A "Petit" Déjeuner in the Very Literal Sense

It is a fairly well established fact that the French do not screw around when it comes to food. I can hardly blame them. If I had my own country, it also would probably have lots of good food and lots of vacation days. It's not a bad way to be. If you ignore all the other social, political, and economic issues, of course.

One of the things I love most about French food is how it repeatedly and excellently elevates the humble to the sublime. Is there anything better than sitting outside a cafe on a sunny day with a fresh crusty baguette smeared with a dab of ripe, semi-stinky cheese, accompanied by a glass of chilled rosé and some delightful company? I think not.

I am not entirely sure where I heard about the classically French combination of radishes with sea salt and butter but I am a convert. It's not so much a recipe as an assemblage of four simple components: radishes, thinly sliced - it helps to have a mandoline for this and if you do, set it to 1/8"; baguette, also sliced; softened (but not melted) butter, ideally President if you really want to be authentic but good unsalted American butter will do; and fleur de sel, the kind of sea salt you can crunch up between your fingers. I like Maldon.

I can't eat a radish without thinking of Nana, who always, ALWAYS, had them thinly sliced in the green salad she served alongside dinner. I have always loved the freshness and crunch of radishes although I will say this recipe works slightly better with the milder spring radishes than the heartier fall ones. The fall ones have a bit more bite. Nevertheless, if you like radishes, you can solve this seasonal issue with just a tad more butter and salt.

Assembly of this little lunch treat is as follows:

1. Spread baguette slice with butter. You want it to be visible on the bread like a spread, not scraped into the crumb. But not too generous with the butter or it'll kill the flavor of everything else.

2. Sprinkle fleur de sel over the butter, crunching up the little salt pyramid-flakes into smaller bits. If you don't know what I am talking about you are not using the right salt. You can certainly try this with kosher salt or sea salt ground from a salt grinder but I can't promise it will taste as it should. Please do not use normal iodized salt. In a dish with so few ingredients, the quality of each matters that much more, so I am going to be unapologetically snobbish about this salt thing.

3. Layer the radishes on top. Just one layer is fine, with a little overlap. Press them gently into the butter.

4. Take a bite. If the flavors do not wow you, try a little more salt on the next one. You'll know when you have the right proportions because it will be delicious. It's an art, not a science.



 A perfect little Saturday lunch.



One Benefit of Adulthood

Is that you can eat what you want, when you want. Tonight for dinner I had cookies. Yes, for dinner. I know it was dinner because the cookies were accompanied by a glass of wine. And I was seated. Food + wine + a seat = dinner.

It was just one of those days. And I wanted to cook. Luckily, God presented me with the most painfully boring conference call I've been on in...oh...years. (Thanks, buddy!) I therefore had plenty of time to read my RSS feeds. One of these is The Kitchn via Apartment Therapy, which usually overwhelms me because at any one time there are 60+ new posts in the feed list. Information overload for sure.

However, today, I had nothing but time, sweet time. And I ran across this. Can you say yum?
I thought you could.

Having been burned before, I called Whole Foods in advance to confirm that they did actually stock sweetened condensed milk. Despite not having marshmallows, they do apparently carry preserved sugar-milk in a can and acted like I was an idiot for asking. Whatever, Whole Foods.

Here's the recipe. It does indeed make 4 dozen. Unless you eat 3 cookies' worth of dough. And then it makes 45. (It does, however, make a LOT more of the fudge than you need, just so you know.) Don't try to use all the fudge. Just like Brylcreem, a little dab will do ya.

Peanut Butter & Fudge Oatmeal Cookies
from TheKitchn.com



4 dozen cookies
1/2 cup unsalted butter, very soft
1 1/2 cups creamy peanut butter
1 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup white sugar
3 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla
4 1/2 cups old-fashioned oats
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups chocolate chips
One 14-ounce can sweetened condensed milk




Preheat oven to 350°F and line two large cookie sheets with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, mix the butter, peanut butter, and sugars. (You can use beaters, but it's easiest to just vigorously mix by hand.) (KATE'S NOTE: I am all for artisanal methods but the author of this recipe clearly needs to lay off the 'roids. Don't be hero: use a mixer, either hand or stand, to cream the sugars and butters. It does a better job of incorporating the butter.)  Mix in eggs and vanilla until thoroughly incorporated. Add the oats, baking soda, and salt, and mix thoroughly. Refrigerate the dough while preparing the fudge topping.

Mix the chocolate chips and sweetened condensed milk in a small saucepan. Warm over low heat, stirring frequently, until the chocolate is completely melted. Stir vigorously to make sure the mixture is evenly mixed. Turn off the burner under the chocolate.

In-process chocolate mixture. I never said these cookies were good for you.
Although the can of sweetened condensed milk does try to claim it is a good source of calcium.

 Remove the dough from the refrigerator and roll half of it into walnut-sized balls, pressing each one semi-flat on the cookie sheet. Top each ball of dough with a teaspoon of the warm chocolate mixture.

Bake the cookies for 10 minutes or until just golden around the edges. (Mine took twelve.) Remove from the oven and let cool on the sheets for a few minutes until they have firmed up enough to remove to wire racks. (You can remove the entire sheet of parchment paper and move the cookies to the rack in that way.)

Repeat with the remaining dough and fudge topping. (Warm and stir the chocolate over low heat if it has hardened too much to scoop.) Store the cooled cookies in an airtight container for up to 5 days.



Peanut butter and fudge. It's what's for dinner.



Noodling and Why I Save Ribbon

My cooking experience falls dramatically, woefully short when confronted by the many wonderful Asian cuisines. I have most of Europe down fairly well and can handle standard American fare, but pick a culture anywhere in Asia and odds are I have never even attempted to make even something simple from its rich culinary offerings. I don't think steaming a bag of frozen dumplings or boiling edamame counts as "cooking".

I am not normally the kind of person who tries out recipes in advance. I prefer to trust that whatever I make will be mostly edible and just go with it. Sometimes I'm wrong. But most of the time it all turns out fine. I do not believe in stressing out over cooking.

However, I had to take a different approach for the appetizer I made for the engagement party we threw for Christine and Kevin. We settled on a Chinese-Italian theme, with touches of Ohio, where they both grew up. I really wanted to make Chinese-inspired noodles and put them in Chinese takeout boxes, served with chopsticks. Having never made these before, I decided I would commit to them and then figure it out. Because cooking with these flavors is foreign to me (no pun intended), the week saw me testing several sesame noodle recipes, from here, here and here, in preparation for Saturday. In the end, I devised my own recipe, using bits of each, plus my own twist.

Kate's Sesame Noodles

Serves 6 as an appetizer or 4 as a meal

Ingredients
1 lb brown rice spaghetti or vermicelli (I think you can probably also use normal pasta but I didn't try that myself.)
2 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons tahini (sesame) paste
3 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons toasted (dark) sesame oil, divided
1 garlic clove, minced
1 tablespoon honey
2 teaspoons sriracha sauce (I love how widely available this has become. Look at Target or World Market if it's not at your grocery store. You can also use chili-garlic sauce or a smaller quantity of chili oil, or even Tabasco.)
3 scallions, trimmed and very finely sliced to within
1 tablespoon toasted sesame seeds

Directions
1. Cook the noodles in a large pot of boiling, salted water. Stir them frequently for the first few minutes of cooking, otherwise they clump together. Cooking will probably take about 10 minutes. Test often after 8 minutes as you'll want to drain them while they are still toothsome but also fully cooked. (A little past al dente, whether you are using rice noodles or wheat noodles.)

2. While the noodles are boiling, whisk together all other ingredients except the scallions in a large bowl. 

3. Drain the noodles and rinse well under cold water. This is essential, so don't skip it. Otherwise the noodles are starchy and sticky and form a glutinous mass when combined with the sauce. Not good.

4. Dump the noodles into the sauce bowl. It's ok if they are a little wet. Toss the noodles with tongs so that the sauce gets fully distributed among them. All noodles should be completely coated.

5. Toss in most of the scallions (reserve a tablespoon or so) and re-toss with the tongs.

6. Serve in a bowl (or takeout container!) with chopsticks, sprinkling  the sesame seeds and some of the reserved scallions on top to garnish.


I am told that sticking the chopsticks in the food like this means "death" in Chinese culture.
Oops. So much for cultural sensitivity. I loved the presentation!

On a largely unrelated note, I thought it would be nice to have a rustic-elegant look for the food table so I got a bunch of sunflowers. I love fresh flowers. Always have. Always will. Any excuse to buy some flowers and I'm on it. Sunflowers I find somewhat challenging from a styling perspective because they are so stalky and top-heavy. I'm pretty pleased with my display solution here. The vase is actually a plastic pasta storage container, minus the lid. It's tall and sturdy enough to contain the sunflowers without tipping. 

My only challenge then was that the stalks were ugly. After brainstorming various solutions (sliced lemons, sliced limes, sliced oranges, berries, etc.) I decided I wanted something green (so as not to compete with the flower color) and something cheap that I could put in the vase to conceal them. Whole Foods presented me with some gigantic collard green leaves and a solution was born. I'm so pleased with the result, which was achieved by trimming and wrapping a single huge collard leaf around the stems, then putting the leaf-stem bundle in the vase and adding water. Keeping the ribbon super long lends a tiny bit of extravagance.

The ribbon, purchased at Perennials in Evanston, and previously worn as a dress sash at the Kellogg 2009 Charity Auction Ball ("A Black and White Gala"), is a leftover from my ribbon stash.

Never throw away good ribbon. It's a motto to live by.


I love how this looks with Blake and Britta's creamy yellowy dining room wall
and framed butterfly prints as a backdrop.



My Favorite Breakfast

I've had strong opinions about things, both culinary and otherwise, from a very young age. For example, I absolutely refused to wear pants until I was in the second grade. To be clear, I was always wearing dresses and skirts, not going pants-less. I would also deign to wear shorts as long as they were not too boyish or sporty. Culottes were another acceptable option. But not pants. Never pants.

I also refused to eat peanut butter and jelly. I know. What kid doesn't eat PB&J? But I had lots of issues with it, structurally and otherwise. I loved to eat fresh fruit but hated the gooey, excessive sweetness of fruit concentrated into jam or jelly. It's also gross how the jelly always makes the one piece of bread soggy, and I honestly was never a rabid fan of peanut butter like other kids. Its heady scent was always a little much for me. But I am happy to report tha as I've aged, I've learned to appreciate salty-sweet combinations and finally had my first PB&J at age 30. Luckily this moment was recorded for posterity.

The other day I channeled the spirit of the good old PB&J and built what has become my new favorite breakfast: peanut butter (or almond butter) and fresh fruit on a rice cake. The fruit is interchangeable, but I've found that I prefer to use fruits which tend to make tasty jams - two favorite variations being figs and raspberries. This brand makes my favorite rice cakes (and that is certainly a statement I never thought I'd utter) because they are not too dense but still fresh and crunchy. It's worth picking up a sleeve if you can find them - they make an excellent base for all kinds of snacks and mini-meals.




I love love love figs.



Sponges and Beaches

It has been 50+ days without wheat (except for one small lapse at a wedding dessert buffet which only confirmed that wheat = bad for me.) It is starting to feel like forever. It's been remarkably easy - much easier than I would have initially thought - to cut out this entire category of foods.

The real problem with this allergy is that the 30 years of baking experience I have under my belt is basically now worthless. I have been turned upside down. I am beginning to understand why people my age who haven't grown up cooking alongside their parents, grandparents, etc are now completely daunted by cooking. Every recipe in my newly acquired Gluten Free Baking Classics book requires at least 3 kinds of flour, plus xanthan gum. And that's just for the basics. Don't even get me started on what's required if yeast is involved.

Incidentally, I feel that while on this topic a PSA is due: Don't spill xanthan gum on the counter. Or anywhere. That is easier said than done, as xanthan gum is highly powdery and just transferring it into a storage container almost ensures you will unleash a plume of white powder that evokes suspicious envelopes and ticking packages. Xanthan gum, required in small amounts in wheat-free items to provide structure that you normally get from gluten, becomes instantly, viciously viscous when put in contact with water, making it about as hard to clean up as egg white dropped on the floor. (And if you've never done that, trust me. Or try it.)

Completely overwhelmed, I bought a gluten-free flour blend at Whole Foods made by King Arthur that had approximately the same ingredients as GFBC says you should have in each recipe. This was my first mistake.
GFBC explicitly says that there is exactly ONE brand of flour that is acceptable because all other gluten-free flour blends lend themselves to gritty end products. However, this blend is unavailable in Northern California except for one little hippie co-op somewhere in Napa. Guess where I'm not driving to get some flour, for God's sake. Napa.

The bad news is that GFBC seems to be telling the truth, because the King Arthur didn't quite work as expected. Looks like I will be sucking it up and buying the super-refined brown rice flour online as instructed.

I decided to put this flour to the test with a GFBC recipe for Chocolate-Ricotta Muffins. I love chocolate and ricotta, so figured this was probably a good place to start.

In the end, the chocolate chips in this recipe are the primary redeemer. That, and heat. When these muffins are hot - ideally right out of the oven, but an oven reheating will also suffice, they are pretty tasty. When they are cold, well, let's just say I'd rather eat other things.

At least they look semi-normal. They were, admittedly, a bit spongy. Not in a sponge cake way. More like a Cell-O brand sponge way.

The second item, made simultaneously, was a fresh mozzarella and heirloom tomato tart modeled after this recipe on Epicurious. I had fantastic heirlooms and two giant bunches of basil from the farm box and all needed to be used up. Seemed like a perfect solution.

GFBC had a recipe for a tart crust. Only problem: the recipe was written for a sweet, not a savory, tart crust. I made a few substitutions (omitted the sugar, added parmesan and black pepper) and I thought I was in good shape. I par-baked the crust, and it came out looking normal, if a little crumbly.

Per the normal recipe instructions, I layered in the cheese, the homemade pesto, and the tomatoes. The tart looked beautiful.


The tomatoes from my farm box were just absolutely perfect.

It is at this point in the story that I am reminded of a moment from my childhoold. When I was three years old, in our Evanston townhouse, I used to paint watercolors with my stepdad. Not, mind you, with that strip of Crayola watercolors that you probably used at school. You know the ones - the "yellow" was never yellow, but usually some shade of hideous army green because of all the dumb kids who didn't clean their brushes well between colors, ruining the yellow for everyone. No, those were not real watercolors. We had actual art-store watercolor paper and the little tubes of pigment that you have to mix on a palette. Yes, I was three. I remember one particular painting I was really adding quite a lot of brushstrokes to and my dear stepdad observed that the difference between artists and non-artists is that "artists know when to stop." Truly, those are words I have remembered my entire life. They come back to me periodically at unusual times, like an old friend.

Unfortunately, they did not come back to me during the creation of this tart.
This is precisely the moment when the wheels came off.

I decided I wanted something pizza-y and threw the whole thing back in the oven to melt the cheese. The last-minute roasting at 425 had the unintended consequence of causing both the tomatoes and the cheese to give off all their liquid. Right into my lovely tart crust.

I brought the tart over to our usual Sunday football-watching venue (friends' house) and by the time I got there (one block away), it had given off at least a quarter-cup of liquid. Possibly a third. I actually had to drain it in the sink.

Surprisingly, it sliced nicely, but the crust was complete mush. The tomatoes and cheese and pesto were delicious and the crust tasted a little bit like what I imagine licking a Bermudan beach might be like. Only with better flavor. I will say this: the crust tasted good. But the gritty-pasty texture was really so terrible that you couldn't get past it.

I made an appointment with the allergist for Friday. Wondering if maybe I can get allergy shots for this wheat thing...

P.S. A special shout out to taste-testers Mer, Kevin, and Alex for sampling the above goods and not gagging. Audibly.



A Belated Labor Day Post

Remember Labor Day? Feels like years ago, doesn’t it?

This past Labor Day, we had quite the feast. That’s what happens when any one of my friends invites us all over for a “potluck.” There is always more food and drink to go around and we generally do a fairly good job polishing it all off. That’s just one reason why I love my friends so much.

I also love the idea of a feast. Harkening back to boyfriends of years past, one time I was on the hook for an Easter brunch because my boyfriend-at-the-time, B, and I both decided to spend our Easter locally rather than traveling home to either of our respective Catholic families. Not because we really wanted to celebrate Easter together but because we were too poor to afford plane tickets. Ah, the good old days.

Anyway, between the two of us, I was the cook (and the maid, and the personal assistant, and the book editor, and the laundrywoman, but I digress). I asked B what he wanted for Easter brunch since I thought it would be nice to include some of his family traditions as well as mine (smoked salmon on bagels, bunny biscotti). His response: “I want a FEAST.”

Well, B and I went our separate ways years ago, but the concept of a feast has suck with me. I love a feast. Feasts are hearty and celebratory. They make me think of meat on the bone, of things you eat with your hands, of abundance in every wonderful way.

My contributions to the semi-recent Labor Day Feast were thus: two kinds of kielbasa “bites” with spicy brown mustard (inspired by the MOST delicious appetizer at Holly and Scott's wedding in Pittsburgh) and these delicious figs. Hope you can enjoy them before figs leave us completely for the season.

Fresh Figs with Goat Cheese and Peppered Honey
This recipe is adapted from Bon Appetit.
 
Makes about 20 hors d'oeuvres
 
Ingredients
 
1/4 cup honey


3/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
4 oz fresh goat cheese
1 tablespoon milk or cream
1 pint fresh figs, tiny stems trimmed, and cut into halves (or quarters, if really large). I prefer Calimyrna (aka Turkish or Green) figs for this recipe, but you can also use Mission or Brown Turkey figs
 
 Directions
 
1. Prepare the honey - combine the honey and black pepper in a small bowl or custard cup and let sit while you prepare the other ingredients.
2. In another small bowl, combine the goat cheese with the milk and blend/mash with a fork until smooth. (Alternatively, you can just use Chavrie goat cheese for this recipe and skip the milk.)
3. Spoon the cheese into a sandwich bag and snip off about 1/8 inch of one bottom corner of the bag. You should be able to pipe the cheese out the bag corner.
4. Lay the figs, cut side up, on a serving platter. Pipe a bit of cheese on top of each cut fig. You're going for a healthy dollop - slightly less than a tablespoon.
5. Once you have piped all the figs with cheese, use a spoon to drizzle the honey over the top of each fig. You should be able to see the honey on the cheese.
6. Serve immediately. This recipe does not keep, as the figs will begin to "weep" and make fig-puddles on the plate. That's just as well, as you will find these are hard to resist.
 

Festive flags optional.

Hot! Too Hot!

It's hot here in San Francisco today. Really, legitimately, hot. Wish-I-had-air-conditioning-at-home-and-at-work hot. Dark-Helmet-drinking-coffee hot.

Hot enough, really, that all I want to eat is cold food. It is in this sweaty spirit that I share with you one of my favorite no-cook recipes.

Kate's Provencal Tuna Salad

Serves 1
Prep Time: 10 minutes unless your knives are dull

Ingredients
1 3 oz. pouch of chunk light tuna PLUS 1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil OR 1 can of really good tuna packed in olive oil, drained well and blotted with paper towels
zest of 1/4 lemon (about a teaspoon or two) (see notes)
1 tablespoon capers, drained
1/3-1/2 cup ripe tomato, chopped (see notes)
1/4 cup coarsely chopped flat leaf parsley
6-8 oil cured black olives, pitted and coarsely chopped  (see notes)
Salt and freshly ground pepper

Directions
Flake the tuna into a bowl, adding the olive oil if not oil-packed. Add everything else except the salt and pepper and mix with a fork. Add salt and pepper to taste - you will mostly likely want at least 1/4 teaspoon of each to make the flavor really come out. Let sit for 5-10 minutes, either in the fridge or on the counter, to help the flavors blend.

Notes:
Lemon zest - Do yourself a favor and buy a microplane grater. If you don't have one, use a paring knife to peel off the zest, then slice it into strips and chop it very finely.
Tomatoes- Any variety will do, but if they are not in season, use grape tomatoes
Olives - You can sub kalamatas in this if you are a pansy, but I strongly prefer the punch the oil-cured olives add to the mix

Serve any of the following ways:
Salad: Put in a bowl. Eat with a fork.
Sandwich: This is great on toasted multi-grain bread or stuffed in a warmed whole wheat pita pocket
Peasant-style: Add some boiled, chilled, coarsely chopped red or fingerling potatoes (you'll also need to add a bit more olive oil and salt)
Fancy: Lop the top off a fist-sized tomato, hollow it out and stuff it with this. Stick a parsley sprig in the top.

A Hook Problem

Almost exactly nine years ago, my dear dad and I drove the long, flat, boring road from Chicago to Austin in my move to Texas. Of course, once we got to Austin and unpacked Vinny (my car), we made a trip to The Container Store, or, as Dad likes to refer to it, Anal-Retentive Heaven.

As anyone who has moved all of their wordly belongings out of state knows, moves are hard. They're stressful.

In the midst of such stress (mostly on my part), we found ourselves wandering the aisles of The Container Store at the Austin Arboretum. As lost people are wont to do, we were going up and down every aisle in the store to make sure we weren't forgetting anything. I don't know how familiar you are with The Container Store but their employees are aggressively friendly. This one saleswoman, who looked a little too much like the cartoon Cathy come to life, just would not take a hint and leave us alone. She must have asked us if we needed help, oh, 4 or 5 times. In the span of 20 minutes. We didn't need help the first time she asked and we didn't need help the fifth.

As we meandered down the hook aisle, Cathy pounced once again.

"Can I help you with a hook problem?"

It was all we could do not to laugh in her face. A hook problem? How do you have a hook problem?
Like this?

Which brings us to today.

In the move to reorganize and clean out my apartment and make better use of my "storage room," I am now trying to be super-efficient with my closet space across the board. Sadly, my dining table leaf has been left without a home in the new storage room layout. It has taken up residence in the hallway - obviously not a long-term solution. I was excited to discover it actually fits in my linen closet, but only if I find another home for the ironing board. Brainstorming space solutions, I realized that if I hung the ironing board on the closet door, my leaf storage problem might be solved.

I decided to try ready-made options first in my quest to hang the board. I picked up one of these handy dandy things at Bed Bath and Beyond, but it didn't really work because a) I didn't need storage for the iron, just the board, b) my iron didn't fit that nicely in the holder because it's too big, and c) I would have had to install this on the thinnest part of my door because the charming "architectural detail" prevents me from installing it at the top, where it's the thickest.

I really just needed to mount the bottom part of the iron & board holder on the door but couldn't do that without adding ugly washers to the scenario to keep the molded hook thing that came with the kit on the door. As a firm believer in the balance of form and function, I nixed that option.

Then I realized there must be hooks out there in the world that I could install on the top of the door to hang the ironing board. I dug through my hardware box and assorted existing selection of hooks, but none quite fit around the ironing board leg. Next best option was a trip to my trusty local hardware store (the kind of old school place that's just filled with so many parts and bits that it's almost impossible to find anything unless you ask) and came home with a few prospective solutions.

In the end, the simplest option worked best. Look how spiffy my ironing board (with awesome cover from the DeKalb, IL TJ Maxx) looks now. And now the table leaf is no longer in the hallway. I'm so very pleased.

The Emerald City

Sorry for the lack of posting last week. I decided to take an impromptu trip up to Seattle to visit Chrissy and Will and the kids. I had an amazing time and truly felt like I was unplugged and on vacation. Thanks guys!

Here are a few photos from the trip. I apparently didn't take pictures at the beach, on our nature hikes, in the living room of the fort/house I constructed out of pillows, chairs, and blankets with the kids, etc.

At the Salmon Locks. Note little J's fab sunglasses!

The salmon have a "ladder" that helps them swim upstream despite the large dam in place.

Posted at the Edmonds Farmers' Market.
I wish they also had people rules, especially #1.
Why is that just for dogs?

It didn't photograph well, but this is an incredible copper backsplash on the bar at Still where we stopped for a pre-dinner cocktail before heading to kid-free dinner at Sitka and Spruce. Dinner was FANTASTIC. If you are in Seattle, go there!

The site of (Adult) Girls Day Out. So fun!

Proof that cheap dime-store foil Christmas tree garland can be totally fabulous.

 

This was our attempt to acquire "pre-owned" cheese at a discount.
We failed. (We got there just as they were closing the doors.)

The other thing I forgot to mention is that Chrissy has become a master baker of gluten-free breads. So I was treated to actual bread this weekend which was fantastic. Thanks Chrissy!

This weekend is going to be three whole days at home with (I hope) lots of time to work on projects. Hopefully will have more posts to share soon.

Brilliant Bookcases

I grew up around a lot of books. Literally thousands. (Haha.) Book storage was a constant problem (or, as we like to say at work: "opportunity"). I have carried this love of books into my adult life and have tried to be diligent about recycling all but the most precious of them. Currently my collection fills about one and a half large bookcases. Could be worse, believe me.

But while some consider them "clutter," I love the design element that books add to a room. That's right, books are not just for reading. We are talking brains and beauty in the same package. If they are styled right, of course.

Recently, I stumbled upon this blog which has a fantastic collection of bookcase solutions to browse.

All these great pics have the wheels turning in my head since I'll need to figure out some new book solutions soon. As part of the Great Furniture Rearrangement currently underway in my apartment, the bookcases presently in the back half of the living room are going to have to be relocated or removed entirely. Hmmm...

Getting Creative in the Kitchen

This post might get a little TMI-y. Sorry in advance.

About a year ago I visited my allergist, who informed me that I'm allergic to wheat. In fact, when they tested me, it was one of the things I was allergic to most (along with grass, dust mites, and rabbits.) Of course, I've been eating wheat, oh, for 31 years with no apparent side effects. I basically ignored this information, although I did think it odd that I got a little congested when eating sandwiches. But whatever, right? It's not like my throat was closing up or something. And then, out of the blue this past Monday, it occurred to me that maybe the reason I have such a sensitive GI tract (I wish I could just say "stomach," but it's really the whole system that seems to be screwed up) is the wheat. This inspiration came after I felt like crap after my lunchtime sandwich - which was on a (gasp) wheat baguette.

Maybe so, maybe not. The only way I'm going to figure this out is by trying it. So I decided go wheat-free for 2 weeks to see how I feel. No time like the present.

I invented this wheat-free recipe on Monday because I had an eggplant, some zucchini, and some tomatoes that I needed to use courtesy of the farm box. The inspiration for my recipe came from here, but barley is a food I'm not supposed to eat, so I had to get creative. I considered using quinoa but I thought the grains would be too small and weird when combined with the chunky vegetables. Here's the result - pretty tasty!

It tastes better than it looks.

Eggplant, Zucchini, and Chickpea Salad
Makes 4 servings

Ingredients
Roasted Vegetables
1 medium sized eggplant (1 to 1 1/2 lbs), cut into 1/2 inch cubes
2 medium sized zucchini (3/4 lb), cut into 1/2 inch cubes
1 red onion, peeled, cut crosswise, then each half cut into quarters
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground pepper

Chickpeas
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
3/4 cup chopped scallion (white and green parts)
3/4 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/8 teaspoon ground cayenne
1/2 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1 can chickpeas, drained and rinsed

Dressing and Extras
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
large pinch of kosher salt
large pinch of freshly ground pepper
pinch of sugar

1 medium tomato, cored, seeded and chopped
about 12 kalamata olives, pitted and roughly chopped
1 cup chopped flat-leaf parsley
1/4 lb ricotta salata, chopped or sliced thinly

Directions
Make the Roasted Vegetables
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F. Combine veggies, salt, pepper, and oil, and toss to combine. Spread on a large rimmed baking sheet and roast for 20-30 minutes until vegetables are browned and a little shrively. (Start checking at 15.) Remove from oven and set aside. When the vegetables are cool enough to handle, remove the onions and chop them roughly into bite-size pieces. Add back to pan and set aside.

Cook the Chickpeas
Meanwhile, heat the oil over medium-high heat in a medium skillet, saute pan, or sauce pan until shimmering but not smoking. Add the scallions and spices, and stir until fragrant (about a minute). Add the drained chickpeas and stir for 2 minutes until coated by the spices. Turn down the heat to medium and add the chicken broth. Simmer until very little broth remains (about 1 tablespoon total). Remove from heat and set aside.

Make the dressing
Whisk together lemon juice, oil, garlic, sugar salt and pepper.

Finish the salad
In a large bowl, combine the roasted veggies, chickpeas and their sauce, tomatoes, olives, and parsley. Toss to combine. Add the dressing and toss again to coat. Sprinkle the cheese on top.

Can be served hot from the oven, warm, or cold.

One Disaster After Another

You know how in the post about the Salted Caramel Squares I talked about how I'm not such a great baker? I wasn't being modest.

This past weekend I baked up some cupcakes to celebrate Blake and Britta's 5th Anniversary. Let me take a moment to quantify "some." Some = 6 dozen. It should have only been 3 dozen, but I screwed them up. Apparently two of my three cupcake/muffin pans bake this recipe a lot faster than the recipe indicates. Which left me with a first batch of 2 dozen inedibly burnt and 1 dozen perfect white cupcakes.

Left - burnt. Right - perfect.

The photo doesn't even really do these justice. The bottoms of the burnt cupcakes are actually black and carbon-y. The burnt cupcake wrapper and the burnt bottom of the cake are one black, flaky mess. Gross.
So I baked up a second batch of cupcakes. Even though I took them out a lot sooner, I still had a few unacceptably darkened bottoms, but in the end, there were enough cupcakes for the party.

Then it was time to move onto the frosting. I selected a vanilla buttercream because I wanted them to look wedding-y for this wedding-themed party. Somehow, the buttercream was another fail. I don't know how, but when it was done, it tasted like butter. Not like vanilla. I ended up dumping about a cup and a half of powdered sugar and at least 2 tablespoons of vanilla and Grand Marnier in an attempt to give the frosting a flavor other than butter. No dice. With no ingredients left to work with, I gave up and piped the cupcakes.

While I was piping frosting onto the cupcakes, I heard a crazy loud crash followed by a louder crash. Outside the window seen below, there was a huge accident in the intersection, and one car had hit the building diagonally across the street from mine after hitting the other car.

So I called 911. Amazingly, the driver whose car was stopped by a large apartment building was fine, despite having to be cut out of the car by the fire department. People, this is why you wear seatbelts. This is the fourth accident I have witnessed in this intersection in the past year. SFers, be warned.

Anyhow, this was the final result. Cake: 9/10, Frosting 3/10 (would be a 2 but the sprinkles were tasty).

Oh, and here's the recipe for the cupcakes. I always trust Martha Stewart recipes for baking - every recipe comes out perfect (pan issue not withstanding). I'm not posting the frosting recipe. Next time, I'll just use The Cake Bible, which is what I should have done in the first place.

Sneak Peek

Here's a sneak peek of a project yet to come, courtesy of the fabulous M&J Trimming, where I wandered over to after work a couple of nights ago.

That flowered embroidered trim cost a pretty penny, let me tell you. Why do I always like the expensive stuff?

Indecent Exposure

One day last week I woke up and blearily wandered out of my bedroom and into my bathroom. I sat down on the toilet. I looked up.

And here was what I saw:

Logic follows that if I can see this dude, he can probably see me. Wearing something not fit for public consumption. On the toilet.

Fantastic.

For the last year neighbor visibility hasn't been a problem. I think they've been gutting the apartment across the street. The windows have been covered with plywood this whole time. Surprise! Looks like they are done. And because of the layout of my apartment, I now either have to close my bathroom door all the time (annoying, plus steam builds up in there when I shower because there's no fan) or find another solution. Blinds are not an option as the ones on this window are broken. (Thanks, previous tenant!) I briefly considered embracing the spirit of exhibitionism, but it's just not me.

Yet another trip to Ikea for more bits and pieces for the craft room lent itself to picking up a couple of 49 cent dishtowels in white with a red stripe. I happened to have a cafe curtain rod on hand and some curtain clips from Umbra that I bought ages ago in Austin. (A ha! THIS is why I keep these things! So proud of myself.)

And for a grand total of half what I spent on breakfast this morning at Starbucks (not joking), I had this semi-elegant solution for getting my privacy back. You can see that I didn't bother ironing these. Maybe next time I iron something I'll take care of this. Maybe not.

The people on the above floor keep their blinds shut all the time, so I think this is safe for awhile. Plus the white still lets the light in. I love natural light.

Problem solved!

The Best Thing I Ever Made

I first made these Salted Caramel Squares for Christine's "Boarth of July" party (boar sausages and proscuitto were both featured meal items) because it's from the chef and owner of Huckleberry in Santa Monica, which Lindsey took me and Ann to this past January. Huckleberry was delicious and I figured these would be good. I did not know how good they would be.

I do not really consider myself much of a baker. I have a long and storied past of screwing up various baked items, such as the time my cookies spread all over the cookie sheet (still not sure why) or the chocolate cake I made with extra virgin olive oil. There's probably a way to do that to make it taste excellent, but mine was gross. Really, really gross. And I wasted a lot of really good olive oil.

Because of these seminal events of my childhood, I don't have a lot of faith in myself when it comes to baking. In general, I do ok at baking, but the things I bake are definitely not my best or favorite food efforts overall.

And then I made these Salted Caramel Squares. I brought them to Maybay's party last weekend and I do believe they were quite a success. One guy actually told me I changed his life. Not bad for a few humble ingredients.

Here's the recipe. I'm putting my pictures in the middle of the directions so you can see what things look like in progress.

Salted-Caramel Squares
by Zoe Nathan



ACTIVE: 30 MIN
TOTAL TIME: 2 HRS  (At least!)
SERVINGS: Makes 32 squares  (or more - I like to cut them a bit smaller)

Pastry Shell
1 stick unsalted butter, softened
1 cup confectioners' sugar
2 large eggs, beaten
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 large egg white, beaten


Caramel
2 1/4 cups heavy cream
1 vanilla bean, split, seeds scraped
2 1/4 cups sugar
1 3/4 sticks unsalted butter
2 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt

1. Preheat the oven to 350°. Line a 9-by-13-inch baking pan with parchment paper, leaving a 2-inch overhang on the short sides. In a large bowl, using a handheld mixer at low speed, cream the butter. Beat in the confectioners' sugar. Add the whole eggs and beat until incorporated, then beat in the flour and salt.

 Press the pastry into the prepared pan in an even layer, 1/4 inch thick. Freeze until firm, 10 minutes.

(Kate's note - You don't really "press" this pastry - it's really sticky. I have had best success using a stiff metal spatula like you might use for icing a cake. If you don't have one of those, just use a table knife to spread this over the parchment.)

2. Line the pastry with parchment paper and fill with pie weights. Bake for 35 minutes, until just set. Carefully remove the pie weights and parchment. Brush the shell with the egg white and bake for 20 minutes longer, until golden and cooked through. Let cool.


3. In a saucepan, bring the cream, vanilla bean and seeds to a simmer. Cover; keep warm.

4. In a large, heavy saucepan, stir the sugar into 1/4 cup of water. Simmer over moderate heat, without stirring, until a deep amber caramel forms, 7 minutes.

No color yet. This is approximately the 10 minute mark.
Zoe's stove is obviously more powerful than mine.

Appoaching the 20 minute mark. Starting to caramelize...slowly...

And we're deep amber. At about minute 25.

5. Remove the caramel from the heat and carefully add the cream. When the bubbling subsides, stir in the butter.

I never said this was good for you.

Insert a candy thermometer and cook over moderately high heat, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the caramel reaches 240°, 10 minutes.

10 minutes my ass. I think this stage takes me 20-25. Possibly 30. I don't know.
I think I get a little delirious around minute 18.
You have to stir constantly and watch the temperature like a hawk.

Success! Exactly 240 degrees, or in candy-making parlance, "soft ball stage."

Discard the vanilla bean and stir in the salt. Pour the caramel over the shell. Refrigerate until firm, 4 hours or overnight; bring to room temperature. Remove the bar from the pan using the parchment overhang; cut into squares.

If you follow this recipe exactly, these come out perfectly. I highly recommend you invest in a candy thermometer and go to town on these. You will not be disappointed.

I like to sprinkle some Maldon Sea Salt on the top.
Keep these in the fridge (if you have leftovers, which you probably won't.)

Another Week, Another Hotel

I'm shacked up at the W Times Square for the next few days. I have to say, the room is surprisingly spacious and nice. It also seems to be soundproof and the room darkening shades are great at blocking the sights and sounds of this view:

But I think the closet might be my favorite part of the room. Ok, not more favorite than the soundproofing. A close second, though.

That's right, the inside of the closet is fuschia. So fabulous! And what a great idea. I might just have to paint my closet at home...

A Tale of Two Appetizers

Charles Dickens is most surely rolling over in his grave at that title.

First, an apology - I know I am way behind on this blogging thing. It's hard to get back in the habit!

It was Maybay's birthday last weekend and she requested I bring an app. I got really excited about the options and brought two. I decided that it would be fun to bring a high-brow dish and a low-brow dish, in honor of the true fabulousness of the event's honoree.

High-Brow: Prosciutto and Fontina Pinwheels from Food and Wine

I love using puff pastry because it is basically idiot-proof. Thanks, Pepperidge Farm.

The first thing you do is roll it out. Actually, the first thing you do is thaw it. Then you roll it out. It helps to have a rolling pin for this. I misplaced mine. Which I discovered after I spread flour all over the place.

Luckily, after searching every cabinet in my kitchen three times, I remembered that maybe Mer had the pin. Success! She did (from Easter - clearly I use this thing a lot) and she was home. Game on!

Rolling out the dough is super easy. Once that's done, you just layer the goods on and roll it up.

I think the recipe lied and in retrospect I think I would put some more prosciutto on them. But they turned out ok.

They looked pretty and tasted good and sometimes that's enough!

*********

Low-Brow: Goop

For the record, this dip was named long before Gwyneth Paltrow started her little blog-newsletter. In fact, I'm pretty sure we have it in print from an employee cookbook made by my Dad's employer in the 80s. Maybe we should sue Gwyneth. Lawyer friends, do we have a case? Any chance I can get my hands on some Coldplay cash?

Frivolous lawsuits aside, this delicious dip has been passed down from my grandmother, Nana (which is pronounced like the start of the song Na-Na-Hey-Hey-Goodbye - it does not rhyme with banana).

I once tried to make Goop with "real" ingredients like fresh chives and fresh garlic because in general I like to use the most authentic ingredients I can find. Guess what? It tasted like crap. And incidentally, that's what Nana would have said had she sampled it. You can't deviate from the ingredients or it just doesn't taste right.

Trust in 60+ years of this recipe. This stuff is freaking delicious - garlicky and addictive. And you would never guess it's made from cottage cheese.  

Goop

Makes about 2 cups.

Ingredients

• 1 - 16 oz carton small curd cottage cheese with chives (Yes, the kind that already has chives in it. Trust in the recipe.) If you use low fat cottage cheese increase the mayo about 2 tsp. If you use large curd cottage cheese, you'll have to beat it harder and longer. That's what she said.)
• 2 heaping Tbsp mayonnaise. Regular or lite is fine. Non-fat is unacceptable.
• 1/4 tsp + 1/8 tsp garlic powder

Directions
Put everything in a bowl and mix with an electric hand mixer on high speed or food processor until all the curds are decimated and it's all very smooth with just teeny tiny curd texture. Chill. (You can scoop it back into the cottage cheese container, which is the traditional storage method for this dip.)

Serve with:
Mandatory: Jays ridged chips (or if you are not in Chicago and can't get Jays, you can use Ruffles)
Optional: dipping vegetables - carrots, celery, broccoli, bell pepper, cucumber

Voila.