Strawberry Season

It's barely even June and I've already exhausted myself with the number of strawberries I've been eating.  It's been said that they came earlier this year thanks to all those 80 degree days we had in March.  Since then, I've heard whispers of praise for how gustatorily obliging global warming can be.

I've taken to mixing strawberries and rhubarb with honey and minced candied ginger before roasting them in the oven till perfectly tender. The strawberries and rhubarb literally melt under the heat. With one or two pulses of the blender, they turn into a bright pink sauce I want to put on everything.

At this point I'm perfectly content with adding a dollop of cardamom-laced whipped cream and quietly slipping off into a berry-fueled delirium. 

If you are inclined to learn the specifics on how to prepare roasted strawberries and rhubarb and the absolutely addictive cardamom whipped cream that should accompany them, visit my post on Honest Cooking. 

Wildflowers

My favorite sort of flowers are the wild ones, especially those grown in places where you least expect them. A drive back from the North Shore of Boston to help deliver a wedding cake turned out to be a tour of all the best wild lilac bushes in town.

A few choice calla lilies, a rose or two and a lone orchid were cast-offs from the cake decorated with fresh flowers. All destined to make a few sweet and simple arrangements.

Happy Birthday!

A long time ago, namely 2 years, this blog was about food and my family. While the food part has remained (and grown stronger) the element of family has received less emphasis since I moved from home in upstate New York to Boston for graduate school. This makes the trips back home such treasured time because I get to revisit the moments that are responsible for giving this blog its backbone.

Crowning moments are always the best to share, because they capture my family in its most joyous moments. This past weekend, my younger brother joined the club and turned 21. We celebrated at breakfast because in my house, mornings are always for Grahame.

Waiting for Wild Edibles

I'm enamored by the idea of seasonal eating. I like the way waiting encourages reverence and reverence inspires respect. This year I joined the ranks of people patiently awaiting the arrival of fiddleheads and ramps and waited for them with the same anticipation I save for the first snow, or even Christmas morning. Waiting can only feel like this when you know something really good is about to happen. I finally got my ramps and fiddleheads this weekend and set off to cook them. I made pasta. And it was delicious.

Breakfast Sandwiches

Breakfast Sandwiches, two ways. Because this girl, and her chronic lack of decisiveness can never choose just one. Both sandwiches begin with a fried egg. I added slices of a granny smith apple, bacon, Dijon mustard and sharp cheddar cheese to exhibit A. There is no denying this was the more decadent of the two.

Exhibit B featured tomatoes, spinach and Buddah Pesto. This pesto is so good, I have just about given up on making my own. It never seems to compare to this stuff.

A word about these English muffins: They are homemade and I guarantee, easier and more delicious than you imagine.

English Muffins
Adapted From King Arthur Flour
Makes 12-16 muffins

4¼ cups AP flour, more for dusting
1¾ cups whole milk, warm
3 tbsp unsalted butter
1¼ tsp kosher salt
1 tbsp sugar
1 large egg, lightly beaten
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp instant yeast

Heat the milk and butter until the milk has warmed and the butter melts. Combine the milk & butter mixture with the egg and sifted dry ingredients and mix until a dough forms. This can be done in a stand mixer or by hand with a considerable amount of upper body strength. Once dough comes together (it will be damp and velvety), transfer to a floured surface and roll out dough to a 1" thickness. Using a English muffin ring or canning jar lid, cut out rounds and transfer to a baking sheet dusted with cornmeal. Dust tops of the muffins with cornmeal as well. Continue to cut out muffins, re-rolling dough when needed. Cover muffins with a kitchen towel and allow them to rise for 20 minutes. Using a cast iron pan on low heat, cook muffins about 3-5 minutes on each side until brown and crisped. Transfer muffins to a 325° oven for 12-15 minutes so they can continue to dry out. Open muffins with a fork and toast before serving.

Mushroom Quiche

Who doesn't love a quiche? From a buttery and flaky crust to the savory eggy custard, quiches are quite possibly, one of the best vehicles for experimentation. In more trying times, when plagued by a lack of culinary inspiration, I turn to quiche for its simplicity and reliability.

By time the end of the week rolls around, and I open my fridge to find the last on my vegetables slowly wilting, my cheese perilously close to nothing but a rind, and my milk on its last leg, I almost always end up making a quiche.  In fact I've been singing this song for a while.

This quiche features a duo of shiitake & cremini mushrooms sautéed in olive oil, butter and thyme, a handful of grated Gruyère, a few cloves of roasted garlic and a decadent splash of heavy cream.  Like most things in life, this quiche would have been made better by the addition of bacon, but bacon's lucky if it makes it to the end of the week at all.

Vanilla Maple Granola with Hazelnuts

My older brother is learning how to cook. On a daily basis we discuss his antics in the kitchen. He has  taken a completely earnest approach to cooking, throwing himself into it in a way I completely admire.  But as he recounts stories about preparing brown rice or the perplexing lack of variety in tuna recipes, it has led me to examine how my own cooking ability came into existence.  After all, both my brothers were in the kitchen nearly as much as I was growing up,  it just so happens that they were there to eat and I was there to cook. 

I remember moments when my father would call me to help him make breakfast or my mother would ask me to mise out all the ingredients before she began to cook, but I never thought of those things as cooking—until now. It turns out those tasks were the harbingers of cooking. Becoming familiar with the parts before they become a whole, gives you a sense of understanding about what it takes to actually make something. Once you've become acquainted with the raw materials, the possibilities are endless. Sometimes I like to think of cooking as an endless series of permutations, with the options firmly rooted in your ability to explore and experiment with flavors. And no recipe benefits from that sort of approach to cooking like granola. 

This particular granola was birthed out of a number of singular ingredients lurking in my cabinets asking to be used. I used Sucanat, a raw cane sugar because I like how its rich molasses flavor turns smoky and more pronounced after cooking. I also used hazelnuts, a nut not shy of expelling its flavors into its neighbors. Hazelnuts are both a fragrant and slightly oily nut. They burn easily so it's recommended that you alter the amount of nuts to your taste, as well as frequently turn the granola to avoid them from over-toasting. Hazelnuts are precious and finicky little things, but are nevertheless, worth the trouble in this recipe for their flavor alone. Plus, they give you a chance to preside over your food in a very intimate manner, which may or may not be a good thing.

Vanilla Maple Granola with Hazelnuts

3 cups old fashion rolled oats

¼ cup  brown sugar or Sucanat

¼ cup grapeseed oil

½ tsp cinnamon

¼ cup crushed hazelnuts or almonds

½ cup maple syrup

1 tsp vanilla extract

¾ tsp kosher salt

Preheat oven to 200°. Combine the wet and dry ingredients separately then mix. Transfer mixture to a lipped baking sheet and spread into one layer. Transfer to oven and bake until oats become crisp, about 1 hour. The granola should be lightly turned every 15-20 minutes during the baking process to avoid sticking and burning. Store granola in an airtight container for up to 2 week.