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that kind of something

05.22.09 // Comments:24

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.

Comments:24 Click here to comment! Categories: before the 2009 diet change

the most of it

05.20.09 // Comments: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.

Comments:14 Click here to comment! Categories: before the 2009 diet change

the change that comes

05.06.09 // Comments:13

potatoes and spoon

I am at a place right now where I am standing still in life.

Everywhere around me, people are rushing for things—new places and careers, new relationships, new life, even—and I am watching them.

I want to go forward, to take a step, join them, but instead I stare at my feet, unmoving and, if I’m honest, afraid.

slicing potatoes

Most days, I want a blueprint: a very, very specific outline of steps to take, with guarantees and/or backup plans, if possible. So I talk to people who’ve been in similar situations, and they tell me what they did, whether they got their first apartment at 17 or had to work their way through college or stayed at their first job for five years.

But no matter how similar life stories are, they aren’t the same. Following your choices won’t guarantee that I follow your life. Your future can’t be mine.

sliced potatoes

And I don’t really want it to be. Not when I’m honest. In fact, I don’t really want advice, either. I think I just want someone to listen and nod and say, you know, what’s supposed to happen will happen. Because I believe that.

Meanwhile, I take easy change where I can find it, and, at least for me, that means the kind that happens in the kitchen, routinely, every day.

assembling

Like, I take a baby gold potato in my hand, set in on a wooden spoon and make quick slices, then smothering it with olive oil and butter, tossing salt and pepper and sage on top. A full bag of these goes onto a cookie sheet, slid into a hot oven that warms my face and hands when I open and close its door. In an hour: what was cold, raw flesh has become hot, soft and tender, fragrant and flavorful. The skins have wrinkled and darkened, the juices have sunk in deep.

potatoes filled

Hasselback potatoes are really something special. Beautiful and intelligent. Requiring a bit of effort for something very impressive. I think they look like little snails, but that doesn’t sound appetizing, so let’s say they look like little fans—waves that are crusty and golden, juicy and crispy.

hasselback potatoes

And the bit of effort that goes into creating them—the slicing and stuffing, which is mindless work—yields great returns when you look at these, but even more when you taste them.

That’s the kind of change I don’t have to think twice about choosing, which is, of course, welcome indeed.

Hasselback Potatoes
Inspired by Falling Cloudberries

Ingredients:
1.5 pounds of baby gold potatoes
Olive oil
3 Tablespoons butter
Chopped sage
Salt and pepper

Directions:
Preheat oven to 425 degrees F (220 degrees C). Line a rimmed baking sheet with aluminum foil and drizzle olive oil on top to prevent the potatoes from sticking.

Take potatoes, one by one, and set on a wooden spoon, slicing top to bottom along the length of the body at even intervals. To make the slits larger, you can slice tiny bits of the potato out by slicing at alternating diagonals. (I did this with some and not with others – both worked fine.)

Set the sliced potatoes on the oiled baking sheet, being careful not to break them apart. Drizzle with olive oil. Insert bits of butter between the openings in each potato. Sprinkle sage all over. Sprinkle salt and pepper all over.

Slide baking sheet in oven and bake for 30 to 45 minutes, tossing the potatoes once after 20 minutes in the heat.

Comments:13 Click here to comment! Categories: before the 2009 diet change