Mak and Murph Unite

Kelsey and I were reunited at last over the holidays. And what a wonderful time it was! Every Christmas since my family moved to Victoria, we have visited Kelsey's family in Seattle on our way home from visiting my dad's parents in Portland. This year was a repeat of many shared holiday eats between our two families that started in Chicago when our parents got hitched, met each other and became friends.

We went to Boom Noodle, located in the ever funky neighborhood of Capitol Hill, and ate memorable dishes such as edamame puree with sweet potato crisps, ahi tacos, and okonomiyaki (pork pancakes). We drank sake and tons of green tea while we talked, laughed and planned dinner for the next night. Although Kelsey missed out on this outing, the rest of us (our two families) really enjoyed it. Leaving the restaurant I announced, I'm going to move to Seattle! However, I say this about many places.

Katherine, me and Kelsey

The next morning we ate breakfast at Lola, one of our favourite restaurants in Seattle, owned by the infamous Tommy Douglas, the creator of the incredible Triple Coconut Cream Pie. Breakfast was, however, a light affair. After too much excessive holiday eating I only wanted granola with greek yogurt and fruit, and Kelsey, victim to similar excess, had a bran muffin (her favourite). Other members of the parade had delicacies such as lacinto kale scrambles and Greek omlettes. After lots of tea and coffee, we left the restaurant with a bounce in our step, ready to hit Pike Street Market and shop for dinner.


Well, to be honest, the dads and Katherine shopped for dinner. Sal (my mom) and Kathleen (Kelsey's mom) shopped for lamps, while Kelsey and I went to the Finnish store and had more coffee and tea with a cookie at Le Panier; we had a lot to catch up on you see.

The day progressed beautifully. After the market, some people went to the museum, others went home to bake cakes and take naps, and Kelsey and I went over the the University district to poke around in used record stores and second hand clothing shops. I found a pair of red high heels. Kelsey found a colourful knit dress. We had more tea. Then we went home to cook.


'Twas a seafood feast to remember!

Dungeness crab, deep fried razor clams and oysters on the half shell, complete with bread from Le Panier, butter and a salad. Katherine's cake followed.



This is a Dungeness crab before dad broke it in-half over a step-ladder, removed the lungs and guts, rinced it off and dumped it into a huge pot of boiling salty water for 10 minutes.


Kelsey learned how to shuck an oyster.


I used John's deep-fryer to deep-fry these razor clams. (For breading, Panko bread crumbs work the best.) They were succulent.


That's a big crab. Man! 100 reasons why living in the West is best.



The salad was delicious. My mom is the best lettuce-washer and dressing-maker around. Kelsey garnished it with oranges, pomegranate seeds, pistachios and feta cheese.


Katherine made a butter sponge cake with apricot glaze and toasted almonds on top.


A light, fluffy end to a protein-rich, buttery feast. Thank you Maki's for hoasting the party! I can't wait until next time.

The Dads: Eric and John

NY, NY

These are long over due, but a nice reminder of good times in '09. (Too early to be nostalgic? Not for meals like this).

1, 2 & 3: First supper out at Nick's. Fabulous mixed green salad with candied fig (I think). Followed by truly superior pizza, and completed with the finest cannoli I've ever eaten.

4, 5, & 6: The River Cafe - a true dining experience. The view was foggy, but that was made up for by the lunch service which featured more waiters than diners. Tuna Tartar that changed my life, Branzino Fillet of Mediterranean Sea Bass, completed with chocolate sticky pudding and pistachio ice cream sandwich. Devine splurge - looking forward to another visit someday.

7&8: The Rowley/Maki Thanksgiving feast! Perfectly timed and truly exquisite. Featured turkey breast, candied yams, mashed potatoes, Brussels sprouts with red wine vinegar and pistachio nuts, pickled beets with mint, rolls, gravy, stuffing, and Rowley Family Famous Cranberry Sauce. And yes, all that was for two. Followed by pumpkin pie with fresh whipped cream. A perfect day.

9: One of two french toast breakfasts I ate consecutively. This one was at Jane. Both were exactly crunchy and soft enough - and served with something sweet - orange slice or banana/pecan topping. For some reason, french toast was on the brain. Also Blinis.

Enjoy the drool fest...

Apple Pie and Cowgirls

When I was home at Christmas, Katherine and I decided we needed to live in the same city: left to our own devices, we are much too serious. Both very driven, intense individuals, we can lose ourselves in various projects, only to lift our heads up and say, hmmmm, it's Saturday and I haven't seen a soul for days! I am the more extroverted of the two, wearing my emotions proudly on my sleeve, always seeking center stage, while Katherine is more reserved, working quickly and quietly backstage until, before you know it, she's made 100 jars of jam, 10 pies and 50 jars of pickles. She's unstoppable. Without her, a career on center stage would be a joke and a dream; her take-it-as-it-comes approach to life reassures me. She's always reaching up and pulling me back to earth. Together on the ground we run fast, but evenly.


We spent the entire holiday in the kitchen. We left of course from time to time to brush our teeth and go to sleep, to tie up our shoes and go somewhere, or to put our feet up and read a book, but most of the time we hung out in the kitchen. Even when we weren't cooking we were in there sitting at the island, eating sandwiches or bowls of berries and ice cream. I was often standing on a chair reading aloud from Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins, or playing my guitar and singing, pretending I was at Woodstock, or announcing my latest philosophical epiphany. Other pet activities included: listening to Fleetwood Mac at full volume and dancing around with vigor, doing push ups and sit ups (because that's our idea of fun), or reading cookbooks and calling out promising recipes.


More specifically, and more pertinent to the picture above, (although we did a lot of cowgirl-like activities and didn't get the blues), we made apple pie, twice. For a while, whenever I would think of home it was about eating cinnamon buns and drinking coffee with Katherine at a local bakery. Now I think about eating apple pie and doing the twist to Fleetwood Mac on a rainy holiday afternoon. In my opinion, there are few things better than an apple pie, especially one eaten in the company of terrific, well-loved, and highly thought of individuals. I have an incling, however, that if I was eating some alone right now, that'd be fine too.

So let's talk about pie. What's a good pie? First of all, there's the pastry. Most people don't make their own crust because it sends them into a fit of worry. This is unfortunate, but I've been there and I understand. You have to learn how the dough will feel in your hands when it's the right consistency. You have to master a few key techniques. You have to confidently try different recipes until you find one that works for you. This takes time and courage. And remember, someone will always say: the best pastry I ever tried was at the Christmas party last year. Betty Sue gave me the recipe, but I just can't make it like she does! Hogwash. Let's all stop comparing ourselves to everyone else.


Once you have spent hours and days and weeks and months and years perfecting the art of pastry making, perhaps you will have found a favourite filling you particularly like. In the meantime, refer to the Joy of Cooking; it won't let you down, promise. Runny filling is unsatisfying and unpleasant, so use some sort of thickener, like flour, tapioca, or cornstarch. Good quality fruit, nuts, syrups and sugars will make all the difference in the world, so use them.

The pastry recipe I'm going to share with you is inspired from my dear friend Max's mother, Lee. I have previously posted the original recipe here. Since then, my dad has made some modifications and Katherine has worked on polishing them. Before Christmas, I made several pie crusts with lackluster results. Katherine also felt as if something was missing from her pastry. We tackled our separate problems as a team. Both times, I made the dough, while Katherine tossed together a filling. When the dough was chilled she rolled out the crust. Both times, the pie was unreal. Together we are unstoppable.

Apple Pie

1 9-inch double-crust pie

à la jude & co.

I highly recommend using white spelt flour here if you can find it. There was a difference in texture between white pastry flour and the white spelt. Katherine said it was the easiest dough she'd ever handled. Why this is, I'm not sure, but that's a good enough reason for me.

The original recipe is for two double crust pies. We cut the liquid in half and reduced the flour to 3 cups.

Use room temperature butter for this recipe. You should be able to press your finger into the butter so that it just gives way and leaves a soft imprint.

In a bowl:

3 C white spelt flour (or white pastry flour)
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt (add 1 tsp if you're using unsalted butter)
1 1/2 C room temperature butter

- Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt.
- Cut in the butter until the butter is well dispersed in the four. If you leave big chunks of butter, the dough will be difficult to roll out once it's chilled.

In a liquid measure:

1 egg
1 TBS apple cider vinegar
1 TBS brown sugar

- Mix these first three ingredients together.
- Add cold water until it reaches the 1/2 C line.

- Slowly add the liquid to the dry ingredients, using a fork to mix the dough together with a light flicking motion.
- Once the dough has come together in big globs, stop mixing and turn the dough out onto a floured surface and gather it together in one pile. Starting from the end furthest from you, smear the dough away from you using the heel of your hand to fully incorporate the butter into the flour. You should smear the dough about six times.
- Separate the dough into two flat discs, wrap them in plastic wrap and refrigerate for two hours.

To Roll Out The Dough

- On a floured surface, start to roll out the dough by gently turning the dough clockwise after each stroke of the rolling pin.
- Once the dough is about 1/8 inch thick and large enough to fit into the pie pan, gently roll the dough around the rolling pin and lay the dough into the pan. You can also use the four corner fold method. This involves folding the circle in half, and then folding that half in half to make a quarter. You then put the point of the quarter in the center of the pie pan and unfold it.
- Roll out the top the same way.
- Once the filling is in, lay the top over the pie, trim off any excess, fold the overhang under and crimp the edges.

* For good detailed information and photos about dough, rolling out dough, and crimping visit these pages at thesmittenkitchen.com.

Filling

5-6 C sliced cooking apples
1/2 - 3/4 C brown or white sugar
1 TBS lemon juice
1 - 1/2 TBS cornstarch
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp nutmeg

* only very tart apples require the larger amount of sugar
* only very juicy apples require the larger amount of cornstarch

Optional: if serving the pie with cheese omit the lemon juice and add fennel or anise seed

- Preheat the oven to 350 F.
- Mix above ingredients together in a bowl and pour into pie shell.
- Cover with the top pastry and crimp the edges.
- Cut some slits in the top to let the steam escape.
- Brush with egg and milk; sprinkle with sugar.

- Bake for 45 minutes or until the top is brown and the filling bubbling. If you notice the top burning after 20-30 minutes, you may have to turn down your oven temperature to slow down the cooking.
- I like using glass pyrex pie dishes because you can see how the crust is doing on the bottom.

- Give your sister a high five, or yourself a pat on the back, get out some vanilla ice-cream or cheddar cheese and tuck in!




Yeah lady!



And if any of you devoted readers have any questions or need more information, I am always a keyboard away.

Getting it out There or Why it Takes me so long to Shop for Groceries

I try to stick to food for this blog – but today I’ve been really struck with a few items that while not directly related to food, do have a union with that topic, and are worthy of spouting off a bit about. Nor am I normally so vulnerable here, but I believe I need to be. It is good therapy for me. And perhaps also for you.

Today I am haunted by my own consumption. Judes and I joked a little over the holidays about how I believe that our consumer culture is the root of all evil (and, well, I do). But nonetheless it is our culture – so how do we live in this culture and keep a clear conscience? I’m not sure that we can.

I spent $50 a Wal-Mart today. I went in because it was convenient and I wanted to buy a mixer for less than $10, and Target was out. I hate shopping at Wal-Mart. Nickel & Dimed just flashes before me at every turn. I was both appalled and secretly thrilled to find things there so cheap. Two frozen rising crust pizzas for $8? Normally that would cost $10-$12. And they carry things with the appropriate key words: natural, organic. I can never decide if I am actually making the prudent choice or just being deceived.

I did end up buying organic milk and butter (something I NEVER do because of the cost differential) partly because I felt guilt for being in Wal-Mart period, and partly because I just watched Fresh. I mentioned this film in a previous post, but it really is sticking with me. I’ve known about the horrors of the meat and food industry in this country, but this film sort of solidified them for me. In particular the scene of baby chicks being dumped on the ground out of plastic bins – they make a terrible squawk, as well as the description an industrial turned natural farmer gave of a wound he received from one of his own pigs. The injury proved UNTREATABLE because of the amount of antibiotics pumped into his animals. Thinking about the schlock that makes its way into my food, before I even begin to work with it, horrifies me. Matt and I cannot afford to buy all our meat and food product as “organic” and “free-range” or “natural.” But I sure do want to. Not so much even from an environmental or political standpoint (all though those are important to) but more from a health standpoint. If am going to eat fats and meats and what not – I would like them to be doing something for my body other than making my summer pants too small. And not eating meat isn’t really an option at this point (although I considered it) because I cook for and eat with a Texan – to whom vegetarianism might as well be asceticism.

Another stroke of guilt that rolls through me when shopping (and not just at Wal-Mart) is that of indulgence. Unfortunately attending private college gave me a taste for expensive things – DAMN those wealthy roommates. For example, expensive candles really do smell better. So I will periodically indulge in one of these items, today it was nail polish, which really wasn’t that much of an indulgence given it was Revlon, but anyway – I spent about $8 on nail polish and as I was driving home was panged with the thought of how far that $8 could go in Haiti right now. HOW DO WE MANAGE THIS PEOPLE? Is it wrong to buy nail polish when we I could be making a donation to support Haitians? I rather think so, and yet, I rationalize the purchase as an attempt to better enact my femininity, which I regularly suck at. That is lame too. Not as lame (lame is not the appropriate word here but bear with me as I attempt some parallelism) as the horrific situation in Haiti, but lame.

At least the drive home was stunning. The wind is blowing snow around today, so the trees our delicately outlined. The sky is white – so the limbs appear delicate, black and tender. My trip home from Wal-Mart involves a long downward stretch lined densely with trees, and in concert with the sky today, they moved me to tears. Granted, it may have been the stress of deciding between nail polish and Haiti, or organic milk for $3.50 vs. standard antibioticized milk for $1.50 that built me up to that point, but the trees put me over the edge. And although my father will cringe to read this, I was so thankful for the opportunity to send all of these thoughts – the fear and guilt over Haiti, the concern over our food stuffs, and the awe for natural beauty – to God. I don’t feel like here is the place to justify or discuss my religious standing as I am kind of trying to wrap this all up nicely, but I will gladly go into more detail later (for a quick overview of my feelings perhaps watch a little Studio 60? I sort of rest somewhere in the middle of that argument). But today it was nice to put faith in the idea of a plan – that somebody, or something, some where’s got all our backs. Whether we are painting our toes or navigating rubble, I praise God for the peace and opportunity to put it all up to him and mindfully get on with our day.

Back At It

A few notes on the new year of eating:

• While I was home in December Matt would call me and say, "I am eating Salmon with an asparagus sauce," to which I would below "WHY DON'T YOU COOK LIKE THAT FOR ME?" or "SINCE WHEN ARE WE ALLOWED TO BUY SALMON?" He's used to this kind of extremity, so he was un-phased. Upon returning home I found our fridge fully stocked with produce, including lettuce. For those of you who are not avid readers, produce is something of an anomaly in our house hold because it is expensive. After viewing a fridge full of foliage, I spun on my heal to give Matt my nastiest-how-could-you-do-this-while-I-am-away face. Again, un-phased. Shortly there after I opened my Christmas gift from Matt: a copy of Jaime Oliver's Ministry of Food. I am of course pleased, but Matt goes on to explain that the meals he cooked over break were out of this book and practice, because this year he is committing to cooking dinner once a week. For those of you that may miss the point, let me spell it out for you: A-W-E-S-O-M-E.
• None of my pants fit due to much eating while home and the neccessity to where layers in the negative Minnesota temperatures.
• In the past week I've successfully made cinnamon rolls with cream cheese icing, pita bread, pulled pork, mashed potatoes, tzaziki, stir fry, and lentil soup. A GOOD START INDEED.
• Everyone should know how to make pulled pork. It requires nothing but good pork. I recently watched Fresh, which makes me grateful that I have the Thompson's to buy meat from. Please see below for pulled pork recipe. Trust me, this is so good it needs no sauce.
• I love beginning a stew or sauce or soup because that initial sauté of celery, onion, carrot and what have you is rich with promise. That might sound tacky, but I believe it. From that simple start so much can develop, so it is exhilarating, always to begin.
  

Pulled Pork
What Ya' Need:
4lb bone in free range, natural pork shoulder or butt (should have a really nice bit of fat on it)
1 medium onion

What Ya' Do:
Preheat oven to 300. In a dutch oven or other, deep oven proof pan, place pork shoulder/butt in pan, fat side UP (you want all that lovely flavor to dribble down past all the meat). Quarter onion and break up over pork. Fill pan with one inch deep of water. Cover and place in oven. Cook for at least 3 hours, or until meet is falling away from bone. You pretty much can't over cook this. I will cook it all day sometimes if I am around.

When you are ready to eat, remove dutch oven, use forks to pull pork from the bones and away from residual fat. Eat as is or serve in sandwiches, with beans, on salads, etc.

Do NOT be concerned with the fats. If you do use a good, natural cut of pork that fat is PACKED with fats that your body really does need. Granted I am not recomending you eat pulled pork every night, BUT once and awhile is something that will serve you well in the long run.

Happy New Year!

The Victoria Backyard in Winter

Hello all, I've missed you, but I had to take a break. The following little "essay" is something I just finished for my Writing Techniques class. I couldn't resist posting it, and since it's not for marks, there was very little pressure. Please! Feel free to comment on my writing. Apparently translators have to write REALLY well. Who would've thought? So these next few months are going to be dedicated to improving my writing. I'd especially like your help with pointing out any unclear recipe directions. And, I have to write a How To article at the end of the semester. Since food is a likely candidate for a topic, are there any delicious, rather complicated recipes you'd like me to tackle?

Here she is:

Why I keep moving to Montreal

I have moved to Montreal three times over the last five years. The first time for my first year of university at McGill, and then for a second time because I fell in love with a Quebecois one-summer tree planting. After both of these short sejours, neither longer than 8 months, I returned home to Victoria, B.C, where I finished my undergraduate degree in French studies. In January 2009, I came back to Montreal for a third time to study translation, and to establish myself in a place I can call home.

I find transition extremely difficult. Filled with uncertainty and worry, it takes an enormous amount of effort, especially when moving from place to place. Whenever I phone my family, usually rather panicked, during these times of change, my mom always tells me: “Well, you do like to know how things are going to turn out.” I do, but life is full of change, and you have to find a way to get comfortable when the earth trembles underneath and you slip a bit between the cracks. In my family, food is our middle ground. Cooking and eating together keeps us in check, even during the most difficult of times. Each time I’ve left home during these glorious early years of my twenties, I have scrambled to find the same ritual and comfort in the food I cook, or the people I share it with. However, it wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be.

Cafeteria food was traumatizing. Now when I look back on my first year in Montreal living in residence, I can’t help but smile. But how I scoffed and scorned at the gummy lumps of pasta, cried over wilted salad, hung my head at the over-cooked broccoli, held my stomach and prayed it would stop aching between meals, hoarded the grocery stores for the foods I ate at home; I was searching for a common ground in this vibrant, windy city. I tried making muffins like dad did at home, but between mixing them in a sauce pan on top of my apartment fridge and carrying them around residence to and from the oven, it seemed like a lot of work for the tiny, hard, porous pucks I produced. For Thanksgiving, I shamelessly bought piecrust and pumpkin filling, added eggs and baked the thing. I brought the pie to a dinner I was invited to. Shocked by how much people loved it, I realized for the first time that it’s about sharing food as much as it is about the quality. A plain ole’ hot dog can go a long way when shared under the right circumstances. I was learning that if you cook, they’d come.

I tried this same approach when I moved in with Jean Simon after only three months of living together in the bush. I thought he was the one; it was a risk, and I took it. But I was so in love, it was hard to admit early on that it wasn’t working. He was starting his masters and had little time; I had too much time, working 15 hours a week at Petits Gateaux, a cupcake store on Mont Royal. To remedy the lack of communication and growing distance between us, I cooked good meals for us to eat together. This gave me enormous sense of purpose. He’d come home from school and lean over me at the stove. “Qu’est-ce que tu fais?” He’d ask. “I’m cooking up those moose steaks your parents gave us. There’s sweet potatoes in the oven and rice on the stove,” I’d reply. “Est-ce que tu vas faire une sauce pour la viande? As-tu la mariné? Ma mère fait ça.” I’d grit my teeth and mumble no, but maybe next time. Maybe I wasn’t cooking what he wanted to eat, but nothing seemed ever good enough. However, it was the bread that finally broke me. After Jean Simon left for school, I’d eat breakfast and then start to make bread. At home, I’d successfully made pizza dough, foccacia, sandwich bread, etc., but I couldn’t make it work in Montreal. The crumb was always too loose, or the bread undercooked, or the top burned. One day I opened the oven to see the bottom element sparking like a Halloween sparkler. The top of my bread was black. A burning smell filled the kitchen with a cloud of smoke. I took it out of the oven, unmolded it, and started crying over the uncooked (yet burned!) mass steaming steadily on the counter. Shortly after that, and several emotional phone calls home, I got on a plane.

When I arrived in the middle of January 2009, one year after leaving Jean Simon, the wind was howling, it was – 30 C, and I was very unsure of what I would do. I had a couple of classes to finish by distance at the University of Victoria, but I had no job lined up and a lot of time before my translation program started in the spring at McGill. However, I moved in with one of my best friends, Libby. She was in school full time, and I became, very naturally, the in-house chef. Another one of our friends was living with us, and I cooked time-consuming vegetarian casseroles for weekly sustenance from the Moosewood Cookbook. I made baked fish with an avocado, red pepper sauce, and rich, moist chocolate cake served with dark coffee rum; I made Stollen, a German holiday bread for Easter, peanut butter cookies for late night movies and more pancakes and muffins than the three of us could eat. When Libby left for Toronto in April, I was on my own. I’d already started to write a food blog and spent most of my free time thinking about what to make, how I’d photograph it and where I could find ingredients. My obsession with food fueled me through a time when I was scraping to build a foundation for myself. I had finally come back to Montreal with the right intentions: to discover what I had to give, and how I wanted to give it.

Returning home from the Christmas holidays this year was hard. The future of my career is uncertain, the length of my stay in Montreal is uncertain, finding a potential partner is uncertain. I left the warmth of my family, and the damp, rainy West coast, to arrive in a city blanketed by snow, again. But leaving Victoria has always been a way to meet the harsh beauty of life’s uncertainties that is softened and less obvious at home. Uncertainty is like sitting on a prickly cactus, and I will always be learning how to navigate the murky waters of ambiguity. I like to think cooking helps teach me this. Because, no matter how good our recipe is, we measure wrong, or we don’t read the directions, and we have to pull ourselves up out of the mess. Botched meals can usually be salvaged, even enjoyed in the right company, or you can just have omelets; they’re always delicious, anywhere you are.

Mak & Murph Together at Last

Commence countdown as the Mak and Murph families in total will be dining, dashing, and devouring excellent grub together in just over a week. Fabulous lives people and it is on its way.

Dissapointment.

As I am sure you have noticed, faithful readers, I have been MIA. This is due to some fabulous traveling (and eating) that has occurred in the past few weeks. Expect a photo montage soon.

However, tonight I am home, back to the grind and on my own, so I decide to try for some homemade cream of broccoli soup as I am fresh off of In Defense of Food which encourages "mostly plants," and having lovingly par-boiled and frozen some vendor surplus broccoli this summer. I pull out the trusty How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman and set to work.

DISASTER. My soup is thin, tasteless (unless you count that awful overcooked broccoli taste as something worthy of note), and even worse - there is TONS OF IT. Currently I have nasty broccoli puree in three containers and one pot and am at a loss as to whether I should freeze it and at a later date try to resurrect the mess, or if I should just wash my hands of it and toss it.

Also, please note I blame only myself. Too much stock - too much broccoli, not enough starch. Mark Bittman, you're still my go to guy, your French bread and peanut butter pasta sustain me (don't tell Michael Pollan, he'll tell me to eat more vegetables.)

Anyhow, it looks as if I will be hitting the dishes with little spring in my step. At least I have Nutella to look froward too.

The Humble Loaf

Female food bloggers seem to be obsessed with banana bread. Molly Wizenberg of Orangette has more than four recipes on her blog, and then another woman at Obsessed With Baking (where I found the recipe) has run various tests on various recipes, complete with commentary and photos revealing the differences between using melted butter and unmelted. What is it about this humble loaf that keeps us coming back time and time again for more?

I don't want to go into a gender related discourse about why women seem to be jumping up and down slightly higher than the men are in celebration of this little delicacy, because I know men who make fantastic banana bread, cake, muffins and more (ie. My Dad!), but this is the observation I made while scouring the Internet for the Silver Palate Banana Bread recipe. Truth is, banana bread is extremely versatile. She can serve as a light dessert, when enriched with butter and sugar; she can dress down to a hearty whole wheat for breakfast or a snack; she can elegantly wear chocolate chips, nuts, coconut, and candied ginger, to name a few, or a thick coat of cream cheese frosting when she wants to get fancy.

I really love banana bread, just ask Fabienne, my tree-planting accomplice of four years. I loved this bread before going tree-planting, but after her loyal accompaniment (that of Fab's and the bread's) through all those years of slogging through mud and up and down hills, the bond is bound. Not to mention the fact that Fab had to witness and listen to my countless updates on how the banana bread was, or how much I'd eaten, or how much I just wanted a slice. In the morning I'd wake up groaning, sore, cold, uncomfortable, but would faithfully get dressed, pull on my boots, and walk to the mess tent where a delicious loaf of banana bread, a cup of coffee and Fab, full of life and stories, were waiting for me. Not a bad life I'd say. In fact, it's those mornings I miss the most.


This morning, I woke up to find the first snow dusting across the city. I kinda squealed with fright and excitement: I'm going to have to shovel my steps for the first time in my life! Oh Montreal, you and your seasons; I love you so much for it. But the real excitement came at breakfast. Last night I baked, for the second time this week, the perfect loaf of banana bread. Toasted, buttered, paired with fluffy scrambled eggs and a mug of tea, she's the perfect morning companion for reading the paper, or the new cookbook Ros gave me The Best International Recipe Cookbook, which is real winner by the way and a great introduction to cooking from around the world.

So without further ado, here she is:

Banana Bread

as adapted from the Silver Palate

I reduced the amount of butter to 1/4 c and the sugar to 1/2 C. I also added 1/2 C of coconut, and this time, 1/2 C of chocolate chips. She has a moist, tight crumb, and enough sweetness to satisfy; a nice mix between a hearty loaf and a cakey one. This means that I can eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner and only feel a little off after the 6th slice. Not bad if you ask me. It's very easy to make, without needing lots of special ingredients.

1/4 C butter (room temperature or melted)
1/2 C sugar
2 eggs
3 large ripe bananas
1 tsp vanilla
1 C whole wheat flour
1 C white flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 C unsweetened coconut
1/2 C chocolate chips or walnuts

- Preheat the oven to 350 F.
- Grease a 9X5X3 loaf pan.
- If using room temperature butter, cream together with sugar. If using melted butter, mix together with sugar.
- Add eggs and vanilla.
- Mash up the bananas in a separate bowl using a fork or a potato masher and add to butter and sugar mixture.
- In a separate bowl whisk together all the dry ingredients except the chocolate chips.
- Add the dry ingredients to the wet gradually, stirring the batter as you add the flour.
- Before the dough is completely blended, add the chocolate chips. This way you'll avoid over mixing the dough.
- When the dough has just come together, it's alright if some streaks of flour are still present, pour the batter into the loaf pan.
- The baking time may vary. I have a really thick, dark, non-stick loaf pan that cooks the loaf quite a bit faster than a regular aluminum one would. So my loaf takes about 45 minutes. However, the suggested baking time is for 1 hour. To avoid over or under cooking, check the loaf after 40 minutes. Push lightly on the top and if it springs back quickly under your finger there's a good chance she's almost done. Test further by inserting a clean sharp knife into the center. It should come out clean. Other indications of doneness are, a well-browned top and when the sides of the loaf start to come away from the sides of the pan.

- Don't forget, this recipe could easily be used for muffins. I imagine it'd make from 6-8 muffins made in regular sized muffin tins. But don't forget to reduce the cooking time to about 25 minutes, same temperature.

- murph

Triple Coconut Cream Pie

Tommy Douglas has changed my life. He's changed my sister's life and my parents' lives too. Our knowing he exists, like many culinary related things, is thanks to the Maki family. Without them, I'm not sure my family's legacy of good eats would be so strong. I forget the context, but one wintry evening, John (Kelsey's Dad) pulled out Tommy D's cookbook, The Seattle Kitchen, and gave it to us as a present. Since, we've made countless recipes from the book and bought his other one called Tom's Big Dinners. I can only recall one semi-failure when my Dad made baked trout with apple rings; the trout wasn't very good, so dinner wasn't very good, and Dad was kinda sad. But it really wasn't his fault, plus, success and deliciousness wouldn't be so good if they happened all the time.

Katherine and I have this phenomenal on-going dream where we move to Seattle, live in a tiny over-priced apartment near Pike Street Market looking out onto the harbour. We'd work in one of Tommy D's six restaurants, side by side, getting yelled at by the chef, furiously peeling potatoes, washing dishes with suds up to our ears, and stagger home very late at night, only to get up in the morning, groggily drink copious amounts of thick black Seattle coffee, get some exercise and do it all over again. It'd be amazing and probably very sweaty, dirty and frustrating. At least we'd have each other. Because you see, the other on-going dream is to open a restaurant, and we're going to need some training at some point about what this whole thing is about. We'll get there.

One of the first desserts I remember my sister making many years ago when she was probably 13 or 14, is the Triple Coconut Cream Pie. Her comments next to the recipe in the cookbook read: a bit rich... She wasn't exaggerating. A best-seller twelve years in a row at the restaurant (as of when the cookbook was written in 2001), there's coconut in the crust, in the pastry cream and on the top; not a pie for the weak-minded. After eating Katherine's pie, I rolled out of my chair onto the floor holding my stomach, groaning first of course with pleasure and then from the serious dairy overload. But I survived to tell the tale and ate it again last winter when the Makis and the Murphys went to Lola for an epic feast. (More stomach holding and groaning insued. Oh my phenomenal tendency to over eat!) Then finally, I rubbed my hands together, pulled up my socks, dressed to impress and made the pie. Ros and Ben were coming for dinner, and I wanted to impress. He didn't let me down; Tommy D never fails to impress. And despite the fact that pastry crust mystifies me every time, it turned out quite delicious, producing terrific comments from Ben's side of the table: pas real! oh, this is pas real!


Triple Coconut Cream Pie

As adapted from Tommy Douglas' Seattle Kitchen

I am not going to give you the 411 on Pastry Making. Despite all my reading about the mysterious, necessary procedures, I still don't really know what I'm doing. I have already given one recipe here for Max's mother's recipe, and it's really terrific, almost fool-proof, but since, my dad has modified it and I've lost track of which recipe I'm making. So I followed Tommy D's directions exactly, and well, the crust was fine. I knew it could have been more tender, but I have horrifically high expectations and we can't have everything.

This is definitely a time consuming recipe, so save it for those moments when everything else has gone totally wrong and you need some serious respite from this crazy demanding world, or when some super-excellent friends are going to grace you with their presence and you want to impress the hell out of them, ie., Ros and Ben. Thank you guys for being so incredibly wonderful! So here you go Ros, you can make pastry too, promise.

Coconut Pie Shell

You pre-bake the shell before filling it with the pastry cream.

1 C plus 2 TBS all-purpose flour
1/2 C unsweetened, shredded coconut
1/2 C (1 stick) cold, unsalted butter
2 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp kosher salt, or sea salt
1/3 C ice water, or more as needed

- Combine the dry ingredients in a bowl.
- Using a pastry blender, cut in the butter until pea-sized.
- Add the ice water gradually, flicking the dough with a fork so you don't over mix. This dough is on the drier side, so don't add too much water, but you still need to add enough just until it looks like it'll barely hold together (I needed about a TBS more). All this caused me great doubt, and much worrying, but with faith I persevered. Gather the dough into a ball (it will be crumbly), place it onto some Seran Wrap and form it into a disk. Completely cover it and refrigerate for at least an hour. It can be made the night before.

- When you're ready to bake the pie, get out a 9-inch pie dish.
- Roll out the dough on a floured surface, turning the dough clockwise after ever roll so you form an even round disk, until it's about 1/8 inch thick. (If it seems like it's not going to work, just exercise some serious patience and be gentle.)
- Transfer the dough by rolling it around the rolling pin and laying it very gently into the pie dish. Help the dough to reach the bottom by lifting it up at the edges and pressing it into the dish with your fingers. Try not to stretch it.
- Trim the outside edges so you have about an inch hanging over. Tuck the excess dough under itself and crimp the edges.
- Freeze the shell again for one hour. This is supposed to help prevent shrinkage in the oven. I think it helped, but who knows.
- After an hour, preheat the oven to 400 F.
- Place a sheet of aluminum foil inside the shell. Fill it with dried beans and bake the shell for 20-25 minutes.
- Take the pie shell out of the oven, remove the beans and cook for 10 minutes more, or until the bottom begins to brown.
- Let it cool before adding the filling.


The Coconut Pastry Cream

This will need a couple of hours to cool down.

2 C milk
2 C unsweetened coconut
1 vanilla bean, split in half lengthwise
2 large eggs
1/2 C plus 2 TBS sugar
3 TBS all-purpose flour
1/4 (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, softned

- Combine the milk and coconut in a medium saucepan.
- Split the vanilla bean lengthwise and scrape the seeds from it. Add the seeds and the whole pod to the pot.
- Bring to an ALMOST boil on med-high. STIR FREQUENTLY. Otherwise, your milk is going to burn. Another way to do this is in a double boiler.
- Meanwhile, in another bowl, mix together the eggs, sugar and flour. When the milk is hot enough, add about 1/3 C to the egg mixture to warm them up. You don't want the eggs to curdle when you add them to the milk and coconut mixture.
- Add the warmed egg to the milk and whisk until the pastry cream starts to thicken. It should be hot enough so that when you stop stirring, it will kinda blurp and bubble. But it's very important to stir, otherwise it'll burn. This'll take about 5-7 minutes.
- When it's very thick, take it off the heat, remove the vanilla bean and stir in the butter. Place the pastry cream into a bowl over another bowl of cold water to cool it down. I made it the night before, so I just left it on the counter and stirred it around a couple of times before putting it into the fridge.

NOTE: Before you refrigerate the pastry cream, place some Seran Wrap directly onto the surface. This will prevent a film from forming.

- When the pie shell and the pastry cream have cooled, scrape the pastry cream into the shell, smoothing it out to make an even layer.
- Garnish with whip cream, large-flaked toasted coconut and white chocolate curls. (Recipe for whip cream follows.)

Sweetned Whipped Cream

1 1/2 C whipping cream (35 %)
1 tsp vanilla
1 TBS sugar

- Whip the cream until it forms soft peaks, add the vanilla and the sugar and beat a few more times.

* I always whip cream by hand, and as long as you use a metal bowl and big light strokes, it should take about 5 minutes. However, if you try stirring it, or just swishing the whisk around, it will take forever. So, use a lifting motion and hop to it.

- Put the whipped cream on top of the pastry cream and sprinkle on the large flakes of toasted coconut (you can find this at the grocery store, or if not, at the health food store) and white chocolate curls*.

* These curls can easily be made from a block of white chocolate using a vegetable peeler. I couldn't find a block of chocolate easily, so I bought some curls...I know, next time I'll make them myself.

The pie will keep at least four days in the fridge. I had to send some home with Ros and Ben because I didn't want to eat more than half a pie all by myself. Even though I made it on Wednesday, it was still delicious Saturday night after a meal of chickpea curry, broccoli and sweet potatoes. But I'd say four days is the max amount of time you'd want to keep it.


- murph

Slides of Chicago

Secondary only to networking in Chicago, was eating. The following are a brief excerpt of my dining exploits, which involved the lovely troupe of women with whom I traveled. They did not fully understand my zeal for meal planning (or food photography) but they played along.

1. Sally and I share a bacon burger at Epic Burger. Cops eat lunch here, I don't think there is a higher recommendation than that.
2. Baklava at the Artist's Cafe. A wonderful spot for people watching.
3. Bacon waffle with two eggs over easy at Yolk. We tried to go back on a Saturday and the wait was an hour (we passed, but weeped a little inside).
4. A Portillos polish. I walked for twenty minutes, after having a very strong drink, with a friend for this hot dog. We needed the hot dog (and the walk).
5. Scallop paella at Cafe Iberico. Sally ordered in Spanish and we drank Sangria while oggling the handsome waiter.

What's In The Fridge?

When I go to people's houses, I love taking a little sneak peak into the fridge. It's quite telling about their quirky habits, guilty pleasures and plain old taste. Do they eat packaged or processed? Organic or not? Fresh vegetables? Do they looovvee peanut butter? Sausage? Bacon? Cheese? Are they condiment hoarders? Is it empty? Too full? Do they even know what's in there? Don't worry, I won't make all my judgments based on the contents of your fridge, just half. And we'll look at mine for starters, so you can judge me first if you wish.

This week I caught a cold, a really nasty five-day-cold that is still in residence. I tried to rest, and I was, for me, but I had to go to the store because I had to eat, and I had to do laundry and sweep this dusty place. Needless to say, I wasn't flat on my back with my feet up like I am today. That's right, I took the day off work and slept for two extra hours. I still feel like hell, but I'm glad I don't have to go anywhere. I didn't have tons of energy to take pictures of my food while eating it, so now I'm going to tell you about what's left in the fridge. Even though most things are wrapped up in plastic, there are some good things hiding in there, because I did cook, and I did eat, well.

On the top-most shelf there are eight eggs next to two merguez lamb sausages waiting to be cooked. A row below at left is a block of peccorino romano cheese (more salty than parmesan) next to the almost finished jar of Katherine's golden apricot jam, a carton of soy milk, a small nip of real parmesan and a lamb garlic sausage that I haven't opened yet. Hiding behind all of that are some sad, forgotten black olives. Moving down a row is a bucket of rather strong tasting green olives which I love to eat chopped on a slice of bread with cream cheese. Next is a quinoa salad of canned salmon and roasted almonds with a sesame and rice vinegar dressing, followed by a massive container of lentil soup and more quinoa. Hiding behind must be my half round of blue cheese and block of emmanthal. The bottom row has a container of deliciously spiced, roasted sweet potatoes and parsnips, next to half an uncooked sweet potato and another parsnip, a bag of broccoli and a bag of green beans and a bag of carrots. On the door there are among other things, mayonnaise, mustard, ground flax seeds, some special ground chilli pepper that has to be refrigerated, ground cherry jam, cream cheese, fish sauce, chilli sauce, butter, and some almond butter.

Judy's Spicy Roasted Sweet Potatoes and Parsnips


I love parsnips and I love sweet potatoes. Roasted they're even better. I threw this together while watching All About My Mother, by Pedro Almodovar (well I paused the movie while I put them in the oven). They'd be perfect alongside a huge pile of steaming kale and grilled pork tenderloin, or my quinoa salad.....

The roasted tomato heat of the aleppo pepper (yes the special one that needs refrigerating!) and powdered ginger really spice these root veggies up, while the humble sweet potato softens the palate with her caramelized sugary flesh. Add an apple and you're laughing.

2 large sweet potatoes
3 parsnips
1 big fat cooking apple
1 TBS aleppo pepper (or more to taste)*
1 tsp ground ginger (or fresh chopped would be terrific)
a couple pinches of dried rosemary, or more if you have fresh around
enough olive oil to coat all the vegetables
rock salt and fresh ground pepper

-Preheat the oven to 400 F.
- Cut up the sweet potatoes and parsnips into same sized pieces and place into a large roasting pan.
- Cut up the apple, add to pan**
- Coat with a couple glugs of olive oil.
- Add salt and pepper to taste.
- Add aleppo pepper, ginger and rosemary.
- Give the whole thing a good stir to evenly distribute the spices and slid 'er into the oven for about 45 minutes, or until the veggies are soft.

- I didn't try it, but I can't help thinking an added TBS of maple syrup would be KILLER.

- Don't have any pork tenderloin, kale or quinoa salad? Make up a peanut sauce, soak some rice noodles, fry up some tofu, steam some broccoli and wow, there's a good little meal.

* If you don't have the aleppo pepper you could use regular chilli powder or chilli flakes. The aleppo has a low humming heat, and a deep roasted tomato flavour that makes it less sharp than the average chilli powder you can buy. It's really super berther, so give it a shot if you can.

**About the apple: it will cook much faster than the vegetables. I added it at the beginning and it coated the veggies with a nice, sweet sauce, but you could add it about 15 minutes before the rest are done to have firmer pieces.


I think I'm going to go and have some more for my lunch.

- Murph

And I Came Bearing Cinnamon Rolls

They're really the epitome of delicious. I simply cannot resist them, or an opportunity to make them, especially for other people. I went to Ros and Ben's apartment for brunch this morning, gloriously warm for November, and brought some cinnamon rolls. Another Molly Wizenberg success, they have just enough butter and sugar to make them pillowy soft, but not enough to make the old stomach groan. You can, in fact, eat multiple ones, drink enough coffee, have a delicious "western-style" omlette (expertly made by Ben) and come out dancing. The real cincher is the cream cheese icing (no skimpy affair) which leaves you reaching our your knife for more and more and more. So while the sun poured through the open back door of their colourful apartment and stretched its lazy self onto the floor, we sat ourselves down and had one of the laziest, work-free Sundays in what feels like forever.

Cinnamon Rolls
as adapted from Molly Wizenberg

Makes enough to fill a 9 X 12 pan.

I always use instant yeast. It's less fussy and saves a bit of time. However, it's still important that your ingredients are WARM, but definitely not hot. Too much heat will kill the yeast.

* Kelsey asked me in the comments box if I made these the night before or the morning of. I made them the night before, but waited to bake them in the morning. You can let the dough rise, form the rolls and put them into a pan before you go to bed. Refrigerate the pan over night and in the morning, take them out an hour or so before cooking, or put them into a warm oven (but not too warm! Just so it's nice and cozy) and then preheat the oven and bake. I let mine rise a bit before baking, but they were still cold when they went into the oven and they puffed up great. Despite how cold it is in the fridge, they will continue to rise.

Dough

1 C milk
3 Tbs unsalted butter
3 1/2 C flour (and some more)
1/2 C sugar
1 large egg
2 1/4 tsp instant yeast
1 tsp salt

- Melt the butter in a skillet while warming up the milk. Do this slowly so that the milk doesn't get too hot, but so that the butter melts.
- In a bowl combine 1 C flour, the sugar, the yeast, the egg, the salt and the milk and butter mixture. Mix rapidly to combine.
- Add the rest of the flour and more if the dough is too sticky.
- Knead on the counter until smooth and elastic - about 5 minutes.
- Let rise in a warm place for 2 hours

Filling

3/4 C brown sugar
2 Tbs ground cinnamon
1/4 C melted unsalted butter

- Mix together sugar and cinnamon in a bowl.
- Melt butter.
- When your dough has doubled in size, roll it out until you have a big rectangle. You can make smaller buns if you roll it out thinner, or larger ones if you leave it thicker. Mine were on the smaller size, but were perfect because then you can eat more!
- Spread the melted butter onto the rolled out dough.
- Sprinkle on the cinnamon/sugar mixture.
- Carefully roll up the dough lengthwise and cut into desired sizes (about 1 3/4 - 2 inches thick)
- Place into 9 X 12 pan, or divide into two 9 X 9 square pans.
- Let rise 45 minutes.
- Preheat oven to 350.
- Bake for 30-40 minutes or until brown on top. You might need to rotate the pan half way through.

Glaze

4 ounces cream cheese (1/2 a block of philadelphia)
1 C powdered sugar
1/4 C butter
1/2 tsp vanilla

- Make sure your butter and cream cheese are soft, or room temperature, and mix all ingredients together.

- When the rolls are ready, find someone to make some tasty eggs the way you like 'em, or make them yourself, fix your breakfast beverage of choice, turn on some funky tunes, and sink your teeth in. These are real heart warmers.

-murph

Spaghetti Sauce

My mother was an hour late for their first spaghetti dinner. She drove down the highway in the wrong direction long enough to start questioning her whereabouts, eventually turned around, and successfully arrived at Dad's door. Although I imagine her tardiness hindered his confidence some what, he didn't miss a beat, serving wine in earthenware goblets, heaping his homemade sauce onto noodles, and playing the fourth movement (the adagietto) of Mahler's 5th symphony. A man who cooks is a man who impresses, and Sal was smitten. As was he, I'm sure, by her energy that fills a room, huge smile and paranormal drive.

As children we have no access to our parent's deep history; it is incomprehensible territory. But if I've learned anything from these two, it's that perseverance in matters of the heart and eating together are incredibly important. I can't help but feel the influence of these values, and will surely put them to good use when embarking on my own romantic endeavors, or try to. However, different I am, and magical fate has a tendency to play a role in such situations, making sure we're okay and headed down the right path, despite what everyone says. So patiently wait I will for the moment when another fellow world conqueror comes along, and we manage to look not only at each other, but in the same direction.


Spaghetti sauce was the backbone of week-night meals growing up. A meal to eat after a road-trip, an epic day on the ski slopes, a hysterical fight, a day in the life... Even if you have to buy mediocre ingredients, spaghetti sauce will always be good; it must be the love you make it with. I've watched both my parents make this sauce a gazillion times, and Sal always says: Brown the onions and the meat first! That's what gives it flavour.

Last night I sequentially listened to every Radiohead album I own and made spaghetti courtesy of Jamie Oliver, who bakes his sauce instead of simmering it. Kelsey's family enlightened mine to his existence one Christmas, and the following summer my parents gave me one of his books for my birthday. Countless terrific meals have followed, and yesterday's was no exception. Plus, in the company of my dear friend Rosalind and a delicious bottle of red wine, which resulted in a lot of fast talking and general hysterics, what more could you need?

chocolate mousse to end it all.....



Spaghetti Sauce

as adapted from Jamie Oliver

For 4 eaters

10 slices of bacon, diced
1 handful of fresh rosemary - or a tsp + a bit, dried
olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
3 cloves of garlic, pressed or finely chopped
1 lb ground beef (or you could grind your own chuck steak!) I used ground bison.
1 glass good red wine (that you're going to drink with dinner)
1 tsp oregano
1 14 oz can of tomatoes
1 5.5 oz can tomatoe paste (or he suggests a small jar of sundried tomatoes, yum!)
sea salt and fresh ground pepper
1 1b spaghetti (or enough for whoever's eating)
2 handfuls of grated parmesan or peccorino for a saltier taste

Preheat oven to 325*

- In an oven-proof casserole (or in a frying pan and make the transfer afterwards) fry up the bacon, rosemary, onion and garlic in olive oil until slightly crispy and brown.
- Add the ground meat and cook until brown.
- Add the wine, reduce a bit.
- Add the tomatoes and the tomato paste.
- Season to taste.
- Put the lid on, or cover with wax paper or aluminum foil, and slide the dish into the oven for an hour and a half.

- 20 minutes before you take the sauce out of the oven, start boiling water for the pasta. When it's boiling, add lots of salt, and a bit of olive oil. Cook pasta how you like it, drain, and dish up! I went the granola route and made whole wheat pasta, it was delicious.

- Ros opted for something lean and something green, so I cooked broccoli, but a salad would be an equally nice touch.

* Jamie suggests you cook it at 350, but I found that was too hot and because when I took it out of the oven my sauce was bubbling to bursting.

AND THEN!


"Cheeky Chocolate Mousse"

As adapted from Jamie Oliver

For two people and a bit

This is not your "traditional" chocolate mousse recipe where the eggs are cooked with the chocolate to achieve a custard, and the egg-whites folded in at the end, but it's SO EASY. I made this recipe in 15 minutes, and Ros really loved it, well, so did I, who am I kidding.

Jamie suggests serving this mousse with his Sesame Seed Toffee Snaps, which I didn't make, but I kinda wish I had. A glass of port had to do...

I also halved the recipe, so you can double this to make enough for four.

4 oz GOOD chocolate (Just do yourself a favour and don't skimp. I used a 71 % bar of Coca Camino dark chocolate, which is not the highest of the highest quality, but it's organic, fair-trade etc., and pretty darn good)
2 1/2 TBS butter
1 C heavy cream
1 large egg
1 TBS port (Jamie suggests Amaretto, and you could use whatever else tickles your fancy)
1 TBS honey

- Melt butter and chocolate over low heat. I used a non-stick frying pan, but a stainless steel bowl over boiling water would be ideal. If you stir it frequently, there'll be no problem with skipping the double boiler method, just make sure you do this over a medium-low heat. Take the pan off the heat when the chocolate and butter have melted together.
- Whisk up the egg, honey and port vigorously until it's foamy.
- Whip up the cream until soft peaks form, not too stiff.
- Slowly whisk the egg into the chocolate. Slowly being the key word because the chocolate might still be very warm and you don't want the egg to curdle. It won't though if you let your chocolate cool, even for five minutes.
- Fold chocolate mixture into the whip cream using light stirring strokes to keep in as much air as possible.
- Pour into small jars, or various cups, little bowls, or into one big bowl and refridgerate for two hours before serving. If you use one big bowl you'll need almost 4 hours hours, or overnight to achieve the right texture.


- murph

Dates (the fruit, not the act people) are SO in right now.

As you know, this time last week I made an abundance of baked products for a bake sale. There are two in particular that I would like to comment on.

1. Date Filled Windows.
These little ditty's came out of a Farm Journal's Cookie recipe book that Matt gave me for my Birthday last year. Published in 1971 it features truly riotous copy such as "Keep your cookie jar filled with these for a good hostess reputation" or "a favorite of men." BUT patriarchy aside, their are some damn good cookies in this volume.

Due to an abundance of dates left over from a presentation on Islam, I decided to make "Date Windows." Like any "window" cookie you make a dough, roll it out, create two circular cookies and then cut a shape out of one. You place filling on the uncut circle, place the cut circle on top and press the two together. Thanks to my mama, I had some darling fall themed cookie cutters with which to create these windows. So my date window cookies featured apple, pumpkin and leaf shaped windows.

Here is what shocked me. THESE SUCKERS SOLD LIKE HOT CAKES. I sold out of Date Windows in 20 minutes, and then had perfect (if I do say so myself) chocolate chip cookies and Snickerdoodles a al SmittenKitchen sit for another 3 hours. And I don't think it was just their charm. People were all about the dates, and the nostalgia of this kind of cookie.

Date Windows
adapted from Farm Journal's Homemade Cookies (1971, p. 159)
*The adaptation here is that I use self-rising flour. I find that self-rising flour for standard cookie recipes works great, cuts down on a little measuring and provides a softer cookie. If you're a purist, the original calls for 2 1/2 cups flour, 1/4 tsp. baking soda, and 1/2 tsp. salt.

For the Filling:
2 cups finely cut or ground dates
3/4 cup sugar
3/4 cup water
1 tsp. lemon or orange zest

For the Cookie:
1/2 cup shortening
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp. vanilla
2 1/2 cups self-rising flour

Mix shortening, sugar and sugar until combined. Add eggs and whisk until light and pale yellow colored. Stir in vanilla and incorporate thoroughly. Blend flour into mixture. Dump dough out onto a square of cling wrap, wrap up dough and chill for at least an hour, but can be chilled overnight.

In the mean time prepare filling. Combine dates, water and sugar in a saucepan. Cook slowly over medium heat until mixture thickens. When thick, stir in zest and let cool. This can easily be stored in the refrigerator over night or for several days.

When dough is chilled, flour a surface and rolling pin. Roll dough out very thin, about 1/16th of an inch. Using a cookie cutter or a glass, cut out circles from dough. Place half the circles on a greased cookie sheet. Spoon a generous tsp. full of date mixture into the center of these circles. Cut out a shape with a cookie cutter or smaller glass from the remaining circles. Gently place these on the date covered circles, and seal the edges by pressing down firmly with your finger tips.

Bake in a 400 degree oven until cookies are just barely browned. Allow to cool on cookie sheet. Share with folks who are classy and appreciate dates (the fruit! the fruit.).

2. Cardamom
I also made a number of cardamom rolls for the bake sale. Now, these did not sell quite as well - but that is because people are afraid of what is different (an excuse? maybe.) Needless to say I ended up with an abundance of left over rolls - and Matt and I have been slowly making our way through them. My favorite new method of cardamom roll consumption? Heating the roll in the microwave for about 20sec, and then gingerly tearing it open to stuff a piece of hard salami inside. Delicious. Perfect breakfast. I think the Finns would be proud.

Cardamom Rolls
Adapted from Beatrice A. Ojakangas The Finnish Cookbook (1989, p. 34).
Makes at least 2 1/2 dozen

For the dough:
1 package active dry yeast (or 1/2 tbsp).
2 cups milk, lukewarm
1 cup white sugar
7-8 Cardamom pods, crushed (you can use already ground - but the flavor is not quite the same)
4 eggs, beaten
8-9 cups white flour
1/2 cup butter

Mix the milk, sugar, salt, cardamom, eggs and 1 cup flour to make a thin batter. In a separate bowl stir the yeast into 2 cups of flour. Add the milk batter to the yeast and flour and incorporate thoroughly. Add two more cups of flour and continuing working in until the dough is smooth and glassy. Add the melted butter and incorporate entirely.

Then, continue adding flour until the dough becomes to difficult to stir. At this point dump dough out onto a floured surface and kneed until smooth and only barely sticky. You can continue adding flour if necessary. When dough holds it's shape well (without "oozing" or spreading) place in a greased (can be greased with canola oil, butter, etc.) bowl and cover tightly with plastic wrap. When dough has doubled, punch down and let rise again.

After second rise, form your rolls. Pull small knobs of dough and shape into round balls by rolling between your palms. Placed on a greased baking sheet and cover with clean towel. Let rise until doubled (about 20 minutes). If desired, brush with egg. Bake in 400 degree oven for 25 - 30 minutes. When rolls come out they should easily bounce back when pressed on. This dough is EASY to over bake which causes it to dry out, so be careful.

Let rolls cool completely and then keep in a bread box or airtight bag.