Monthly Archives: May 2009

that kind of something

18

vanilla spice cookies

As you know, I’m not exactly the type of person to miss winter. But can I tell you something? When these vanilla spice cookies bake, even in the middle of May, filling the kitchen with a fragrance sweet and filled with nostalgia, I’d swear I was walking around a Christmas market where they sell fresh-roasted cinnamon pecans wrapped in paper cones, the kind you take in your gloved hands, the air visible in front of you as you breathe in and out, your face flushed pink.

It’s like that time last winter when my friend Becky and I drove out to Geneva, on, I swear, what must have been the coldest night ever, on the hunt for homemade candy canes and cups of hot chocolate. After we walked up and down a street of bundled carolers and holiday decorations, our skin cracking and our noses running, what we found instead were frozen toes and fingers, even after returning to the car; a few photos of us, in the dark, standing near twinkling lights; and my first taste of a chestnut, which, in all honestly, smells a hundred times better than it tastes: hot and bland. I don’t often feel nostalgic for nights like those, so it would take something pretty special to make me remember all the good parts: the smell of fresh popcorn from the white tent in front of one of the shops, the gleaming red and gold globes hanging from a tree, the group of musicians who played, hands exposed, as if they couldn’t even feel the freeze.

Let me tell you: these cookies are that something.

cookies on Silpat

They came to me the other night, quickly, because I had the ingredients on hand and because, as icebox cookies, I figured they’d hold up well to shipping. I was planning a package for my friend Jarrelle. You’d like Jarrelle. We met in college, I can’t remember when exactly, but she’s the kind of person that is easy to like, in a way that not many people are, and if she lived a little closer to Chicago instead of New Hampshire, I’d be going over tonight to visit and give her a big hug, which is exactly what she needs right now.

The original recipe for these cookies calls for chopped nuts, which I omitted, and the weirdest thing was that an almost nutty flavor still came through. It’s like these cookies were all the best parts of candied pecans—the sweetness, the slight caramelizing—without the actual nuts underneath. Fresh out of the oven, they are nothing short of irresistible.

chocolate chocolate-chip cookies

Along with the Christmas cookies, I also packed some of Nigella Lawson’s death by chocolate cookies (though less of them because I was afraid they’d melt), which are exactly what you think of when you think of emotional comfort food: rich, decadent, soft and chocolate. Originally designed to be oversized quarter-cup cookies, they are made to be eaten with a big glass of milk, maybe while you watch a movie you love.

Anyway, since you’re so nice to let me talk about cookies again here, I’m giving you both these recipes—a two-for-one post, you could say—and wishing you a happy, wonderful long weekend, filled with friends, long hot sunshine and, of course, something sweet to eat.





Vanilla Spice Cookies
Adapted from Recipe Zaar

The original recipe suggests dipping the cookies in chocolate icing, so by all means try that. I, however, like them just as they are. Also, the recipe as it is yields around 80; feel free to freeze the logs to bake later, whenever the mood strikes (dough may be frozen several months).

Ingredients:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1 egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon cardamom

Directions:
In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat butter at a medium speed and gradually add sugar, beating well. Next, add egg and vanilla, and beat well. In a separate bowl, combine flour, baking soda, salt and spices; add this dry mixture to the butter mixture and combine.

Shape the dough into two approximately 12-inch rolls. Wrap each in wax paper and chill for at least two hours.

When ready to bake, preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Unwrap rolls and cut into 1/4-inch slices. Place on ungreased (or Silpat-lined) baking sheets, and bake for 10 to 12 minutes.

Cool slightly on baking sheets, then remove to wire racks to cool completely.



Nigella’s Death by Chocolate Cookies
Adapted from Nigella Lawson

Originally, these cookies are designed to be mammoth in size, each created from a quarter-cup of batter dropped onto a baking sheet. I went smaller, but you can definitely experiment.

Ingredients:
16 ounces semisweet chocolate chips
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup cold butter, cubed
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon baking powder

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350 F. Set aside 8 ounces of the chocolate chips, and melt the remaining chocolate (I put it in the microwave for half a minute).

In a large bowl, combine the melted chocolate with butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla until smooth. Cool mixture. Stir in flour and baking powder. Add chocolate chips that had been set aside.

Spoon onto cookie sheets lined with parchment or Silpats. Bake 12 to 15 minutes or until puffed and set to touch. Cool for a minute or two on the cookie sheets before transferring to wire racks to cool completely.

the most of it

14

avocados

I was given some very good advice recently, and whether relating to your current friends, your living situation, your job, your finances or something else, it applies: take what you have right now and learn everything you can from it.

It’s maybe not a very new idea, but its impact is undeniable, even with something simple, like, say, an avocado.

A few weeks ago, I can’t remember if it was on that day we lost all power at work or another afternoon, while Alicia and I were talking, we said something about avocados and how we’d grown to love them over time. I hated the idea of an avocado when I was little—much like the idea of tomatoes and onions and certain types of cheese—but finally at some point I’d had guacamole with tortilla chips and then later, some avocado on a sandwich and eventually in some type of sushi, and I was sold. And that same day we talked about avocados, Alicia came home to one, completely by surprise, and so I declared it great providence or, at least, a sign that I should buy some, too.

I purchased three. There was no rhyme or reason behind the number; I don’t even think there was a special sale going on. I took them, threw them in a plastic bag and into my cart and skirted through the produce section.

guacamole

Later, at home, I tried to cut into one, planning to re-create On the Border’s guacamole live that I’d seen them make so many times, right in front of me, at the table. And here’s where the learning begins—if the avocado feels firm to the touch, it’s not ripe yet. One avocado in the garbage.

Over a week went by with my squeezing the fruit when I’d pass them, trying to see if they were, finally, soft and at least something like the spreadable consistency I’d seen in real-life demonstrations near a bowl of chips. When they were, with the skin giving a little when I pushed, I sliced them in half long-wise, spooned out the pits and simply scooped out bright green flesh that was as soft as butter that’s been sitting on the counter.

finished guacamole

The resulting guacamole was fine—good, even—a simple blend of tomatoes and onions and lime juice and a jalapeno. It even made an impromptu addition to a dinner-party spread Mother’s Day evening, after it had darkened a little and we stirred it together to make it seem fresher. That was when I learned two more tips from a lovely lady from California:

1) If you leave the pit in the guacamole, it will stay bright green longer and 2) If you’re in a pinch, just combine avocado with salsa, which has most of the things you’d be adding anyway.

The thing about learning cooking is that it’s an awful lot like learning anything else—you gather information, you test, you try—but in this case, with one chief advantage: you get to eat it all in the end.




Guacamole
Adapted from On the Border’s Guacamole Live

Ingredients:
2 fresh, ripe avocados
1 lime wedge
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 Tablespoon tomato, seeded and diced
1 1/2 Tablespoons fresh jalapenos, diced fine
1 Tablespoon red onion, diced fine
1 Tablespoon cilantro, chopped

Directions:
Scoop out ripe avocados into bowl and mash until chunky. Squeeze lime on top, and then add all the remaining ingredients. Combine until desired consistency. Enjoy.

This is the good stuff.

14

crumb of lemon yogurt cake

I don’t know where you sit today, but I hope your view is as nice as mine, where the air smells sweet and the sun is high. Charcoal grills send smoke through my windows, green grass surrounds blooming tulips and daffodils, restaurants open their walls so we can dine al fresco as the sun sets.

I’ve realized as much as I hate Chicago winter, I love it for this: what else could make me so aware of the beauty of Chicago spring? And as spring turns to summer and summer to fall, I will keep enjoying the beauty of seasons, the joy of watching change unfold around you, irrespective of you and what you want. It’s nice to be a part of that.

I guess what I’m saying is that these almost-summer afternoons are the good stuff, what we’ve been waiting for, so maybe you’ll understand why it’s hard to resist all they tempt me towards? Things like a sunny weekend game at Wrigley Field, hours antiquing in northern Illinois, long walks on tree-lined streets of ivy-colored brick buildings.

lemon yogurt cake, close

Last week, I met a three-year-old girl with an easy smile, while we walked down creaky steps in a vintage building near a Metra station, surrounded by trees with blossoms as big as my hands. Saturday, after lunching at one my favorite places with an old blogging friend, I strolled along Clark to Broadway, passing bakeries and restaurants and adorable little shops. And this week, after work each day, I’ll come home with no plans but to be outside, watching the tomato plants grow and ready for the sky to turn orange and crimson before I pillow my head.

Also last week, because I wasn’t done with Oikos Greek yogurt yet, I made this cake.

lemon yogurt cake, above

After I ate the easy dish of vanilla yogurt drizzled with honey, the remainder went into a fragrant lemon cake that baked spongy and soft, with a sturdy crust made for holding in your hand. This cake is really the definition of simple, both in its creation and in its results: just mix ingredients, pour into pan, bake, drizzle glaze on top, and cut a thick slice of it to eat for a late-night snack or a weekday breakfast. At least that’s what I’ve been doing, beginning with Tuesday and then for breakfast at my work desk every day after.

Lighter and more sponge-like than a pound cake, this dessert is as soft as spring clouds and no less satisfying. Plus, its total prep time is mere minutes, meaning you’ll have hours to spend elsewhere, preferably outside, in 60-degree weather, when you throw on a light jacket and sit by something beautiful. Or at least, that’s where you’ll find me.



Lemon Yogurt Cake
Adapted from Salt & Chocolate, as seen on Tastespotting

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons of baking powder
1/2 teaspoon of salt
1 cup Greek yogurt (I used vanilla)
1 1/3 cups sugar, divided
3 eggs
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest (1 to 2 lemons)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup of vegetable oil
1/3 cup of freshly squeezed lemon juice

Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350. Spray a metal loaf pan with nonstick baking spray.

In a bowl, combine flour, baking powder and salt, and set aside. In a large bowl or the bowl of a stand mixer, mix together the yogurt, 1 cup sugar, the eggs, lemon zest and vanilla. Take the dry ingredients you set aside and slowly whisk them into the wet ingredients.

With a rubber spatula, fold the vegetable oil into the batter until it’s combined. Pour the batter into the prepared pan, and bake for about 50 minutes, or until a cake tester placed in the center of the loaf comes out clean.

Meanwhile, cook the 1/3 cup lemon juice and remaining 1/3 cup sugar in a small pan until the sugar dissolves and the mixture is clear. Set aside. When the cake is done, allow it to cool in the pan for 10 minutes.

Setting the cake on a wire rack,Carefully place on a baking rack over a sheet pan. While the cake is still warm, pour the lemon-sugar mixture over the cake and allow it to soak in. Let it sit for 15 minutes and then remove from the pan to finish cooking on a rack.