I brought this lavender and rosemary back from LA with me, stuffed into a plastic bag in my suitcase. It seems like they are growing everywhere there. Such a treat when the only living thing in our garden here is the hardy winter rye we planted to help restore our vegetable beds. For the past few days, I've been able to reach out and pinch these lovely sprigs, releasing their sharp-sweet fragrance onto my fingertips. (The smell of lavender has been proven to reduce stress.) Don't you just love having flowers in the house? Their beauty goes through so many phases, even when at last they droop and give up their petals. I especially like it when they come from the fields or my own garden. I'm dreaming even now of those two weeks in June when I'll have all the peonies I can handle. Check out these beauties from last year...
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I'm trying to cut back a bit these days. Too much indulgence catches up with me quickly, always manifesting in the body. My pants are tight, my neck hurts, my skin is blotchy. Last night, I slept 12 hours. One minute I was watching "The Baader Meinhof Complex" (boring, or was I just too tired?) and the next I was face down in the pillow. I'm in recovery. This means clean eating, exercise and plenty of rest. A lot of soups, as you've seen, the requisite daily juice and maybe the occasional treat of fresh sorbet. When I was in LA, I swooned over all the citrus. Oranges, satsumas, mandarins, grapefruits, and the lemons, especially the fragrant Meyers, even growing in friends' back yards. So lucky. Shopping at Fairway on our way back from the airport, I picked up armloads of citrus. The result was this intense and refreshing sorbet, a gorgeously concentrated flavor, spiked with spicy ginger.
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I once read somewhere that were he to come back as a kitchen tool (literally), David Chang would want to be a chinois. So called because of it’s alleged resemblance to the straw hat worn by the Chinese, the chinois (or chinoise) is an elegant little device that will elevate your sauces and soups to a new level of sophistication. This conical sieve with an extremely fine mesh is used to strain out the very smallest particles from custards, purees, soups and sauces, thus producing a smooth, velvety texture. It’s a rather expensive tool, not to be confused with the cheaper “China cap,” which has much larger holes. The chinois usually comes with a dowel that looks a bit like a pointy pestle, which is what you use to work soft foods through the mesh. It lets you easily press every last bit of juice and flavor from the solids. Some chinois come with a stand that is useful for holding it upright over a pot or bowl. Try using your chinois next time you’re making stock, pureed soup, jelly or custard. You will be shocked (pleasantly) by how refined the texture becomes and, because you can press on any remaining solids, you will notice a deeper, more intense flavor.
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Yesterday G and I saw "Up In the Air," Jason Reitman's film starring George Clooney, Vera Farmiga and Anna Kendrick. It was adapted from the novel of the same name by Walter Kirn. The credits feature a lot of amazing images of clouds, as you see them from an airplane; fields of them stretching out forever, impossibly puffy, pneumatic, full of air. The movie was not the sort of romantic comedy I thought it would be. It takes a rather more dim and realistic view of the human heart and shows how the very thing we imagine ourselves to be can turn out to be our undoing. It was actually kind of dark and poignant and unexpected. Clooney and Farmiga are both gorgeous and at the top of their respective games (for once Vera isn't playing an impoverished drug addict) and the new girl, Kendrick, is fresh and unmannered. Afterwards, we went to Union Square Café, to use an anniversary gift of a meal there we had received from G's parents. I hadn't been in ages but it's really the same as ever: warm, efficient, enjoyable.
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Around the holidays, a frenzy of baking takes place. Everyone is spritzing out those German butter cookies, rolling Mexican wedding cookies, dipping things in chocolate and sticking on sprinkles. And god bless them. But ever since my holistic nutritionist Sally Kravich likened eating white flour to putting elementary-school paste up my butt, I've tried to drastically reduce the amount of traditional baked goods I eat. (And after that lovely analogy you may, too, right?) The refined sugar, the refined flour, the Crisco...it's just not doing me any favors. And because G cannot eat gluten, options diminish even further. But none of this means I'm going to give up the occasional indulgence. So when I feel like eating a cookie, I make these deliciously chewy, assertively spiced, buttery little oat cookies that pack a lot of flavor.
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Does candy-making seem way too daunting? Here's a little secret: all it takes is a clip-on thermometer and a tireless stirring arm. (Doesn't even need to be yours!) More than ten years ago, I began making caramels to give away to clients and friends during the holiday season. They've developed quite the rabid fan base and, at this point, I can't really get away with not making them. (Quite a few people have suggested I start a business selling these caramels, but I think, like Haley's comet, their occasional appearance contributes to their coveted status.)
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Once upon a time (before parasites and gluten intolerance had come into full focus in this household) two people developed something of an addiction to Kettle Corn, that aphrodisiacal delivery system for salt and sugar disguised as a light treat. We would buy a large bag from Whole Foods, certain it would last the week, and then devour the entire thing while splayed on the couch watching Big Love. The subsequent bloating and intestinal pain was deemed "worth it."All that had become like a fever dream of the past when I stumbled upon a recipe for Maple Pecan Popcorn in the now defunct Gourmet magazine. (Damn you, Condé Nast! or should I say Damn you, McKinsey?) I decided it seemed like a "healthy" alternative—no sugar, after all—and whipped up a batch with my own addition of dried cranberries and cayenne.
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I love pumpkin pie. What I really love about it has everything to do with pumpkin and nothing to do with the crust. It's all about the innards. (Yet another reason why I'm a good match for my gluten-intolerant husband.) I began making this custard years ago, partially influenced by the many flans of my childhood. I like to serve it with a dollop of ginger-spiked crème fraîche and some candied pepitas. And then I like to wake up the next morning and eat it just plain or with yogurt (or with more crème fraîche) for breakfast.
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When my husband finally realized he was gluten-intolerant (after many years of horrible heartburn and at-times-comical flatulence), I had to abandon many of my special-occasion desserts. Of course there are great alternative flours from Bob's Red Mill (his all-purpose is a mix of garbanzo, fava, tapioca and sorghum) but it was also interesting to pursue baking without any flour at all. This particular cake recipe is based on ground almonds. It would also come in handy for Passover as it uses no leavening. I'm not really sure where it originated. Martha has a version with a schmancy topping. The New Yorker once featured Claudia Roden's. Of course I like mine quite a bit, even though I can't bear to use the word that best describes it:
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It is thought that the quince—and not the apple—is actually the fruit being referred to in the Song of Solomon; the one that caused Atalanta to pause in her fateful race; perhaps even the fruit of paradise. Today, in this country, the quince is not widely known, and is available primarily at specialty or farmers markets. It ripens in September and October but can often be found through December. The quince's gorgeous perfume, sweet and floral, belies its astringent taste and hard texture, which is sometimes covered with a sparse, velvety fur. But roasted, baked or stewed and always sweetened, quince takes on a rich, rosy color and a deliciously complex flavor, like an apple or pear but with hints of guava and pineapple. Most often seen as a paste to accompany Manchego cheese or in jams and jellies, Alice Waters offers this simple poaching recipe.
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