Eating Good Food, Indeed.

There is a man in my life these days who expresses the most enthusiastic murmurs and sighs while eating the food I make for him.

On a recent Friday night I found myself trying to contain a smile while spooning the most beautiful ruby red colored granita into my mouth, as he sat next to me and did the same. I love his audible sounds of pleasure and appreciation (and they're hardly overkill if you're picturing the scene from What About Bob? with Bill Murray and his cob of corn). In fact, if I was the noise-making type while eating, I would have been doing the exact same thing with this dessert. Rather, I sunk myself a little deeper into the couch, tucked my knees up, sighed in pleasure, and slowly spooned another bite of sweet yet tangy granita and vanilla bean gelato into my mouth, letting the flavors linger and slowly melt on my tongue.





About midway through the summer I finally claimed ownership of a copy of Bi-Rite Market's Eat Good Food. I've admired and appreciated Bi-Rite ever since I interned in San Francisco four summers ago. I still remember my first Sam's Sundae eating experience. The sun had set, and we were fully satisfied from sublime Delfina pizzas but still couldn't resist queuing up in the creamery's customary fashion for a final bite of something sweet and rich. The thought of bergamot olive oil and sea salt topping a scoop of ice cream was too intriguing to pass up, especially with my friend nudging me in the side that I should go for it, and it would rock my world. I ordered the sundae, and as dark chocolate ice cream with airy barely-sweet whipped cream and those two savory elements slid down my throat, my eyes were more widely opened to the possibilities within dessert creations.

I have made Eat Good Food my daily reading material during my dinner break at work. I have enjoyed being in no rush to get from page one to the end and the opportunity to cover each page of detailed education on produce, the butcher counter, dairy, and more and recipes to tuck away for as-soon-as-possible usage. It's an effortless choice to recommend and pass around to foodie friends or those desiring to broaden their education but needing an approachable while thorough place to start. I have already made my own adaptations of the almond cake, buttermilk cake, and turnover dough and been inspired by the lentil salad, gazpacho, and Sicilian meatballs.



Honestly, I picked the Blood Orange Granita recipe because the author, and Bi-Rite's owner, Sam Mogannam described it as "the sexiest slushy on earth", and it's just too tempting to return to those childhood loves - like artificially colored and flavored slushies in giant styrofoam cups - and redo them for an adult palate. And then, he also mentioned something reminiscent of a creamsicle when pairing the granita with vanilla ice cream and had me further hooked.

Unable to leave our dessert alone at that, I was scheming up possibilities for an additional element and decided this was the prime opportunity to try David Lebovitz's Italian Almond Cookies. So, the morning's project grew as I settled on this pairing of something sweet and almond-y to hold in one hand, let soften with vanilla-scented cream, and alternate with cold spoonfuls of citrus flavor. It was still a quick and simple endeavor and one that I was completely satisfied with aesthetically and in flavors.





Granita requires mild babysitting for a few hours, but otherwise it's an unbeatably easy desserts with a fanciful flair. Just make a simple syrup, combine it with your flavor elements (here, a whole lot of blood orange juice -- wear an apron for splatters, unless you have a better juicer than I or are more skilled at containing a mess). Ashley at Not Without Salt has a cream-based granita I'd love to try sometime. (And knowing how my boyfriend's eyes grow wide at any mention of coffee -- even if he's already had a few cups or it is getting late into the night -- I should probably get on this one.)

As for the cookies, they were an unsurprising winner. Conveniently gluten-free for those who need or prefer this, their soft gently almond-scented middles contrast perfectly with the crunchy exterior and would be just as lovely on their own or paired with a strong cup of espresso. I debated long over whether to use almonds or pine nuts, but for economic reasons, selected almonds this time.



Blood Orange Granita
Adapted from Bi-Rite Market's Eat Good Food

Makes 1/2 Quart
(enough for 5-6 servings)

You really can take this recipe many directions within the citrus realm, adjusting your sugar amount accordingly. I used mostly blood oranges with a few Cara Cara oranges to bring up my total juice volume. Also, one tablespoon of Cointreau went into the mix -- because who can resist?

3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon water
pinch kosher salt
1-1/8 cups freshly squeezed juice of blood oranges, tangerines, and/or other citrus varieties
1 tablespoon lemon juice
1 tablespoon Cointreau, or other complimentary liqueur (optional)

In a small saucepan, add the sugar and salt to the water and gently stir to blend. Cook over medium-high heat just until the crystals are dissolved.

Let cool slightly, then pour into a medium bowl with all citrus juices and Cointreau. Whisk ingredients together and pour into a glass storage container wide enough to spread the liquid to approximately an inch high.

Freeze uncovered until ice crystals start to form, about 1 hour. Stir the mixture with a fork to break up the crystals. Return to the freezer and stir every 30 minutes until the mixture is icy throughout (2-3 hours total, depending how diligent you are in keeping the crystals small).

Once the granita is thoroughly composed of small ice crystals, serve immediately or seal the container and store in the freezer for up to two weeks. Break up the mixture with a fork just before serving.


{When the sun goes down, the Instagram filters must go on.}

Italian Almond Cookies

I added a few drops of almond extract (a scant 1/4 teaspoon) for a more pronounced almond flavor. As for my apricot jam, I was too lazy to whiz it into perfect smoothness, so I whisked it up a good bit and then embraced the orange bits of apricot still peaking about the exterior of the dough; they melded into the whole by the end of baking.

Additionally, I made a half-recipe and got nine cookies out of it. (Egg whites weigh approximately 30 grams, so I used 45g.) Clearly my size was bigger than David's, still fitting easily within my palm but not classifiable as dainty. They barely spread, so I would recommend not shaping them so tall that their interiors aren't baked through before the edges have significantly browned; there should be a bit of moisture left in these cookies.

Find the cookie recipe in full over HERE at David Lebovitz's blog.

Seattle Spots in Good Company

Somehow I have made it into December without simmering a pot of cloves, anise, citrus peels, and bay leaves down into a sweet syrup and adding a few bottles of red wine to the pot until the liquid is steaming and aromatic, and there is mulled wine for all. It's such a lovely drink to gather around when in the kitchen on a cold evening, and everyone wants a hot mug to hold and a gentle warmth in their bellies. To me, it is the color and the smell of autumn and the Christmas season, and after writing these sentences, I'm quite ready to close my computer and go find myself some wine and spices.



Before I completely open the subject of holiday cookies, puddings, and pies, though, my mind is still on a few memorable restaurant experiences shared with a friend just a month ago.

Seattle is just far enough away to feel like a treat, and any sort of trip down there merits a good meal, but being in the big city and having a friend visiting from out of town, it can become quite hard to select just one (or two) good restaurants to dine at. We managed to eat at four different places in the course of two meals, and I think we were quite wisely restrained in this selection.

We hit our favorite spots, discovered one new one on our way back down to Seattle at the end of her visit, and garnered a lovely collection of photographs and memories our palates will remember for years to come.

First up: An early lunch at 11:30am at Oddfellow's Cafe. I ordered the grilled cheese sandwich with Manchego and a Tomato Onion Jam, and Lauren got the biscuit with scrambled eggs, Gruyere, and ham. Oh yes, and a bottle of Rachel's Ginger Beer to share.







Pre-dinner: This was actually unplanned, but while poking our heads into The Walrus and the Carpenter (just to let Lauren have a peek), we inquired on how long of a wait for two, mostly out of curiosity. When we found out there wasn't one, we couldn't pass up the opportunity to share some cozy space along the wall with a group of men slurping down oysters and tall glasses of beer. We ordered bread and butter, three oysters each, and a fruity but not-too-sweet cocktail to share (the Avenue West, I believe).







Aperitif: Wanting to save plenty of room for the dinner our mouths were already watering for next door, we put our names in at Delancey and then pulled ourselves up to the bar at Essex for Lauren to have her first experience in the whale-wallpaper bar sipping its exquisite cocktails. I had The Flaneur, which had Campari in it and was available on tap, and Lauren had their Autumn Sweater. Both very repeatable (as is the 70th Street Sour, as I know from my last visit, but you simply cannot go wrong with anything created by Essex's bartenders.)





Dinner: By the time dinner came, I was working with incredibly low light in their dining room, so I set aside my camera, and we simply sighed and savored every bite of the white pie we shared (and had topped with roasted delicata squash).

After getting in a lot of walking and a good hike in the following days, we were ready for a few more Seattle treats on the way back to SeaTac airport.

Thanks to Sara and Hugh's recommendation on their blog, The Sprouted Kitchen, we stopped at Revel in Fremont for lunch. My albacore tuna rice bowl with fennel kim chi was utterly satisfying, and I intend to drag my next willing companion there as soon as possible.



And since we hadn't squeezed in Molly Moon's yet, we simply had to make an ice cream stop for Salted Caramel before saying our farewells.



It's times like these that I am so grateful for the means to have these sweet occasions, for my tastebuds and the senses of sight and smell, and for the friends who so greatly enjoy good food, too.

But a World in You: Norwegian Apple Cake

You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not just live in a world but a world lives in you.
- Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth

Today I walked along the beach with Rangitoto to my left. Glittering water beneath a summer sun spread wide between islands and shorelines. And as my heels sunk into the sand with each wave that washed away my footing, I thought about all the salty ocean water that has romanced me.



Hawaiian waves were the first, faced in the safe grasp of my father or mother when my legs were still too wobbly and chunky, but even long after my baby fat was shed, my family would make our returns to Hawaii. Dad and I would slip out the back door together and cross the field to soft white sand and cool water for our early morning swim.

Years later I met the turquoise blue waters of the Mediterranean as they lapped against the stone wall on which I sat with an I "heart" Naxos sticker in my purse. Friends and I shared moments of awe and wonder from high on a ferry deck as we journeyed back to Athens, dark blue starry sky closing in on an orange sun that slipped beyond the horizon. Hundred Islands in the Philippines; Pacific waves that crash with Costa Rican flair; late night Mexican sand lit by beach fires and glowing cigars. Beaches along the Santa Barbara coast that acquired terms of endearment such as "good ol'" and "dear" refreshed my body and spirit, whether alone or bonding with new friends. There's homey Puget Sound, and there's the orange-lily-speckled Ibaraki coastline too.

I carry these images and memories in my heart, which tugs no less for the people with whom I shared each season than for the individual shorelines. Pebbles, shattered shells, black sand, and speckled white: I find pleasure in each circumstance and value in each face.

This little world living inside me, this world that Buechner speaks of, is indeed strongly comprised of people and places but it would not be complete without tastes. The taste of Norway on Christmas morning, India through friends' curries scooped up in wet orange fingers, Washington experienced in the sweetest of summer's berries and fall's apples.

And it's not all about geographical locations. It's about smelling coffee in the kitchen in the morning and thinking of my dad's espresso machine, eating leftover pear clafoutis with plain yogurt for breakfast and knowing my mother would have made extra for the exact same purpose, and it's about sitting down to a dinner without any vegetables in sight and wondering where the rest of the meal is. It's a marvel how much these stomach habits influence the psyche. Their disruption can depress, and their presence can comfort, restore, and inspire.

So it was that I was inspired in the making of this Norwegian Apple Cake. I was comforted in the process of halving crisp apples and turning their exposed pale faces down on the cutting board to be diced and swept into a pile on the side. I was restored in biting into something light and sweet and simple tasting that my own hands had made.

You see, I rarely spend time in the kitchen these days. And with that I have to say I miss it. I miss meal-planning and grocery shopping and knowing exactly what's going into my body. I miss the art and therapy and practicality of it all. But, in turn, I'm so grateful for the hospitality available to me in this season and will feel forever blessed by those who have opened their homes so freely to me.

Thus we return to the cake. (Sorry, this is what happens when I go too long without visiting this blog -- my fingers run away with me.) Mainly, what I'm wanting to say is that this cake was lovely. It puffed up airily in the oven and then settled into itself for a thin eggy inside and lightly crunchy top. The apples are the structure of the cake because the batter is thick and minimal in ratio, but if you use the back of a spatula it will spread out well enough in the bottom of your pan and all come together in the heat of the oven.





My accompaniment to this cake was a barely sweetened cardamom whipped cream. I wanted to emphasis the Nordic origin of the cake since it was being served at an international dinner and knew the warming presence of cardamom (so reminiscent of my grandmother's Christmas cookies) would pair well with apple. I got generous compliments on both and will be making this cake again. It's just the sort of thing that can cross over into breakfast the next day, like a proper fruit-filled crisp (or the aforementioned clafoutis).

I found the recipe on a brilliant food blog called Everybody Likes Sandwiches, which features a promising looking coconut bread recipe in the same post. And I must include the blog she got the original recipe for Norwegian Apple Cake from, as it is equally brilliant and lovely: Bunny Pie.

Recipe link: Norwegian Apple Cake.

Three Lemons Make a Loaf

While this blog has diffused over the last several months into less and less of a food-centric blog, that has not necessarily meant that my activity in the kitchen has ceased. I'd never allow that to happen. But it certainly has declined.

Having just counted up the weeks since I arrived here in New Zealand (Eight! It's been eight weeks! I've been telling everyone five.) and then tacking on the ten days of road-tripping prior to our departure, I haven't been in a familiar kitchen since August 30th.

No wonder I was starting to get antsy for the browning of onions, drizzling of olive oil, creaming of butter and sugar, and the habit of a watchful eye on the oven.

I've made a few cakes for events and put together individual lunches but only enough to count on my fingers, and that's more than slightly out of the ordinary. My old ordinary anyway. Being in a home-stay situation for three months means that I'm getting to experience the hospitality of initial strangers, and I am so thankful for having been invited into family rituals such as the sharing of food. At times sitting down to a communal meal is far more important (and delicious) than having put together my favorite salad or soup.



While at a friend's last week, I noticed her two lemon trees full of large sunny yellow fruit. As I made my selection from the tree branches, I couldn't help smelling the sweet skin of each beautiful citrus. There's no comparing these and the thin-skinned ones at the supermarket.

I decided to modify a favorite recipe for these lemons. I had noted the suggestion of substituting lemons when I first read the recipe but always stuck with oranges, sometimes the Cara Cara variety. Making the switch to lemons proved entirely worthwhile. I held off on the suggested glaze until tasting the loaf (yes, I used a long, skinny loaf pan lined with baking paper instead), and I was glad to discover that the additional sugar wasn't necessary.

Everyone seemed to love this loaf and commented on its moistness. I love the visible bits of rind in each slice from coarsely mincing the boiled lemons. Bonus: it is gluten-free and dairy (not egg) free with very little fat.



If you're making it for an event, just be sure to give the cake/loaf a day for the flavors to brighten. If there's no particular occasion, do your best to practice self-control and save at least half for the next couple days. The taste will only improve.

Photos of my previous versions are here and here.
Recipe found here.

Just melt and flake and crumble

Last weekend I got one of the best gifts ever. It was especially, well, special because the Foodzie mail I was expecting was a work assignment. Though that was still an exciting prospect, finding a note of thanks and encouragement from my team over at Foodzie and an assortment of goodies was a wonderful surprise. They had sent me a finals week care package full of treats from La Cocina!



Just an recap if you missed my post a while back...I've been interning remotely for Foodzie, a San Francisco based company passionate about seeing artisan food producers and growers succeed while also helping food lovers find the unique items they're looking for. I love what they do and who they are, and apparently others have noticed too because they were recently recognized by BusinessWeek among the Best Young Tech Entrepreneurs of 2009!

So, when I opened the box and zig-zaggy strips of stuffing began to fall out and reveal cookies, preserves, and glorious nuts, I stopped to grab my camera. I knew this would be a blog-worthy subject.

I spent the next half hour (at least) opening each package and placing its contents on my coffee table facing the afternoon sunlight. Sometimes nibbling was required to get a more interesting photo, so I got to try a little taste of each treat as I went.

I hope to share with you many of these delicious goodies available from La Cocina, but tonight I only have time for one. It is the one that ended up disappearing completely by the end of the photo shoot. Though everything was memorable in its own right, I kept coming back to this buttery shortbread cookie.



So much more than a cookie, Clairesquares' take on Millionaire's shortbread, or a Wellington -- its name in her native Ireland -- is addictive to say the least. Each layer could stand on its own (if you're into dipping your finger into straight caramel or licking a surface of pure Belgian chocolate). The shortbread might be more polite to consume alone. Just snag some fresh off the cooling rack in Claire's kitchen. I wish I could myself; it really did just melt and flake and crumble all at once in my mouth like truly decent shortbread should.

This cookie is available in each of La Cocina's sampler boxes, which are perfect for treating yourself to a variety of artisan producers' creations or expressing a heart-felt thank you to a friend. From smallest to largest, you can choose the Teaspoon Box, Half-Pint Box, Quart-Sized Box, or Stock-Pot Box.

Good Company

I really need to work on my portrait photography skills.

You see, as good as this apple galette was, the company I shared it with was ten times better.



I have to say, this batch of pâte brisée was my third attempt in the past four or so months, and it finally came together well enough to serve without apologies.

I may not be so confident in my painting skills right now, and the details of early 20th century architecture and furnishings may be alluding me, but at least I can make a mean pâte brisée. So all is well with the world, right? Wrong, but let's just pretend for a moment.

This weekend I'm heading out of town, and I'm looking forward to the wonderful company I'll get to share, which I'm sure will be accompanied by wonderful food. But it's the people who will make each meal memorable.

I can't wait to see you, Lauren!