Somehow I’ve let another five weeks slip by without writing. It’s not for lack of cooking (or baking!). There were so many recipes I meant to share with you. But when all your spare brain space is consumed by thoughts of a pending life-altering event, it’s difficult to take the time to stop and reflect and write. Instead I’ve been patching walls, painting furniture, organizing closets (and reorganizing them), caulking windows, framing art, and selecting all the very many items it seems we’ll need to care for our little human once he arrives. Continue reading
Tag Archives: baked goods
Happy Birthday, Blog!
Today is my blog’s first birthday (!!) and for some reason I can think of nothing more appropriate to share with you than a story of total kitchen failure. I spend a lot of time writing about all the good food that makes its way off my stove and into our bellies, but every once in a while (aka on a semi-regular basis), things go terribly wrong. And there is almost nothing that frustrates me more. Continue reading
My Gift to You
If you follow the blog by email, you probably got an email yesterday with a broken link. Don’t worry. It’s not you, it’s me. I published a post, then thought better of it. It was a little mopey, a little mean, you really didn’t need to read it. I promise. Still, I feel I owe you a little something to make up for the blunder. And so, I give you the best, easiest, fastest cookie bar recipe ever. Seriously, start to finish in under an hour. And unless you don’t like peanut butter (like my boss’s boss, what?) or chocolate (I’m not even going to comment on this), you will LOVE these. Continue reading
Kitchen Tools and Challah French Toast
I was so eager to tell you about last weekend’s amazing pot pie that I neglected to tell you about the new kitchen tool I bought myself. You’re probably thinking that this is no big deal, that an avid home cook like me must buy kitchen tools the way normal people buy lattes or chapstick (or whatever it is normal people buy on a regular basis). But I don’t. In fact, I basically never buy kitchen stuff unless it’s absolutely necessary (see the French press incident and the must-have melon baller). Desperate times call for new kitchen supplies, but most of the time I’m pretty happy with the tried and trues. Continue reading
Sunday Lunch Love
I know I’ve already told you how much I love Sunday lunch. The Sundays I spent eating dim sum with my dad at Bernard’s in the Chestnut Hill Mall. Or the Sundays we went to Viet Hong and split a bowl of pho. Or the Sundays we sat at the bar at Legal Sea Foods and talked to our favorite bartender over light clam chowder (the cream-less version where you can actually taste the clams). Or the Sundays in Rangeley when dad made eggs florentine and the smell tantalized us for a full hour before it was ready to eat. Sunday lunch is perfect in so many ways. It’s far enough into the weekend that the week feels like a distant memory, but there’s still a long lazy afternoon ahead. And there’s so much time to eat, slowly, lazily, happily. Continue reading
The Anti-Diet Diet with a Side of Gluten
This weekend I made bagels. Not whole wheat bagels or spelt or some other altruistic grain disguised in bagel skin, but honest-to-goodness 100% white flour, quarter-pound bagels with extra gluten. I posted the photos of my happily boiling bagels to Facebook and within minutes I received the obvious question: “Can you make a gluten-free version?” The short answer is: “Yes, I’m quite certain I could find a recipe for a rice flour bagel out there.” But there’s also a much longer answer, which I’m about to unleash on you. Continue reading
An Ode to My French Press
I spoke too soon and jinxed myself. 2015 just seemed so promising, but then this weekend kitchen tragedy struck. While grinding my coffee beans, bleary eyed and grouchy, I knocked over my French press and watched helplessly as the glass carafe shattered on our granite counter top. Gah! I nearly cried. Partially because I have a soft spot for this particular coffee maker, which my college roommate surprised me with senior year, and partly because I really, really needed a cup of coffee.
And this was not the first disaster of the weekend. Saturday I spent at least an hour needlessly mixing and kneading the wrong yeast into two separate (but equally failing) doughs. This ended with several pounds of flour being dumped in the trash. Again, I was left in near tears, but at least that morning I had had my coffee. I did not however have the heart or energy to complete the original marbled rye recipe. By the time I kneaded the correct yeast into my dough, I was on batch number three of the light rye and there was absolutely no way that I could bring myself to mix its dark rye companion. So, instead I settled on a plain old rustic boule of rye, heavy on the caraway seeds and light on the molasses, just like Matt likes it. I have to say despite the arduous process, or maybe because of it, this bread turned out pretty darn good. Thick, crunchy, flaky crust on the outside. Soft, fluffy, and nicely chewy on the inside. Continue reading
The Matt Chronicles: Macaroni and Cheese
Ten years ago next month, Matt and I met in the Newark airport. Matt can tell you the exact date (and probably the exact time) because he has an uncanny knack for remembering scarily specific details. Speaking of details, we didn’t technically meet in the airport. I scowled at him from my seat at the gate, while he stood, arms crossed, weight on his heels, talking to a group of our Heathrow-bound peers. Matt has a knack for that, too. Being the one to introduce himself (formally and politely), to make new friends, and to start conversations. We didn’t actually meet until a week later, when I found myself in the dorm room next door to his and realized that I probably needed to acknowledge his existence. Given the impending anniversary of this momentous occasion, I feel compelled to share with you some of my favorite Matt stories and memories over the next several/very many posts. Continue reading
We Survived Thanksgiving
I think I am officially an adult. Last week Matt and I hosted Thanksgiving and we lived to tell about it. This feels momentous. We had all the fixings: turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, and the requisite green vegetables to cancel out the mass quantities of cream, butter, and carbohydrates we consumed. I am going to share the dressing recipe with you because frankly, I think it’s perfect. But first, let me share with you some stories of Thanksgivings past, because rumor has it that this holiday really isn’t supposed to be about the food after all. Continue reading
A Minor Miracle
The curse has been lifted. Yesterday at 3:30pm, I removed a perfectly risen, golden round of Pain de Campagne from the oven. I’m not going to say it was a miracle, but I was definitely praying to the bread gods throughout the whole process. The first time the bread rose, I laughed and teared up at the same time. The second time the bread rose, I walked the bowl into Matt’s office and shoved it under his chin. “Look! My dough doubled in size!!” By the time I shaped the twice risen dough into European-inspired rounds and placed them on cornmeal dusted baking sheets, I was downright giddy with anticipation, but also terribly anxious. With everything going so well, the probability of something going terribly wrong was increasing by the second. Continue reading
Cooking For Sig 