First Dabblings in Jerusalem

I finally put Smitten Kitchen back on the shelf and moved on to some other new cookbooks that I've been anxious to tackle.

My mom and I had both been pining for the new Jerusalem book before the holidays. Every year for Christmas, it's inevitable that we both end up with the same cookbook as a gift. This year, this was that book.

A few weeks ago, we realized that we were both making the same pasta dish from the book: the Conchiglie with Yogurt, Peas & Chile. So, we did a bit of a cook along that night via text message. Well, let me rephrase. She sent me some bits of info as she made it an hour earlier. I tried to manage entertaining a seven month old in her high chair while I cooked.

"Putting peas into pot of pasta right before draining to save a pot / time."

"My oil is not turning red...probably cuz different chili flakes."

She was right on about the peas cooking with the pasta. I'm not sure why the recipe isn't written as such. The recipes in the book are certainly not hard, but I have noticed they are perhaps a tad fussy, a tad more complicated than you would think they need to be.

But this pasta dish is fabulous.

It was the perfect thing to eat coming off of the holidays. The sauce is simply thick and tangy Greek yogurt pureed with some green peas, garlic, and olive oil. It is the prettiest green color and feels fresh and hopeful of Spring.

The pasta and some additional peas get mixed with the sauce along with lots of fresh basil and feta (I actually don't think the feta adds anything and would skip it next time).

And then.

You fry up some pine nuts in olive oil with chile flakes (I used red pepper flakes) and scatter the nuts and oil on top of pasta.

The sauce makes it refreshing; the pasta makes it comforting and substantial; the pine nuts and their oil add spice. It's so delightful, really.

And it was also great as leftovers--cold or hot. (I had it cold for lunch the next day and hot for dinner that night.)

We have both had great success with a handful of other recipes that we've made from the book too. I loved Na'ama's Fattoush--a fresh and tangy salad of chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, radishes, torn pieces of stale pita, lots of fresh herbs, yogurt, lemon, and sumac. I know this salad will be even more amazing this summer with super fresh vegetables.

I also loved the Hummus Kawarma (Lamb) with Lemon Sauce--a pool of hummus topped with spiced ground lamb and a lemon sauce.

The Red Pepper and Baked Egg Galettes were also good, a great weeknight staple, although not quite as fantastic as some of the other recipes.

The book itself is beautiful. It's full of delicious recipes that feel healthier but don't sacrifice on taste. It's a fabulous break from the norm.


Conchiglie with Yogurt, Peas & Chile, Adapted slightly from Jerusalem

2 1/2 c Greek Yogurt
2/3 c olive oil
4 cloves of garlic
1 lb frozen peas, defrosted
1 lb conchiglie pasta
1/2 c pine nuts
1 tsp red pepper flakes
1 2/3 c torn basil leaves
Salt and white pepper

In food processor, blend together the yogurt, 6 tbsp olive oil, the garlic, and 2/3 c peas until smooth and creamy. Transfer to large mixing bowl.

Cook the pasta according to the directions on the box. Add the remaining peas for the last couple of minutes of pasta cook time.

In the meantime, heat the remaining olive oil in a small frying pan over medium heat. Add the pine nuts and red pepper flakes and cook for about 4 minutes, until the pine nuts are light golden brown.

Drain the pasta and peas and gradually add them to the sauce (the book says it's important to add the hot pasta gradually so as not to make the sauce separate). Toss in the basil, 1 tsp salt, and 1/2 tsp pepper.

Serve in individual bowls with some of the pine nuts and oil drizzled over the top.

Smitten

I frequently get completely totally utterly overwhelmed by all of the choices that live in the pages of my cookbook collection.

And every time that happens, I complain to my mom about it. And every time I complain, she offers up the same piece of advice: "Why don't you pick one book and just cook out of that for a while?"

It's a suggestion I've honestly never been all that enticed by. For starters, that would bring on a whole new challenge--picking the one cookbook I'd follow for a week, a month, a season. And also, there aren't many cookbooks I own that have the right balance of taste appeal and practicality to keep me content for an extended period of time.

Enter The Smitten Kitchen Cookbook.

Now, I can actually imagine cooking out of one cookbook for a while. I'm actually doing it already, despite a pile of new books sitting waiting. I finally like my mom's advice! (Finally like her advice on this front, that is. I often like her other advice. :))

Let's back up a second though so that I can come clean on my relationship with The Smitten Kitchen. I had made a few Smitten Kitchen recipes before the book came out. I checked in on her blog once in a while, was moderately interested in her recipes, mentally hated the blue countertops she shot all of her recipes on, and then forgot about her for a couple of months.

But then this Spring, that Peanut Butter Chocolate Cake happened. And just like that, she had captured my attention.

So, I was intrigued when I heard she had a book coming out. But I also skeptical. Most of the recipes of hers I had made were adaptations of other peoples' recipes. Adaptations of Ina. Adaptations of the Homesick Texan. So, I wondered what she would bring to the table on her own.

Let's just say I have been shocked. Let's say I was very, very wrong in this instance for being a food snob. Let's just say that I should admit defeat and hang my head in shame. For, I almost missed out on the greatness that is this book.

I have been cooking out of it ever since I got it a few weeks ago. And 5 out of the 6 recipes I have made I have *loved.* The sixth recipe was very good. I didn't love it, but I'm guessing I'll make it again. It was good.

Here is what I've made:

Almond Date Breakfast Bars: Those around me who I talk food with know that as of late, I'm obsessed with nutritionally dense (but still delicious) bars. These were addicting. I had no trouble polishing off the pan myself in a week. Dried dates, oats, wheat germ, almonds, almond butter, cinnamon, orange zest, honey. Delicious.

Honey and Harissa Farro Salad: Now that I'm home full-time with Lola, I'm always on the lookout for lunch ideas. This salad was delicious and nutritious, full of sweet roasted carrots and parsnips, nutty farro, a sweet and spicy harissa vinaigrette, and salty feta.

Broccoli Rabe Panini with Mozzarella: We've had this twice. It's shockingly delicious and super comforting. An incredibly easy weeknight meal.

Butternut Squash and Caramelized Onion Galette: This was so wonderful. My second favorite recipe in the book so far. Not the healthiest in the book for dinner, with a copious amount of butter in the pastry dough. But delicious. Hearty. Rustic but elegant. A perfect dish when feeding a vegetarian.

Sesame-Spiced Turkey Meatballs and Smashed Chickpea Salad: This was the one recipe I didn't *love.* But to be fair, I was missing a few of the ingredients, and I overcooked my meatballs because I was multi-tasking. Still good, but not my favorite.

So, what was my favorite, you ask?

Tonight's Mustard Milanese with Arugula Fennel Salad. Okay, Zach loves chicken. I do not. Or, I did not until I had this tonight. This is delicious chicken. It's perfect chicken. Thin cutlets are pan-fried after being dredged in flour, dunked in a mustard-y mixture, and patted down with panko. Then, the chicken is topped with a zippy and rich arugula and fennel salad. It's appropriately seasoned at each step, and the recipe contains little tidbits that make the dish sing, such as suggesting that you drizzle a little of the leftover vinaigrette over the warm chicken before you top it with the salad. I had two helpings. Of chicken. That never happens.

And just like that, I have a bunch of new sure-bet recipes to add to the arsenal.

I love that the recipes in the book rely heavily on things already in my pantry. It feels different in that way than my other cookbooks. But not in a boring way. In a smart, inventive way.

And I'm also excited about the two tips I've already learned from this book. Tips that should have been in any of my other 100+ cookbooks (shame on them).

1. Deb (the woman behind The Smitten Kitchen is Deb Perelman in case you didn't catch on) seems to have cracked the code on roasting vegetables. Like she described in the book, I also fell victim to my veggies sticking to my baking sheets despite liberal amounts of olive oil. The answer? Smear a slick of olive oil on the sheet first, then throw on the veggies. Season them. Put in oven. It's that simple. And it totally works. I'm still scratching my head on that one. Why it doesn't work to toss the veggies in oil and then put on sheet, I don't know.

2. If you're breading chicken, put it in the fridge for an hour after you've dredged, soaked, coated. She says it helps the coating stick. And judging by what we had tonight, she's totally right.

So smart, that Deb.

I am in love with this book.

The Perfect Christmas Cookie

We had a holiday day yesterday at our house. Since Zach celebrates Hanukkah, and I celebrate Christmas, I was feeling the need to create a bridge between the two. A common ground. A day for both of us (and Lola, of course).

So, as part of our little family holiday extravaganza yesterday, I decided everyone in the household would get to pick a cookie for me to make. Lola included. Because three kinds of cookies is better than two kinds of cookies, right?

And since Lola can't really pick herself this year, I picked for her. 

And as it turns out, I think I picked the perfect holiday cookie for Lola's special cookie. 

Cardamom-Orange Sugar Cookie Squirrels.

Why were these chosen as Lola's cookie? Well, we know the girl loves songs about birds. "Little Bird, Little Bird," "Three Birds," "Blackbird." If the song has a bird in it, she'll light up when it's playing. So, I've decided if she loves songs about birds, she must love real birds too. Or bird-shaped cookies, at least.

So, my original plan was to make sugar cookie bird cut-outs in honor of her. But with the snowstorm yesterday, I didn't make it to the store to get a bird cookie cutter. So, I rummaged around through what I already had and found a cute squirrel. And since her nursery is woodland themed, boom.

Why were these the perfect holiday cookie? Because they are classic. But different.

Every year when it comes time to make holiday cookies, I crave the usual suspects but am intrigued by all sorts of new recipes (is this sounding somewhat similar to my last post?). This recipe achieved both. Sugar cookies are a holiday cookie staple. The cardamom and orange made them feel special--and taste amazing.

I love these cookies. They'll become one of our regulars. I think I'll have to make them every year for Lola and tell her the story of how they became her cookie. 

I hope she actually likes them one day... :)

Cardamom-Orange Sugar Cookies

Adapted very slightly from December 2009 issue of Bon Appetit

2 1/2 c flour

1 1/4 tsp ground cardamom

1/2 tsp salt

3 sticks unsalted butter, room temp

1 c plus 2 tbsp sugar

1 1/2 tsp orange zest

1/2 tsp vanilla

1 egg

Sanding sugar, to decorate

Whisk dry ingredients together in bowl; set aside.

Using mixer fitted with paddle attachment, cream the butter until creamy. Slowly add the sugar; beat until fluffy (about 3 minutes). Mix in orange zest and vanilla. Beat in egg. Add flour in 3 parts. Mix until just blended. 

Refrigerate dough for 1 hour until cool enough to be formed into balls.

Form dough into two balls. Refrigerate overnight. (I found that this dough needed to be very cool to work with easily).

Preheat oven to 350.

Roll out each ball of dough on well-floured surface until 1/8 inch thick. Cut out using cookie cutters.

Place on greased baking sheet, leaving room in between for spreading. Decorate with sanding sugar.

Bake until light golden brown, about 15 minutes. Let cool on pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to cooling rack.

My Would-Be Thanksgiving

I can still taste last year's Thanksgiving dinner. And I don't want it again this year.

Don't get me wrong. Thanksgiving dinner was plenty delicious last year, as always. As always. That's the thing.

We have the same thing every year. The same delicious line-up every year. And I guess now that I've had it about 30 times, I'm getting sick of it. It's only to be expected, right? Except for some reason, my dad isn't sick of it. And he's had it twice as many times. Hmm.

My mom and I are always finding great new recipes. We pin them. We save them. We make mental notes. We discuss.

So this year, by god, we thought we'd actually make some new things for Thanksgiving.

And we didn't want to simply add these things onto the usual suspects. We wanted to make them instead of the usual recipes.

Well, apparently that is just asking too much.

We knew we couldn't get too crazy on the boys (my dad, my brother, Zach). Turkey and gravy, a must.   Better keep stuffing on the menu. Cranberry sauce, a keeper. And potatoes of some sort would be included, make no mistake.

So, this was what we proposed:

Turkey & Gravy
Bon Appetit's Simple is Best Dressing
Martha's Sweet Potato and Sage-Butter Casserole
Bon Appetit's Slow Roasted Green Beans with Sage
Bon Appetit's Parker House Rolls
Bon Appetit's Cranberry-Orange Relish with Mint
Martha's Pumpkin Carrot Cake with Citrus Glaze

ERRRRRRRR, back the car up. What?!

"Thanksgiving is all about tradition," said my dad. This came after I calmly and patiently explained that my mom and I were hoping to try some new recipes this year and streamline. He put his foot down when it came to the corn pudding we always have. And the pumpkin pie. Thanksgiving just couldn't happen without those. In his mind, anyway.

"No mashed potatoes?" asked Zach sadly. "But I really love all three pies," he continued. (Apple, pumpkin, French silk)

My brother made sure to tweet me his must-have when he caught wind of this shake-up: creamed spinach.

Blurg. That sure doesn't leave much room for anything new. Those boring ritual-ridden boys.

My mom's approach has been to offer to make these must-haves at other points during that week when we're all together. That doesn't seem very streamlined to me.

My approach to date? To tell them "too bad, so sad." After all, my mom and I are the ones cooking. And I'm certain those boys will not be deprived of good food.

What we'll actually do? TBD.

I have a feeling I'll soften a bit. But I'm not giving up my Pinterest board either.

I have a feeling this year's Thanksgiving will not be streamlined. There are worse things, right?

The Half-Eaten Cake Project

Whoever said that if you breastfeed your baby you'll lose tons of weight was a big fat liar. They do not deserve any cake.

I breastfeed my baby. I have not lost a ton of weight post-baby.

To be fair, I eat cake. And cookies, and pastries, and candy, and other sweet stuff.

I happen to LOVE cake. I love chewing on layers of moist cake with silky smooth frosting.

But it doesn't help me lose any baby weight.

So, I have a new project. It's called The Half-Eaten Cake Project. It's just what it sounds like. I will make delicious cakes (I have dozens of them ear-marked, ready to be baked.). I will cut a slice out for me. I will cut a slice out for Zach. And then I will pass along the rest of the cake to whoever wants it. That way, I won't eat slices for breakfast, slivers for mid-morning snacks, chunks as an afternoon pick-me-up, or wedges for dessert.

Because that is what I do when I have cake around. Or cookies, or pastries, or candy, or other sweet stuff.

I have no control.

I still think whoever said that if you breastfeed your baby you will lose tons of weight was a big fat liar. But I will be the first to admit that eating cake doesn't help.

So, I'm doing my part. :)

Person who started the rumor that if you breastfeed your baby you will lose tons of weight, please stop saying that.

Do you want some cake? Leave a comment on this post saying so, and I'll add you to the list of possible half-eaten cake recipients. You have to live in the TC. I have to be able to reasonably give this cake to you. I have to know you already. Sorry, but those are the rules.

My brother was the recipient of the first cake, a cake with three layers of banana cake, a peanut butter filling, and chocolate ganache from the Baked Elements cookbook.

The layers of banana cake were delicious and moist. The peanut butter filling was good. The ganache was a hot mess. It was slick, and it slid. I have some theories about why this might have been (I used chocolate chips to make it, I really helped the butter become softened). So for now I won't share the recipe. It's not fool-proof in my eyes.

The concept is a brilliant one, though. Who wouldn't love those three flavors together in a cake?

Again, want in? Comment, please.

The Difference a Day Makes: Crunchy Peanut Butter Banana Bread

I'm loving the new Baked Elements cookbook.

Divided into different flavor sections, like Banana, Chocolate, Booze, Pumpkin, and Peanut Butter, their recipes are just what I love to bake. Homey but aspirational, comforting but a little bit interesting, almost always yielding great results.

These guys aren't new to me. Their earlier book contains the recipe for my favorite pumpkin whoopee pies and some killer brownies.

There are many recipes I have mentally earmarked in this new book. But I started with the Crunchy Peanut Butter Banana Bread.

I'm somewhat obsessed with banana bread these days. My mom said I must be missing something in my diet (sugar? white carb-y goodness?), but I know that isn't the case. But I'm drooling over recipes for Nutella Banana Bread, Chocolate Banana Bread, Tropical Banana Bread...

My friend Jessica told me she wanted this recipe. But the night I made it, I messaged her back and told her I didn't love the recipe, that it was way too peanut buttery at the expense of the poor bananas. I was sad about it. Warm, it tasted overwhelmingly like cooked peanut butter. And not in a great way. It was fine, don't get me wrong. But I was missing the banana. And I was not digging the peanut bits (you use crunchy peanut butter).

I had pretty much rejected the recipe.

Until the next morning.

Did I love the bread the night I made it? No. Did that stop me from eating a rather thick slice for breakfast the next morning anyway? Yea, right.

And you know what? It's a good thing.

Overnight as the bread cooled, the flavors readjusted themselves. The peanut butter tamed itself and the bananas woke up. The balance was nice. And the chocolate chips...well, they did their yummy chocolate chip thing.

The peanut chunks? Still wasn't a huge fan. Next time, I'll make this with smooth peanut butter, much to the dismay of Matt & Renato.

Mmm, peanut butter, banana, chocolate.

Stay tuned for more of these flavors from me. They're exactly what I'm craving these days. And there are chapters in this book on each. Watch out.

Crunchy Peanut Butter Banana Bread (which would just be Peanut Butter Banana Bread if you take my suggestion), adapted slightly from Baked Elements by Matt Lewis and Ronato Poliafito

1 1/2 c flour, plus 1 tbsp to coat chips
1 c sugar, plus 1 tbsp
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 cup mashed bananas
1/2 c vegetable oil
2 eggs
1/3 c whole milk
1 c crunchy peanut butter (I'd use smooth next time)
2/3 c semisweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350. Butter a 9 x 5 loaf pan and dust with flour.

Whisk together 1 1/2 c flour, sugar, salt, and baking soda.

In another bowl, whisk together bananas, oil, eggs, milk, peanut butter. Mix together remaining tablespoon of flour with chocolate chips in small bowl. Add chips to banana mixture.

Fold wet ingredients into dry ingredients gently until just combined. Pour batter into pan.

Bake for about 1 hour 10 minutes or until toothpick comes out with a few moist crumbs.

Let cool in pan for 15 minutes. Then cool completely on rack.

Serve after cooled completely in big thick slices.

The Pie-Oli is Born

So, making things easier is what's hot right now.

My mom and I did the opposite this week. Why, you ask? Because we love to take on food projects when she visits. Because we had too much time on our hands. Because, why not?

We rattled through the typical seasonal flavors as we tried to decide on a project. Then we tried to figure out how we could turn the usual form on its head. There was some discussion about a kitchen tool I brought back from Rome 4 years ago and have yet to use.

And the pie-oli was born.

The apple pie-oli to be exact, with 3 glazes: calvados, maple, and lemon.

We shopped for the ingredients. And then the project sadly sat idle for a few days as we tended to a baby.

But finally, the night of the vice presidential debates (a fitting night for apple pie of some format, no?), we cranked it out.

As dinner cooked, we sautéed the apples. Tiny diced Granny Smiths, sautéed in butter and brown sugar. A pinch of salt and a splash of calvados added at the end.

Then we whipped up 3 different glazes. Again, because, why not? Glazes are easier than easy. We used 1/3 cup of confectioners' sugar as the base for each and added enough of each of the three liquids to get to the right consistency. For maple (our favorite because it added exactly the right does of sweetness against the pie crust), we used 2 tablespoons.

After dinner, we rolled some pie crust dough out super thin, laid it on top of the ravioli mold. Filled. Topped with another thin layer of pie crust dough. Rolled with the rolling pin. Pulled from the molds (which was surprisingly and thankfully easy). We brushed the sweet little pillows with egg wash, slitted the tops for venting. And in the 400 degree oven they went.

We pretty much stood in front of the oven watching them puff to perfect golden brownness. We pulled them out of the oven, lamented over how long they would take to cool, and stuck them in the cold porch to speed up the process.

Then we got to the fun part: drizzling on the glazes and evaluating which was best.

So, were these putzy? Yea, a little. Will we be making these for Thanksgiving instead of the standard pie? No. We'd have to make too many, and that could evolve beyond putzy to something close to tedious.

But making 24 of these was no sweat. And we'd argue they are pretty darn cute.