making this for company, the texture of the sorbet is best the day it is made. It is still delicious on subsequent days but benefits from sitting at room temperature for a few minutes before serving. Update 4-11-2013: I moved my storage container from my free-standing deep freezer to my main freezer (attached to the fridge) and the texture is perfect. So perhaps the deep freezer is just a little too much for the sorbet.

1 cup superfine sugar (I did not use superfine)
1 1/2 cups water
1 lemon, juiced to yield about 3 tablespoons
1 1/2 cups mascarpone

1. Whisk sugar and water together to form a thick syrup — it’s ok if you feel some sugar granules undissolved. It’s also ok if the syrup isn’t thick — mine wasn’t. Add the lemon juice and whisk. In a large bowl, whisk the mascarpone to lighten. Add the water, sugar, lemon mixture and whisk until smooth. Churn in an ice cream machine according to the manufacturer’s instructions — I always do about 20 minutes. (Alternatively, freeze in a shallow container stirring three times, every 30 minutes or so — haven’t tried this method.) Freeze until ready to serve.

A few weeks ago I discovered that for all the years I have been cooking quinoa I have been doing it wrong. The quinoa I have made, as a result, while edible and receptive to countless seasonings and additions, has never kept my attention for very long — after the odd week-long-quinoa binge, I’d forget about it for months.

But after posting the radish entry a few weeks ago, I received a comment from a dear old friend who managed several of the Philadelphia farmers’ markets while I lived there. Joanna pointed me to a Yotam Ottolenghi recipe for a quinoa salad with radishes, fava beans, avocado and a lemon vinaigrette she had recently made for some friends to rave reviews.

A quick google search led me to the recipe. While the ingredient list had me foaming at the mouth, it was the first few lines of the instructions that really struck me: Place the quinoa in a saucepan filled with plenty of boiling water and simmer for 9 minutes. Drain in a fine sieve, rinse under cold water and leave to dry.

PLENTY of boiling water. Simmer for NINE minutes. RINSE under cold water. Is this news to you, too? Why has every package of quinoa instructed me to cook it as if it were rice — 1 part grain to 2 parts water — in a covered pot? And to cook it for at least 15 minutes but often for as long as 20? And after the cooking process, to let it rest off the heat under its steaming lid for an additional 5 to 10 minutes?

Until last week, I didn’t know that when quinoa is cooked pasta-style, it doesn’t turn to mush but remains crunchy and nutty, becoming more than just a vessel for transporting other flavors. Even in a salad surrounded by toasted walnuts, spring onions, slivered radishes, and steamed edamame, it offers texture and flavor of its own. A simple dressing of olive oil and freshly squeezed lemon juice with just a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes works best, both complementing quinoa’s flavors while not oversaturating its delicate texture. And while I adore avocados and cheese of all kinds, I love a quinoa salad that is crunchy throughout. In the upcoming months, cucumbers, cherry tomatoes, and diced bell peppers will nicely replace the spring onions and edamame used here, and this fall, pomegranate seeds and green olives — with perhaps some flavors from another favorite salad — will be welcomed replacements as well.

My 10-day quinoa binge is going strong. It’s looking promising, my friends — quinoa, I believe, is here to stay.

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A few more notes on quinoa and Fair Trade quinoa:

• Some say to rinse before cooking; others don’t. I rinse. Unless you like to toast your quinoa before you cook it (see below) there’s no reason not to rinse it, and rinsing quinoa removes a bitter coating that can affect the flavor of the cooked quinoa.

• Some say to toast quinoa before cooking; others don’t. If you toast quinoa, you don’t want to rinse it first — it will stick to your pan. I’ve toasted quinoa a few times and haven’t noticed a huge difference in flavor, so I skip toasting, mostly out of laziness, but feel free to give it a try.

• Quinoa is actually an edible seed related to beets, spinach and tumbleweeds and has been in cultivation for over 4,000 years. It is high in protein, fiber, calcium and several other minerals.

• There has been some discussion in the news about the increase in worldwide demand for quinoa causing harm to quinoa producers. Most recently, a journalist from The Guardian wrote “that poorer people in Peru and Bolivia, for whom [quinoa] was once a nourishing staple food, can no longer afford to eat it.” Statements such as these not only confuse consumers but also can do more harm to quinoa producers than good. I recommend reading this Slate article, It’s OK to Eat Quinoa, if you find yourself confused as well and would like to learn more about this complicated issue. For me, there is no question that organizations such as Fair Trade and companies such as Alter Eco are striving to improve the quality of life of their quinoa producers. You can read more about the efforts and changes Alter Eco has made and continues to make to improve the lives of their partners here.

Final note: The people at Fair Trade sent me a package of Alter Eco quinoa as part of their efforts to promote the Fair Trade product. You can read more about the controversy surrounding quinoa production and how purchasing Fair Trade quinoa can make a difference on the Fair Trade blog. I have since been able to purchase Alter Eco quinoa at my local Wegmans.

Quinoa Salad with Toasted Walnuts, Spring Onions, Edamame & Radish

Inspired by a salad from Yotam Ottolenghi’s Plenty

Note: The original recipe calls for fava beans, garlic, purple radish cress, cumin, and avocado. All of these sound like wonderful additions/flavors, so feel free to improvise with herbs you have on hand — basil, parsley, mint, chives, etc — and other fruits/veggies/nuts, etc. As I noted above, as much as I adore avocados, I like my additions to quinoa salads to be on the crunchy side, which is why I have chosen the ingredients below, but again, feel free to add what you like — I don’t know of anyone who wouldn’t welcome a few slices of avocado in the mix.

Finally, an essential piece of equipment for cooking quinoa is a fine-meshed sieve. You need this piece of gear for both rinsing the quinoa before you cook it, and for draining the quinoa after you cook it.

1 cup quinoa(I really like the Alter Eco varieties, especially the rainbow)
1 cup frozen edamame (or fresh fava beans if you can find them)
1 cup walnuts, toasted*, and chopped
1 small red onion, minced to yield 1/4 to 1/2 cup
4 to 5 scallions or spring onions, rinsed, trimmed and finely sliced**
8 to 10 radishes
kosher salt and pepper to taste
crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
1 to 2 lemons
1/3 cup extra-virgin olive oil

* Toast walnuts at 350ºF for 8 to 10 minutes — watch closely to prevent burning. Place the toasted walnuts in a tea towel and rub together to remove papery skin. Transfer walnuts to a sieve and shake again to remove any additional skin. I know this is fussy, but it makes a difference. I have more detailed instructions here.

** I used the white and light green parts, but feel free to use as much of the dark green as you like — mine were looking a little tired at the top, so I trimmed them.

1. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Meanwhile, place quinoa in a fine-meshed sieve and rinse under cold water. When the water comes to a boil, add the quinoa and simmer for 9 minutes. Drain in a fine-meshed sieve and run under cold water until cool. Set aside to dry.

2. Meanwhile, cook the edamame. This is what I did this time, but feel free to use your own method: Bring a tea kettle of water to a boil. Place edamame in a bowl. Cover with boiling water. Let stand for 2 to 3 minutes. Drain. Rinse under cold water until cool. Set aside.

3. Meanwhile, slice up your radishes: If you have a mandoline, carefully slice each radish into thin disks. Note: if you keep the stem intact, you have a little handle to grab onto while you run the radishes down the mandoline’s plane — find a more detailed visual explanation here. Alternatively, thinly slice the radishes with a knife. Stack the circles on top of each other and slice straight down to get mini matchsticks.

4. Place the drained and dried quinoa into a large mixing bowl. Season all over with salt and pepper to taste. Crush some red pepper flakes over top if you are using. Add the edamame, walnuts, red onion, scallions, radishes, olive oil and the juice of one lemon to the bowl. Toss and taste. Adjust seasoning as necessary. I added the juice of another lemon, but my lemons were on the small side. I also added more crushed red pepper flakes — I think a bit of heat is really nice in this salad.

Quinoa and Carrot Muffins

I read about these muffins on my friend Darcy’s blog almost a year ago now. I have since made them several times — they are SO good — and I prefer to make them with white quinoa versus red or rainbow. Made with whole wheat flour, almond flour, Greek yogurt, grated carrots and walnuts, these muffins are on the healthy side, too, and don’t let that scare you — they are moist and flavorful, perfectly sweet, and just plain delicious.

Find the recipe at The Garden of Eden — Darcy offers some great tips and notes on variations she has tried.

On Easter Sunday 2003, my sister made Nigella Lawson’s Easter Egg Nest cake, a cake that had been featured in The New York Times the Wednesday prior. Studded with flecked pastel eggs, this cake could only suit my sister better if a flock of Peeps and a colony of white chocolate bunnies were nestled among the eggs.

I’m not sure anyone in the family including my sister has made the cake since, but upon finding an old photo of Lindsey presenting her creation at the dinner table, I felt I had to make it. At the very least, I knew it would look festive on the table, the kids would find it enchanting, and my few guests would welcome a sliver of anything chocolaty.

Dense with a mousse-like texture, this cake is definitely for chocolate lovers — intense chocolate lovers. If you have made the torta caprese and are into making comparison charts, this cake has the same amount of chocolate and the same number of eggs for half the amount of butter (one sticks versus two) and no almonds or almond flour (two cups of ground almonds go into the the torta caprese).

For me, this cake is festive and fun more than anything. It puffs way up when it bakes and sinks when it cools, a crackly meringue-like layer forming a perfect base to house dozens of colorful candy eggs. If you love a rich chocolate cake, this one’s for you, but my preference in the flourless chocolate cake genre is still the torta caprese.

Have a wonderful holiday and weekend, Everyone. I’ll leave you with my favorite holiday reminder: If you’re making a ham, don’t forget the ham sauce! Seriously, so good.

Easter 2003: My sister presenting her Easter Egg Nest Cake with Mr. Ford, one of her favorite high school teachers and a close family friend:

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A Few More Ideas for Easter:
Note: images link to recipes

Easiest Rack of Lamb; Pan-Seared Lamb Chops; Lamb Burgers; Lamb Meatballs; Spanakopita Strudels (or a whole Spanakopita); Tiropitas

For A Brunch: Tartine’s Quiche; Crustless Quiche; Baked French Toast; Asparagus Croque Monsieur; Currant Scones; Prosciutto & Gruyere Croissants; Cheese Danishes; Buttermilk Blueberry Breakfast Cake; Cinnamon Rolls

Breads: Loaf of Peasant Bread; Mini Loaves; Cheddar Biscuits

Salads: Baked Goat Cheese with Spring Greens; Greens & Toasted Bread Crumbs; Arugula & Orange

Desserts: Torta Caprese (Flourless Chocolate-Almond Torte); Almond Torte; Orange & Olive Oil Cake; Jean Georges Nearly Flourless Chocolate Torte; Lemon Bars; Rosemary Shortbread

Making the Easter Egg Nest Cake:

Flourless Chocolate Cake | Nigella Lawson’s Easter Egg Nest Cake

Source: Nigella Lawson’s Feast

Notes: If you would like to follow the original recipe, find it here. I’ve made a few changes: bittersweet chocolate has replaced semisweet; salt has been added as have a couple of tablespoons of booze; instead of using 2 whole eggs and 4 separated eggs, I’ve used 6 separated eggs; and I’ve omitted the frosting. As I’ve noted above, this cake is intensely chocolaty — I prefer the torta caprese — and I think it really needs a dollop of lightly sweetened (or not) whipped cream or something like a crème anglaise, if you are up for it. A glass of milk does the job nicely, too.

8 tablespoons unsalted butter
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate*, melted
6 large eggs, separated
1/2 cup plus 1/3 cup superfine sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract (I omitted because I added the booze)
1/2 teaspoon nice sea salt (such as Maldon) or kosher salt
1-2 tablespoons Grand Marnier or Cointreau (optional)

powdered sugar for garnish
mini malted eggs or cadbury cream eggs or whatever you like

*I used Ghiradelhi 60%.

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees. Line the bottom of a 9-inch springform cake pan with parchment paper. Place oven rack in center of oven.

2. In a bowl over simmering water or in the top of a double boiler or in the microwave (I used the microwave), melt the choclate and butter together. Set aside.

3. Meanwhile, beat the egg yolks in a large bowl with an electric mixer until lemon-colored, about 5 minutes. Gradually beat in the 1/2 cup of sugar. Add the chocolate mixture, stirring to mix well. Add the vanilla (if using), the salt, and the booze, if using, and stir to combine.

4. In a separate bowl, beak egg whites until foamy. Gradually add the remaining sugar and whisk until whites hold their shape but are not too stiff.

5. Pour egg yolk-sugar mixture into chocolate-butter mixture, stirring to combine. Add the vanilla (if using) and salt and booze to this mixture and stir to combine.

6. In three additions, fold whites into chocolate mixture. Note: For the first addition, I am not too gentle: just stir a nice amount of the whites into the chocolate mixture to lighten it up. With the remaining additions of whites, try to fold them in more gently. Pour into prepared pan and bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until cake rises, cracks and center is no longer wobbly.

7. Cool cake on a wire rack; middle will sink and the sides will crack. Carefully remove cake from pan and place it on serving plate.

8. Garnish as you wish: with powdered sugar or with the whipped cream frosting (as suggested in the original recipe) and with mini eggs, if you like this sort of thing.

Last summer, my sister and I escaped to NYC for 36 hours. We packed in a show, some good shopping, and a lot of good eating including breakfast at Eataly and dinner at Momofuku. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned this getaway before — sorry, I don’t get out much — but after discovering that Danish pastry dough can be made in the food processor and, as a result, that cheese danishes can be whipped up in just a few hours, I found myself dreaming about other danish-like pastries, croissants in particular, ones brimming with prosciutto à la Eataly specifically.

Now, the breakfast pastries we ate at Eataly were served at room temperature and filled with slices of meat sandwich-style. And while they were delicious, I was craving something more like the pain au jambon I had read about in the Tartine cookbook, in which smoked ham and cheese are rolled and baked with the dough. So, guided by Tartine, I layered thin slices of prosciutto and batons of gruyère over my faux croissant dough, and before too long, a half dozen crackly golden pastries emerged from my oven, cheese oozing from the ridges, salty meat entwined with each flaky layer.

Since I just posted about the cheese danishes, I’ll keep this brief, but I’m still in awe of this dough. Without any labor-intensive butter-laminating process, this pastry dough bakes into a puff of feather-light layer upon feather-light layer. It’s astonishing. Perhaps more astonishing, however, is how the finished croissants — how so many good croissants — feel and taste about as light as rice cakes, as if very little butter went into their creation at all. How do they do that? What a sham.

In any case, the possibilities with this dough seem endless — croissants aux amandes, pain au chocolat, morning buns, plain croissants perhaps made for the sole purpose of making croissant bread pudding or French toast the following day? If you are preparing for a brunch, perhaps an Easter brunch this Sunday, know that the rolled croissants can be prepared a day in advance — I stored two in the fridge for about 18 hours, and after a three-hour rise the following morning, they baked off beautifully. As with the cheese danishes, they reheat incredibly well on subsequent mornings, and when halved and toasted and filled with a fried egg, they make just about the best breakfast sandwich you could ever imagine.

This video is not particularly interesting — it’s completely tedious in fact — but I had a couple of comments/questions regarding the rolling out process and how to do it without adding too much flour. I hope this video offers some guidance:

Prosciutto & Gruyère Croissants

Pastry Dough Source: Nigella Lawson’s How to Be a Domestic Goddess
Yield = 16 croissants (if you use all of the dough — I used half and made 8)

Notes: If you want to make cheese danishes, view this post. A note of caution: these croissants are definitely on the salty side. If you are wary of salt, perhaps pick a smoked ham that is on the less salty side — not sure if this sort of thing even exists. Finally, day-old pastries reheat quite nicely at 350F for 10 minutes or so.

processor danish pastry:

1/4 cup (60 ml) warm water
1/2 cup (125 ml) milk at room temperature
1 large egg at room temperature
2 1/4 cups (10 1/8 oz | 286g) all-purpose flour*
1 package (2.25 tsp. | 1/4 oz | 7g) rapid rise yeast or 1 tablespoon fresh yeast**
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 tablespoon (1 oz. | 25g) sugar
1 cup (8 oz | 250g) unsalted butter, cold, cut into thin slices

* Nigella uses white bread flour
** I used instant (rapid-rise) yeast this time but with the cheese danishes I used active dry yeast and let it stand with the milk and water for about 10 minutes until it was a little foamy (see notes in recipe).

pain au jambon:

8 to 16 thin slices prosciutto di Parma or smoked ham (depending on how many croissants you are making)
Gruyère or similar cheese, about 1/2 oz per croissant (I used 4 oz. total), cut into matchstick-sized pieces

egg wash:

1 egg beaten with 2 tablespoons of milk

Note: You will have a lot of leftover glaze if you are only making 8 pastries, but if you are prompt about putting it back in the fridge, you can save it until you get around to making the remaining 8 pastries.

make the pastry:

1. If you are using rapid-rise yeast or fresh yeast and have planned ahead such that you know you will be refrigerating the dough over night: Pour the water and milk into a measuring cup and add the egg, beating with a fork to mix. Set aside. If you need to speed up your dough-making process or want to make sure your yeast is alive and well: Sprinkle yeast over the warm water and milk with a little bit of the sugar (I took 1/2 teaspoon from the 1 tablespoon) and let stand until the mixture starts to foam a little bit. Then, beat egg with a fork until broken up and add to milk-yeast mixture. Beat mixture with fork again until just combined. Set aside.

2. Place a large bowl near your food processor. Then put the flour, yeast (if you haven’t mixed it with the milk), salt and sugar in the processor, and give it one quick whizz just to mix. Add the cold slices of butter and process briefly so that the butter is cut up a little. You still want visible chunks of butter about least 1/2 inch in size — about 10 to 15 short pulses.

3. Empty the contents of the food processor into the large bowl, then add in the milk-egg mixture. Use your hands or a rubber spatula to mix the ingredients together, but don’t overdo it: expect to have a gooey mess with some butter lumps pebbling it. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap, put in the refrigerator, and leave overnight or up to 4 days. (Note: If you have “bloomed” your yeast as noted in step 1, you can get away with two hours in the fridge at this step.)

4. To turn the dough into pastry, take it (or half of it — I find it easier to work with half the amount of dough at this step) out of the refrigerator, let it get to room temperature (or don’t if you are pressed for time) and roll the dough out into a 20-inch square. (Note: Don’t worry too much about inches here — just try to roll the dough out into a large square that is relatively thin. Also, you will need to lightly dust your work surface with flour and add more flour as needed to your rolling pin and board.) Fold the dough square into thirds, like a business letter, turning it afterward so that the closed fold is on your left, like the spine of a book. Roll the dough out again into a large square (mine always looks more like a rectangle), repeating the steps above 3 times.

5. Wrap the dough in plastic wrap, and put it in the refrigerator for 30 minutes (you can keep it in the refrigerator for up to 4 days, if you haven’t already done so at the earlier stage), or refrigerate half to use now and put the other half in the freezer to use later. Note: If you are pressed for time, skip this 30 minute chill time.

roll the croissants:

1. Roll the dough out again into a large square or rectangle. Cut the dough in half lengthwise and crosswise. Then cut each each of the four pieces created in half diagonally. (See pictures for guidance.)

2. Lay a piece of prosciutto or smoked ham over two-thirds (or more) of each triangle, leaving the pointed tip uncovered. Scatter the batons of Gruyère over top. Starting with the wide base of each triangle, carefully roll up each croissant, encasing the ham and cheese as you go.

3. Place the rolled croissants on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper and brush with the egg wash. Leave them to rise until they double in size, about 1 1/2 hours; they should then feel like marshmallow. Note: With both the cheese danishes and these croissants, it never looks as though the pastries have doubled nor does the texture of the dough feel as fluffy marshmallow. I just stick them in the oven after 1.5 hours regardless of how they look.

4. Meanwhile, about 30 minutes before they’re ready to be cooked, preheat the oven to 350°F. Place in the oven and bake for 15 to 20 minutes or until puffy and golden brown.

These are the two rolled croissants I stashed in the fridge overnight. The following morning, after letting them rise for 3 hours…

…they baked off beautifully. This is nice to know if you want to shape the croissants the night before you plan on serving them.

Toasted, halved, and topped with a fried egg. Yum.

On Wednesday we welcomed spring, the arrival of a new season’s CSA, and the first of many many many many many radishes. Can you sense my enthusiasm?

Look, I love radishes — honest, I do — and I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I do have mixed feelings about the quantity I consume as a CSA subscriber. I’ve mentioned this before, so I won’t dwell, but I just find it challenging to work radishes into meals in substantial ways, in ways that make me feel I am getting more than just a yummy snack. Yes, I love eating radishes on buttered bread or simply halved and dipped in salt. Served with some canned fish and a few cheeses, I can call these preparations dinner and feel the radishes have played a significant role in the meal.

But wouldn’t it be nice if radishes could pull a little more weight at the dinner hour? As I was unloading my CSA last week, I remembered a salad — an edamame and radish salad — we used to make at Fork for Fork:etc, (the prepared food, sandwich, salad, on-the-go part of the restaurant). During the lunch hour, this salad flew out of the case. High in protein, light, colorful, satisfying — what’s not to love?

Now, back then, edamame comprised the bulk of the salad while the slivered radishes and diced red onion mostly offered a little bite and color. In this variation, the radishes and edamame are in nearly equal proportion by volume, but the increased proportion of radish doesn’t dominate in any way — the salad is just as if not more so delicious. And the dressing is simple: equal parts olive oil and vinegar and a good sprinkling of salt — both the radishes and the edamame can handle it. It’s a cinch to throw together.

When fresh peas and favas start arriving at the market, you can keep that edamame in the freezer. But this time of year, as a supplement and complement to radishes, edamame are hard to beat.

Happy spring everyone. Any ideas regarding radish employment are most welcome.

A few things to remember when dealing with radishes:

1. If you trim the greens from the stem right away, the radishes will keep longer.

2. Try to eat the radishes within a few days of receiving them — they shrivel up in the fridge quickly. A few ideas: this salad (edamame can be replaced with peas or favas when they start appearing); sliced in half and served with nice salt; thinly sliced and served with good bread, butter and salt; thinly sliced and served with good bread, butter, salt, and anchovies; halved, tossed with olive oil, seasoned with salt, and roasted at 450ºF until tender, 10 to 15 minutes.

3. If you have to store radishes in the fridge for a few days, use an airtight container or ziplock bag for both the greens and the bulbs themselves.

4. Sauté the greens (see recipe below) on their own or save them and sauté them with other greens you might have on hand — beet greens, chard, watercress, etc.

Just a final note: I have finally changed the layout of the blog so that it is responsive, meaning that (and sorry if I am stating the obvious) if you are viewing the blog on your phone or tablet, the layout will adjust to the size of the screen. The sidebar might shift to the bottom below all of the posts, but the text should be bigger and easier to read, and overall things should just look better. I hope they do. I am still making some changes — trying to get the site mostly back to how it looked before. At the moment, the search box is over to the right in the sidebar, and if I can add it up to the top (where it was before), I will do so.

(For any of you bloggers using WordPress who are looking to do the same, I chose a theme from themify and was very happy with the technical support they provided both in how quickly they responded to questions and in the guidance they offered.)

This simple salad is made with sliced radishes, freezer-burnt edamame and red onion:

Snip the greens to preserve both the radish bulbs and greens longer:

If you leave the stem intact, you have a nice little handle to grab onto while you run your radishes down the plane of the mandoline:

Now for the greens: First, be sure to soak them in cold water for a few minutes so that the dirt falls to the bottom of the bowl.

Then let them drain — no need to spin them dry if they are going to be sautéed:

Toast some bread crumbs if you feel like sprucing up your sautéed greens:

Remove crumbs and set aside; wipe out the pan and place it over high heat; when it’s nice and hot, add some olive oil and immediately following, the greens; season with a pinch of salt; toss with tongs and remove from heat — radish greens wilt and shrink very quickly; add a splash of vinegar and toss; stir in bread crumbs if you wish and serve immediately:

Of course, you can always just stick to this classic preparation:

It’s seriously so good.

And if you’re feeling adventurous, you can ease up on the salt and top your tartines with a few anchovies — I read about this preparation in Chez Panisse Vegetables and couldn’t resist trying:

Edamame and Radish Salad
Serves 2 to 3

1 cup frozen edamame
1 small red onion or shallot (about 1/4 cup minced)
2 tablespoons vinegar — I like white balsamic
kosher salt
pinch sugar
8 to 10 radishes, rinsed, tail trimmed, stem left intact
2 tablespoons olive oil

1. Place a pot of water on to boil. When it boils, add the edamame and cook for about 2 minutes — most bags call for a 5-minute blanching, but I think shorter is better. Drain and run under cold water. Set aside.

2. Meanwhile, finely dice your onion or shallot — you can use as much or as little as you like (sometimes I add more like a half cup) — and place in a small bowl with the vinegar a pinch of salt and a pinch of sugar (no more than 1/8 teaspoon). Set aside to macerate for about 15 minutes.

3. If you have a mandoline, carefully slice up each radish. As noted above, if you keep the stem in tact, you have a little handle to grab onto while you run the radishes down the mandoline’s plane. Alternatively, thinly slice the radishes with a knife. Stack the circles on top of each other and slice straight down to get mini matchsticks.

4. Just before serving, toss the edamame with the radishes and onions. Add two tablespoons of olive oil. Toss to coat. Taste. Don’t be afraid to go a little heavy on the salt — both the edamame and the radishes can handle it. Note: If you are preparing this for a luncheon or some event, tossing at the last minute helps preserve the color of the edamame as well as the integrity of the radishes — after too much time in the dressing, the radishes wilt and the edamame gets a little pale. It still tastes great, but it might not look as appetizing.

Sautéed Greens with Bread Crumbs

Note: Use this recipe as a guide. The quantity of bread crumbs, olive oil, and seasonings will vary depending on the quantity of greens and what type of greens you are using.

homemade bread crumbs

for a more in depth recipe, click on the link above, otherwise follow this simple guide:

Heat about 1.5 tablespoons of olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat; sprinkle in about a cup of bread crumbs; season with a pinch of salt; stir until golden; remove from heat until ready to use.

olive oil
greens (chard, watercress, radish, beet, mustard, kale, etc), any thick stems removed
kosher salt
minced garlic (optional — I don’t use it for radish greens)
crushed red pepper flakes (optional)
splash of vinegar

1. Place greens in a large bowl filled with cold water. Let them soak for a few minutes so that the dirt falls to the bottom of the bowl. Place in a colander to drain. Shake gently to remove excess water, but there is no need to spin them dry.

2. Heat a large skillet over high heat. Drizzle in some olive oil — again, quantity will vary depending on quantity of greens. When it starts skidding, add the greens. Season with a pinch of salt. Add minced garlic if you are using and a pinch of crushed red pepper flakes if you are using.

3. Using tongs, begin flipping greens around so they wilt evenly. This should happen very quickly if you are using tender greens such as radish, watercress, spinach, etc. Add a splash of vinegar and remove from the heat.

4. Sprinkle in bread crumbs to taste, toss, and serve immediately.

Incidentally, I recently purchased this salt cellar from Crate and Barrel for $9.95 and couldn’t be happier with it. I have been using it for my Maldon sea salt. I think a box of sea salt paired with this salt cellar would make a lovely gift:

Señor Pescado is delighted to have some company: