Giving Thanks

I'm fortunate enough to have mentors who know themselves very well, and I'm most thankful to have them in my life. Self-awareness is a character trait I greatly admire in others.

That said, if there's one thing I've learned about myself this year - it's that I'd much rather just do something than talk about it. I'd rather get my stand mixer out and start creaming the butter and sugar than wax poetically about the virtues of using organic, unsalted butter -which is indeed what I use. (Speaking of butter and sugar, they were definitely present in this beauty of a breakfast this morning.)




My inclination to do, rather than chat, is why - going forward - you're likely to see more photos and less chit-chat around here. For example, here are some amber jewels of kuri squash we had the other night, and whose leftovers I'm about to make into a savory squash pie for Thanksgiving dinner. Not much else needs to be said, the photo hopefully speaks for itself.




A photo is worth a thousand words, so I'm going to spare myself the small-talk and get to the point of what I really like to do around here- share photos of our table-life. Thanks to those who have helped me to grow as an individual this year and to realize that the most important thing to know is one's self.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Almond Cake

Although it may take a lot to ruffle my feathers, it doesn't take much to tickle my fancy. Take almond cake, for example.



We're talking four ingredients here: almonds, sugar, eggs, and flour. That's it.* These four ingredients, thanks to Marcella Hazan, provide me a path to autumnal bliss. I wouldn't be the first to exalt Hazan's Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking, nor will I be the last.

That said, I may be one of the few Hazan devotees who speaks of her as though Hazan has been working in-flesh with me in the kitchen. After the boyfriend comments on the deliciousness of the cake, I proceed to explain how Hazan "had me whip the egg whites until they formed stiff peaks." He looked at me as though I had been talking to dead people. Hazan is like that, she'll jump right out of the page and ensure your egg whites have the stiffest of peaks, and that your cake is the most delicious of desserts.

Hazan aside, who can resist nuts? Not me, in any case. On any given day, it could very well be that 1/3 of my caloric sustenance comes from nuts. I'm nuts about nuts, so it only makes sense to sneak them into a cake. Plus, when you bake with nuts, it eliminates the need for any other fat. Take this recipe for an example, you won't see any butter, oil, or egg yolks. It's just nuts.



*In full disclosure, I did omit the mention of a pinch of salt and grated lemon. The lemon is optional (yet highly encouraged), but the salt actually has a pragmatic role in getting the egg whites to stiffen.

Almond Cake
Marcella Hazan

Ingredients
10 ounces shelled, unpeeled almonds, about 2 cups
1-1/3 cups granulated sugar
8 egg whites (keep the yolks, be creative with them)
Salt
The peel of one lemon, grated without digging into the white pith beneath
6 tablespoons all-purpose flour
An 8-or 9-inch springform pan
Butter for greasing the pan

Instructions
Preheat the oven to 350.

Place the almonds and sugar in a blender or food processor and grind to a fine consistency, turning the motor on and off. Don't let them turn to a paste. (Then you've got almond butter, which is great too!)

Beat the egg whites together with 1/2 teaspoon salt until they form stiff peaks.

Add the ground almonds and the grated lemon peel to the egg whites, a little bit at a time, folding them in gently, but thoroughly. The whites may deflate a bit, but if you mix carefully there should be no significant loss of volume.

Add the flour, shaking a little of it at a time through a strainer and again, mixing gently.

Thickly smear the pan with butter. Put the cake batter into the pan, shaking the pan to level it off. Place the pan in the middle level of the pre-heated oven and bake for 1 hour. Before taking it out of the oven, test the center of the cake by piercing it with a toothpick. If it comes out dry, the cake is done. If it doesn't, look a bit longer.

When done, unlock the pan and remove the hoop. When the cake has cooled somewhat, and it is just lukewarm, loosen it from the bottom of the pan. Serve when it is completely cold. It will keep a while if wrapped well.

What Fall Is About

We should have discussed this pie a looong time ago. My apologies. Usually, the summer months are what bring people outdoors, dipping toes in the sand and splashing in the water. But outdoor fun is all about the fall months for me. So I've been trapsing about the area, hunting for the best apples, driving 2 hours to obtain thick bratwursts (the kind whose casings buckle under your teeth) and German beer at a local Oktoberfest.

But I digress, I came to talk about pie and hot chocolate. In an attempt to bring in fall the proper way and have a reason to return to the bloggosphere, I baked a pumpkin pie for some coworkers a few weeks back.




This pumpkin pie recipe is not only from The New York Times Dessert Cookbook, it was developed by a former White House chef, Ronald Mesnier. (Doesn't he look like he knows what he's talking about, pie-wise?) It may sound like it'd be a fussy recipe, but it's nothing extreme.

The usual pinches of fall cinnamon, ginger, and cloves are involved, as is the assumed canned pumpkin puree. There are two elements that make it a bit more luxurious. That's the additional egg yolks (three eggs and two egg yolks) and the heavenly, additional cup of cream. If you'd like the recipe, pass me a note and I'll gladly pass it along.

The other fall treat I've been reveling in is hot chocolate.




In my book, good hot chocolate is dependent on two things: whole milk and unsweetened cocoa powder. When it comes to milk, don't mess around - go whole. To the full-fat phobics I say this: just have the fat, revel in its flavor (because that's what it's all about), and be done with it. There is absolutely no substitute for its flavor. As for the unsweetened cocoa powder, it gives you more control regarding the sweetness and character of the final product.

Call me crazy, but I prefer making this over the stovetop rather than the microwave. It allows me to adjust the flavor as it heats, ensures there are no cocoa powder chunks, and richly sweetens the air in our 650 square foot apartment. My process is the following: put a saucepan on medium heat, add some milk and unsweetened cocoa powder, and whisk until thoroughly combined and there are no more chunks. Have a tasting spoon and jar of sugar on hand, and continue to add milk and cocoa powder until it's at the quantity and flavor you like. Add sugar as desired.

From there, the hot chocolate can take on any personality you're in the mood for. You can add vanilla, cinnamon, a squeeze of an orange, dark liquor (if you're into that), or anything else that strikes your fancy with chocolate. Or just leave it plan. Tonight I was in the mood for something dark and rich, so I didn't add that much sugar, but I did add vanilla extract.

Warm, spicy, and sweet things from the kitchen - that's what fall's about for me. That, and traditional German celebrations of course.

Mushroom Love

I cannot let another day slip away without proclaiming the joys of mushroom season to you. My love of fall may solely rest in the fact that mushrooms abound. (And the fact that I can dig out all my scarves from the depths of the closet.) Meaty, earthy, and subtle - mushrooms are a food unto themselves in my vegetable world. Like myself, mushrooms don't need fancilful things to be happy. All they need is a little heat, fat, and salt. I, on the other hand, need yoga, my soup pots, and warm slippers - especially this time of year.





My suggestion is to saute diced mushrooms in your fat of choice (butter or olive oil), and add a sprinkling of salt and a few cracks of pepper. The salt will help the water to escape, which will leave the mushroom a more meaty texture. Saute until the mushrooms look slightly parched, then add a sprinkling of herbs (thyme, oregano) or grated parmesan cheese if you want to be fancy. I've been known to add a splash of balsamic vinegar towards the end of cooking, so it cooks down and glazes the mushrooms, and that takes them to a completely different level. But let's stick with the basic three for now.





Although I'm smitten with mushrooms, I cannot stomach them alone in the absence of other foods. So I try to pair them with something starchy and something strong. Enter: potatoes and herring. We've got a great international deli nearby that sells herring imported from my boyfriend's home country - Belarus. And who can resist fingerling potatoes this time of year? I can't, at least.

As much as I hope this sheds new light on mushrooms, my bigger hope is that you'll enjoy your fall food of choice (apples, squash, parsnips, pumpkin) until you brim with happiness. That's what fall is for - to come back inside from the summer frolics on the beach and restore your energies with nurturing food.

And if you don't cook, reading cookbooks that contain comforting recipes almost does the same trick! Happy fall.

Italia

When a boyfriend returns from Italy, gushing about the pizza, vino, and pasta, it leaves a girlfriend no choice but to make gnocchi, with homemade pesto - if only to reestablish her presence and show that Italian grandmas aren't the only ones worth their salt in the kitchen.

So that's what I did.





That, and I celebrated my 23rd birthday recently. Below is us on my birthday. (We took turns taking a photo of eachother during a nice walk in Kirkland's marina.)



Cheers!

The Places You'll Go

Upon the graduation of my high school's class of 2002, our beloved librarian (and my neighbor), Marilyn Nelson, read the class Dr. Seuss's classic "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" Boy was she right. At 15 years old, that exchange gave me a small thirst for the unknown. This thirst comes and goes, much like that for lemonnade, but this weekend it hit me strong. So, I traveled up to Sequim, WA, to visit cousins I recently discovered lived there.




I took the ferry to Kingston and snaked through the Upper Olympic Peninsula with my old car that just won't die. (Seriously, it went through the Rockies last summer with the majority of my belongings.)




I saw retired Hollywood donkeys. It's quite obvious they're past their prime.




We had a delicious dinner of swiss chard pie and artichoke, both vegetables from their garden. As you can see, they have an elevated patio which allows us to see the Buckhorn Mountains all around us. (See the right of the photo. That's them.)

We watched tennis matches, went for a hike to this spit near their house, had a picnic, saw eagles, strolled through lavender farms, had a long discussion after dinner until the meteor shower silenced us in awe, and I even got to sleep in an Airstream. No lie.

If I've learned anything in my tiny 22 (almost 23!) years it's this: The places you'll go is exciting, but it's the people you meet that's important. Thanks Dixie and Dave for the great weekend.

It's a Whiz

I’m surrounded by good people. Parents who send weekly temperatures from back home (highs and lows) to make sure I’m informed on the Midwestern-front, coworkers that unknowingly give me future parenting advice from their shared experiences of child-rearing, a friend who invites me over for yoga and blueberries, and a boyfriend who I’m completely smitten with.

This is not to mention the friendly parking attendant, beaming Whole Foods cashiers, and those nice drivers that let me change lanes in rush-hour traffic. Life is good.



And so are smoothies. Having a significant other that’s away for nearly a month and being a busy-bee during the workday hasn’t lent itself well to interacting with these folks as much as I’d like, and smoothies have been a great alternative. Strawberries, yogurt, cashews, oats, honey – these are some new pals. Now that I’m temporarily cooking for one, my immersion blender and I have become besties as of late. (This interest is second to my new(!) camera lens, whose workings you see here.)

I love smoothies because they’re adaptable to any level of hunger and accept you right where you’re at. I’ve had them when I was ravenous, and I’ve also had them when I just wanted something sweet before bed. Smoothies don’t need recipes, really. But you may consult a book if you wish. I’m paging through Nourishing Traditions right now not so much for recipes, rather insights about which natural elements are found in certain fruits, nuts, and grains. Nothing makes you want a smoothie more badly than reading health books.




I like my smoothies on the thick side, spoonable, and with texture. Some may like a more sippable, pourable smoothie. That’s great too. My ideal smoothie has 4 essential parts: rolled oats, fruit, yogurt, and nuts. Specifically, it's been strawberries, whole milk (plain) yogurt, cashews, and quick rolled oats.

The ratio I would start with is 3:1:1:1 (fruit, oats, yogurt, nuts). If you have an immersion hand blender, whiz these together with a splash of milk or juice to thin it if desired. Or use a stand blender. I heavily encourage experimenting with other ingredients or ratios and drinking this in your favorite glass along with your slippers on. Cheers!