Cake for Breakfast!

This is the perfect no-effort breakfast. This is primarily because you need to make it the night before, or you will hate yourself in the morning. In the morning, brew coffee, cut yourself a slice, and bask in the glory of your ample foresight.

This recipe was originally yoinked from the good folks at the old Omnimedia: http://www.marthastewart.com/336020/strawberry-cake I like it better with peaches, but you can cover it with literally any fruit, or combination of fruits, that your little heart desires/are threatening to go sketchy in your fridge.

Without further ado:

You will need:
one DEEP* round** 8" or 9" pan
6 T butter plus 1 T butter for greasing the pan
1 c. sugar
1 large egg
1/2 cup milk or cream, or some combination therof
1 t. vanilla extract (note: I always use double strength and I never cut the amount)
3/4 c. all purpose flour
3/4 c. white whole wheat flour*** 1/2 t. salt
1/2 T. baking powder
1 lb (or so) peaches, skinned and cut into wedges.
3 T. raw sugar

You will do:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. and grease your baking vessel with 1 T of butter.

Mix flours, salt, and baking powder together in a bowl.

In a separate bowl (preferably one belonging to your electric mixer), cream together 6T of butter and 1 c. of sugar. Beat for about 3 minutes, scrape down the bowl, and then beat for another ~3 minutes. Scrape down the bowl and add the egg, beat for another 2ish minutes. Finally, scrape again and add the milk and mix for another minute or so. It will look a little bit curdled at this point, but it will get better. I promise.

Now, add half the dry ingredients to the mixer, beat for a minute, scrape down the sides and repeat. Now you have a lovely thick batter that you will now pour into your baking vessel. Don't forget to lick the beater/spoon/scraper/bowl/all of the above.

Arrange the peaches on top of the cake batter covering ever bit possible. Take your 3 T. of raw sugar and sprinkle it generously over the peaches. DO NOT SKIP THIS. I repeat, sprinkle the sugar on the fruit.****

Place cake in oven and bake for 10 minutes. I highly recommend washing up at this point. You'll thank yourself in the morning and you need to hang around for a bit anyway.

Now that the initial 10 minutes is up, turn the oven down to 325 degrees F and bake for another hour. Aren't you glad you aren't trying to do this in the morning?

When the cake is done (taste the toothpick, it will likely be covered in crud, but taste it to see if the aforementioned crud tastes raw), pull it out of the oven and place on a rack to cool. Turn the oven off (it's late). Throw a clean dish towel over top of the cake to keep the cat out of it and go to bed.

Wake to the knowledge that you are awesome. So awesome that someone else can make the coffee. 



*Don't even dream of attempting this in a shallow dish unless you were already planning on cleaning your oven. If you only have a shallow pie pan, at least have the good sense to make a Zuni chicken for dinner so the oven is a disaster anyway. Speaking of that most succulent of roast chickens, if you have a cast iron pan for your Zuni chicken, clean out the chicken crispies and it will work brilliantly for this.

**I use a ceramic pie dish, a springform would work, as would most cake pans, and as noted above, your trusty cast iron. You could probably use a square 8" if you've got it, but I haven't tried it. It would totally work though.

***Feel free to just use all purpose flour if you don't have this on hand. I buy the King Arthur White Whole Wheat flour and it's worth picking up. I think Gold Medal has one out now, too, but I haven't tried it. You can switch it for at least half the white flour in your recipes and actually add fiber and vitamins and stuff without impacting flavor/texture noticeably. Also it's not so expensive if you buy it at Target. 

****Obviously, if you don't have raw sugar, use regular. Just don't skip this step. It makes the fruit go all moist and jammy instead of becoming slowly dessicated and chewy-in-a-bad-way.

Winning Dinner

Popovers. They are easier than biscuits, and way more impressive. I have lifted this from Jamie Oliver's 30 minute meals, and it is dead simple and really, really tasty. You will eat at least three.

You will need:
1 c. flour
1 c. milk
1 egg (large)

2 T. butter, melted

You will do:
Put a standard muffin pan in the oven and heat it to 425 degrees F.

Melt the butter in the microwave.

Put the flour, milk and egg in the blender and blitz until combined (at least mostly, if there is some rogue flour stuck to the side, don't sweat it).

Note: work quickly, but do not rush. Once the oven is preheated, pull out the muffin tin and pour the butter amongst the 12 holes, and spread it around in the tins with a basting brush. Take the blender carafe and pour the batter in to fill each about 1/2 full. It's totally okay to just pour one continuous line and let the batter dribble on the muffin tin. It will be fine. Put the muffin tin back into the oven and let it bake for 12-15 minutes, until popovers are golden brown on the sides and popping out of the pans.

Remove from oven and disentangle from pan (may be a little tricky, but worth the effort).

Congratulations. You won dinner.



Extra credit: Match the popovers to whatever you are serving by adding a bit of chopped up herbs or spices that match or complement your meal after combining the main ingredients. Just throw them into the batter and blitz for another second. Seriously impressive for almost no work.

Chicken Portugese a la Maria

Certain parties (Theresa) have been pestering me for years for my version of this recipe. Finally, I have bothered to record what I actually do, rather than what the rather stained photocopy from Cooking at the Academy says*.

The original recipe produces a quartered chicken in a vegetable sauce, takes nowhere near as long, and is nowhere near as good as this fifth-derivative chicken stew. Start to finish, this recipe takes about 3 hours, the first two of which are completely hands-on. It is best served with homemade rosemary bread, which I will get around to posting at some later date. While this is not a quick meal, it is an exceptionally good one. You're welcome.

Seasoned Flour:

1/2 c. all purpose flour

1 t. garlic powder

1.5 t. onion powder

1 t salt

2 t black pepper (finely ground)

1/4-1/2 t. dried thyme

1/4-1/2 t. dried rosemary, crushed

~2 lbs boneless skinless chicken, cut into bite-sized chunks (.75-1" is what I do. Breasts are easiest, thighs are tastiest.)

8 oz sliced mushrooms

1 medium/large onion, chopped into 1/4" dice

2/3 head garlic, peeled, trimmed and chopped into 1/4" dice

1 14.5 oz can whole peeled tomatoes, drained, seeded, and chopped

olive oil

3/4 c. white wine

1 c. chicken stock

3/4 c chopped parsley

Combine spices for seasoned flour in a mortar and pestle and grind until relatively uniform. Add spices to flour in a large, shallow bowl.

Heat 2 T of olive oil in a 5 qt dutch oven on stove (high-end of medium heat).

Toss a handful of chicken chunks in the flour mixture and coat thoroughly. Shake the chicken pieces off and saute on each side until golden brown. Move cooked chicken to a bowl and continue with this process until all of the chicken is cooked. If you have any of the flour mixture left at the end, throw it in with the last handful of chicken. Add oil to the pot as necessary.

After removing the last of the chicken from the dutch oven, add a bit more oil, then the onions, garlic. Saute 1-2 minutes stirring constantly then add mushrooms, saute for 1 minute stirring constantly and add tomatoes.

Add white wine to the pot and scrape at the bottom to release any stuck-on bits. Add chicken stock. Return chicken to the pot. Stir. If the liquid in the pot is a bit pasty, add a little bit more liquid so that it loosens up a bit. The liquid should NOT cover the chicken and whatnot in the pot.

Add parsley and stir. Bring to a boil and reduce heat to low. Simmer for ~30 minutes. Serve with rosemary bread.

Note: If you are feeling quite fancy (and tolerant of soggy bread) make the rosemary bread into bread bowls. If you are feeding Barney, he will love it.

* I photocopy essentially all of my recipes and store them in binders**, organized by category (assuming they are worth making again). It keeps my books readable and is darn handy when I'm going through the freezer with only half a functioning brain cell and want a no-fail recipe.

**We are currently at 3 binders, but that will probably increase in the near future when we have the recipe reckoning and actually file away the giant pile of xeroxes that are accumulating.

{this moment} - Day Late and a Dollar Short Super Triple Extreme!

lifted from my sister, who lifted it from SouleMama. In the words of its creator: A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Pineapple-Porky Goodness

The following message is Mycroft approved*:

Alrighty, I've been getting harassment on all sides, so I'll post how to make pineapple carnitas (cue heavenly music). There will be no pictures because, to be frank, all of the carnitas done got et before it occurred to me to stop eating from the pot with my fingers and grab for a camera.

I first got this wicked craving (or idea, as it would be known to people who are not me) from smitten kitchen, who was stealing from homesick texan, bless their hearts. The pineapple part comes from my own fancy combined with my traditional cooking method of grabbing whatever is sitting by the stove. Miracles occur.

Without further ado:

You will need:

~3-4 lbs. of pork shoulder cut into ~2" chunks (for reals 2", not like the 1/2" dice that means 1/4" - we need BIG chunks for this to work out right)
~ 1 T. of salt (Don't be shy. There is a lot of meat here and salt makes food taste good.)
~juice from 1/2 pineapple**
~ a dutch oven or heavy bottomed pot that can hold this whole glorious mess.

You will do:

Toss the pork chunks, pineapple juice, and salt into the pot, cover with water (just barely, a few corners or edges poking out are totally fine) and place over low heat for about two hours, uncovered. And don't you dare start fussing with it. We are making magic here, lids and fussing will ruin the magic.

After your two hours of putzing about the house and becoming more and more ravenous, crank the heat up to medium-high and boil off the remaining water, stirring/poking/fussing occasionally. The remaining fat in the pan will fry the pork on the outside and give you crispy goodness. This should take about ~45 mins from when you crank up the heat.

When the meat is done cooking - for the love of fuzzy kittens - scrape everything off the bottom of the pan (You might want to hoard this part for yourself. If you are a more generous soul than I, you might mix it in with the rest of the pork and let others share in your crispy, delicious bounty).

Should you have the restraint to still have pork at this time (you may laugh, but get a few extra hands in the kitchen and watch it disappear), put it on a taco-sized tortilla with your favorite taco accoutrements. My standby for carnitas is a corn tortilla, avocado slices, a dab of crema fresca, and a tiny bit of minced cilantro. Keep it simple and let the pork-glory shine.


*This cat will eat entire blocks of the meat. Plural. In minutes. And beg for more. I'm pretty sure he would hop in the pot and eat his way out if we turned our backs for a second after pulling it off the stove.

** To juice a pineapple:
1) Cut off the top and bottom with a VERY sharp knife.
2) Set the pineapple down on one of its newly flat ends and use your VERY sharp knife to cut longitudinally down the pineapple so that you see the yellow flesh dotted with some little round brown circles with a pokey bit in the middle (these are fine to eat and you need to sacrifice way too much flesh to get them off entirely).
3) Cut the flesh from the hard core your pineapple***
4) Slice your flesh-slabs into 1" sticks, and then chop into chunks.
5) Mash half of your chunks with a potato masher, and then strain through a sieve.
6) Fight your two-year-old niece for the remaining pineapple chunks.


***I discovered that I like pineapple a week before a month-long south-pacific adventure. I basically had pineapple or fresh-squeezed pineapple juice for breakfastlunchanddinner. As with most foods consumed in their natural environment, in the height of their season****, they are much riper than their long-shipped brethren. Properly fresh pineapple is MUCH sweeter and does not need to be cored. They are generally just quartered longways and sliced. The core is maybe 1/4". It tastes like heaven. I was spoiled for life.

****If you, or someone you know, can access this sort of pineapple, please send pineapple!!!!!!

Back by Popular Demand*

More pictures of Mycroft!

Here he is informing Mark that loving the cat is more important than work!



Since Mark decided that graduating and money are things we might want, Mycroft has agreed that Mark may proceed with feline assistance!



Now he is killing things!



Now he is becoming acquainted with his new jungle!**



Here he is conquering his new domain!



In other news, the cat smells rather savory.***






*Ok, so maybe just my mom.

**Ah, the joys of the first really-real frost warning of the year. They are indoor plants now. Time to get out the grow light 'cause we won't see real sun again until June.

***And also like farts. If anyone knows what to feed a kitten so that they do not stank up the joint, please share. He is currently eating Science Diet Kitten, and I don't think it agrees with him. Judging from the smell, he is rotting on the inside.

Pasta with Corn, Pancetta, Butter & Sage - or - Happy Puppy Dance in the Kitchen

My uncle, the Harry the Foodie, sent me a lovely gift after my last visit: The Zuni Cafe Cookbook by Judy Rogers. This book is, as Harry told me, a philosophy of cooking. In sum: 1) observe everything at every stage with all relevant senses; 2) keep track of these observations; 3) keep adjusting until you find yourself doing the Happy Puppy Dance in front of the stove. In kind, my thank-you note is waiting for slightly colder weather so that I can send it happily bundled with with pork products. (I'm trying to find the good in frost warnings. It's a green tomato party, not "Crap, my plants are frozen" Day.)

I have been studying this book in what spare time I have, and beginning to apply the principles to my cooking adventures. As I was looking up approximate quantities for bird-salting, I came across the creatively titled Pasta with Corn, Pancetta, Butter & Sage. Seeing as I had everything but the corn on hand, and the grocery store is a 10 minute walk, I went for it. I halved the recipe seeing as there are only the two of us (plus the cat, but he is very small and does not need pasta - he did get some pancetta, though). There were still leftovers (about 2 full cups) that I think will be quite excellent. The bright side of the rather vast quantity of fat in this recipe (other than it tastes awesome) is that that it is very satisfying. You know your appetite better than I do. Scale accordingly.

Be forewarned: this recipe is an excuse to use butter. Go with it. Be kind to your arteries on another night, but this one...we'll just call it a sometimes food. And don't forget to do the Happy Puppy Dance. That is the best part.

You will need (for a half-recipe):

1.5 oz pancetta, minced (please see pork products, above)
~a stick of butter (we're getting all Paula up in here)
Some water
4 big and healthy sage leaves, roughly chopped (I remove the biggest stem from mine)
Freshly cracked black pepper
8 oz pasta of your choice (I used a small rigatoni, but the original calls for something fettucini-ish)
Salt
the kernels sliced off of 2 ears of the best sweet corn you can find (I'm sure this would be better in June, but it was still great in September)

Get your pasta water started. Salt approximately 1 t of salt per 1 quart of water.

Melt 1-2 T of butter in your favorite skillet (I used a 10" cast iron) over medium-low heat. Throw in the pancetta and stir/scrape until it has browned very slightly on the edges and it begins to sizzle in the fat. Kill the heat and drop in a tiny bit (seriously, tiny bit) of water to cool the pan. Add another 2-3 T butter and then dump in the sage and black pepper to taste. Swirl the pan so the sage and pepper can infuse the butter.

Your water should be boiling now. Throw in your pasta and cook it until it is al dente (did I mention that cooking is the ONE thing in life that I can successfully multitask?).

When your pasta is a couple minutes out, put the skillet back on on a medium heat. Dump in the rest of the butter and swirl until the butter is melted. Throw in the corn and stir. Cook this just until the corn is heated all the way through. (If your corn is dry, she says to add a dribble of pasta water. I didn't have this problem, so I didn't do it.) Adjust your saltiness at this point. Reduce the heat to low to just keep the corn/savories warm.

Drain your perfectly al dente pasta and toss with the sauce. Adjust your saltiness again. You should be doing the Happy Puppy Dance by this point.

She also says to serve with freshly grated Parmigiano-Reggiano. This is the only part of the recipe that I didn't think was necessary.

Public Service

It has occurred to me that the internet has insufficient pictures of kittens. Please allow me to do my part to remedy this tragedy. This is Mycroft:

This is pretty much how he spent is his first day home. Mark and I got him from the Ozaukee Humane Society yesterday (after I spent the previous 24 hours cyber-stalking a kitten, hoping that no one else would steal him from me). He is 11 weeks old and was found as a stray two weeks ago. He is a bit skittish, but very affectionate. I think he'll grow out of the former and more into the latter.

As of today, he is willing to be out from under the bookshelf while Mark and I are in the room, but he still does not like when we are standing up or walking. I think we are too big for him.

He's starting to take the high ground, and I think in a few days he will be ready to venture from the office into the rest of the house. We've got a bit of work to do to get ready for him.

Shephardish Pie

I'm having one of those days where I leave my USB drive in the lab that I don't have a key to, my code won't compile for me (but for my friend), I get distracted by shiny things, and look at kittens on the internet (I will cut someone if they adopt my kitty before I get to him). Let's hark back to times of much, much greater success.





This recipe is the result of a fridge cleaning expedition gone right. Mark and I were going to make pizza, then we didn't. Then I decided that I wanted to make pasties. Then I was too lazy to make crusts. Then I decided to make a shepherd's pie. Then I remembered that I don't like shepherd's pie. Then I threw stuff in a pan. It was awesome.

You will need:
3 small leeks, quartered lengthwise and diced
12 oz mushrooms, sliced
1 lb cooked mild Italian sausage, cooked
~1/4 c. roughly chopped sage
~1/2 c. apple cider
3 T butter
salt
pepper
1-2 potatoes, sliced

Heat the oven to ~350 deg. F (or somewhere there about)

Saute the leeks in 2T butter in a pan/skillet until they start smelling really, really good. Throw in the mushrooms and cook, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms have given off their liquids and are starting to caramelize. Now add the Italian sausage, sage, and apple cider. Salt and pepper to taste.

Transfer all of this into some sort of casserole/oven-proof dish. Arrange the potato slices so that they cover the filling completely. dot with the remaining 1 T of butter. Bake for ~20 minutes and then move to top rack and broil until the potatoes are starting to brown and crisp up.

This doesn't really bind to itself, so it makes a pile of food on the plate, but it makes up for relatively poor presentation by having a great personality.

{this moment}

lifted from my sister, who lifted it from SouleMama. In the words of its creator: A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

Chicken Tikka Masala

If you've ever forayed into the making of Indian food, you've realized that, on the whole, Indians aren't exactly shy with the spices. It's not a "add 1/2 teaspoon of oregano and 1/2 teaspoon of thyme" sort of thing, it's a "this is why spices are sold in bulk" sort of thing. This recipe calls for well over 1/2 cup of spices when all is said and done. I would definitely recommend keeping all of the non-pepper spicing, regardless of whether or not you think you like "spicy" food. If you don't like it hot, I would cut the peppers in the marinade in 1/2 (if that still seems like a lot to you, keep in mind that the yogurt cuts the hotness significantly) and start with 1/4 t. of cayenne in the sauce and work your way up from there, tasting as you go. This is why we have spoons. And also why the cook is not hungry by the time dinner is served (or is that just me?).

A note on hotness: I was using extra hot cayenne powder and this came out around a 7 on Maria's Scale of Hotness. Apparently my 7 kills the average Midwesterner (or so I have been led to believe). I thought that this was a bit much as when you get past a 6 or so, the hot begins to overwhelm the spicy. Next time I make this, I will likely keep the amounts the same and use a regular cayenne powder, which puts it around a 5 on Maria's Scale of Hotness. That is precisely where Maria prefers her Tikka Masala to be: hot enough to make your lips tingle a little bit, but balanced enough that you can still taste everything else in the pot.

A note on sauce: If you plan to use your blender/immersion blender/food processor, you can be a little bit lazy when cutting up the veg. If you don't want to do that step, get everything down as close to a proper mince as possible. You'll thank yourself later.

Day 1 (or the morning of):

Cut 1 1/2 lbs. boneless skinless chicken cut into 1" cubes

Marinade:

1 T cumin
1 T red pepper flakes
1 T black pepper
1 t salt
1/2 T cinnamon
1 T paprika (I generally use 1/2 sweet paprika and 1/2 hot paprika)
1 t turmeric
1" ginger, grated or minced
1/2 lemon, juiced and zested
1 c. plain yogurt

Grind up any spices that haven't been ground already, and mix everything together in a big tupperware or plastic bag (whatever you like to marinate in). Add the chicken and stir/squish about to coat the chicken thoroughly. Throw this in the fridge and try to remember it in the next few days.

Now let's get cooking:

For the sauce you will need:

(I like a saucy curry, so I make a lot. You can halve this if you prefer your curries dryer.)

3 T butter
1 c chopped onion
2" ginger, grated or minced
10 cloves garlic, minced (just trust me on this one)
2 T cumin
1 1/2 T. sweet paprika
1/2 t. cinnamon
2 t. cayenne powder (Note to self: halve this if using super hot cayenne)
1/2 t. turmeric
~1 T. salt (start with 1/2 this and then taste as you add more. It seems like a lot, but it actually works out well)
2 c. tomato sauce (I generally use canned)
1 c. cream

Start by pulling the chicken out of the fridge so it can warm up enough that you don't freeze your hands and end up with claws when making the kebabs later. Trust me on this one. And turn on the broiler while you're at it.

Heat the butter in a ~3 qt. heavy-bottomed pot over medium heat and grind any spices that aren't already. Once the butter is melted, add the onion and stir. cook until onion is softened. Add the garlic and ginger and continue cooking for a few more minutes. Next add all of the spices, stir, and marvel at the colors. Cook, stirring frequently for a couple more minutes and add the tomato sauce, stir, cover and turn the heat down to low, stirring occasionally.

Spray a cookie sheet with high-heat nonstick spray and assemble chicken kebabs, placing them on the cookie sheet as they are completed. Broil for ~5 minutes, turn and broil for another ~5 minutes or until the kebabs are fully cooked. Remove kebabs from oven and set aside.

Back at the stove: add cream to sauce and puree.

Remove chicken from kebabs and add to sauce, stirring to coat.

Serve with cumin rice and naan.

Edited to add: Holy crap! This stuff is even better a couple of days in. The hot spices mellow a bit and step back from center stage and the curry spices make friends with one another and become even more delicious than they were fresh. Yum. Tragically, I think I'm going to run out of naan before I run out of curry, and I don't see cooking time before Friday...

Cumin Rice

This one's a teaser, and there will be no pictures for the foreseeable future due to time/give a damn constraints.

Cumin Rice (Goes with curry...yes, this is foreshadowing)
1 c. Basmati rice (I use brown basmati)
2 c. Water
1/2 T. Cumin (whole seeds)
1-2 T. Butter

Combine ingredients in a pan. Heat on high until boiling. Reduce heat to a simmer on low and cover. Let it cook for ~20-30 minutes, until all liquid is absorbed.

Or you can use a rice cooker, if that's your thing. We don't have them-thar fancy small appliances around these parts, so I stick with a pan.

No-Sun Dried Tomatoes

My lab scheduled a picnic potluck for Jazz in the Park. Leading up to our the day of our scheduled picnic, the weather was beautiful with sunny skies. Following the day of our scheduled picnic, the weather was beautiful with sunny skies. The day of our picnic was unceasing torrential downpour creating Escalade-eating sinkholes and flooding every basement in the Midwest.

We rescheduled our picnic for River Rhythms the following week. The weather report was identical, with gorgeous skies before and after and epic flooding scheduled for our picnic, but we stuck to our guns and were rewarded for our tenacity with a beautiful evening and six surprisingly good bands.



Given my need to over-plan all things except vacations, I had already bought tomatoes for a bulgur-tomato-oregano salad-thing before the floods. I figured I could still use them with a slight change of plan: Dried tomato slices with goat cheese and a sliced baguette. My labmates approved mightily of Plan B.



The secret ingredient is a dead simple not-even recipe, everything else was store-bought.

Ingredient:
Delicious tomatoes you can't use before they spoil

Directions:
Slice tomatoes ~1/4 inch thick (you will really want a sharp knife for this)
Line baking sheet(s) with parchment paper
Arrange tomato slices in a single layer on the parchment paper(s)
Put in oven on LOWEST setting until dry (if you have a pilot light and your oven is generally above 100 degrees F, don't even bother turning it on)

You will know they are done when they don't squish anymore when you poke them. I left mine overnight. If your oven is on, it will take less time to dry the tomatoes, but you may end up cooking some of the flavor out of them.

Peel dried tomatoes off of parchment paper. Store in tupperware or a bag. I got six romas into a 1 cup container.

Bitchin' Banana Bread

I ended up with a ridiculous surplus of bananas. Not shockingly, they went a little bit sketch. There is one word for this situation: Awesome.



My solution to this non-problem is adapted from the ABC Children's cookbook



To participate in the awesome, you will need:

3 sketchy bananas
3/4 c. of sugar
1/2 c. of vegetable oil
2 eggs
2 c. all-purpose flour
1 t. baking powder
1/2 t. baking soda
1/2 t. salt
2 t. vanilla extract
3/4 c. chocolate chunks (I really, really like the 365 organic mini-chunks from Whole Foods. Feel free to substitute whatever you want.)
1/2 c. chopped walnuts (optional)

1. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F and grease up a bread pan. (I use PAM)
2. Put the sketchy bananas and the sugar in a bowl and mash them up with a wooden spoon. I like to leave mine a little bit lumpy.
3. Add the vegetable oil, eggs, and vanilla and stir until the liquids are incorporated.
4. Add the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt and stir until incorporated.
5. Now mix in the chocolate chunks and walnuts.
6. Pour the batter into the baking pan and put it in the oven for 60-70 minutes.
7. Lick the bowl.
8. Test the bread with a toothpick or cake tester. When it comes out clean, your bread is done. Take it out of the oven and set the bread, in the pan, on a cooling rack and let it set for 10 minutes. (Fair warning, if it comes out dirty after 65+ minutes try sticking a clean tester somewhere else. You probably hit a banana vein.)
9. Turn the bread out onto the cooling rack and let it cool to room temperature.
10. Slice and enjoy.

When you've had your initial fill, wrap the banana bread in saran wrap and it will keep for longer than it will last. I also have it on good authority that it freezes well, but I haven't had any last long enough to test this myself.

Spicy Pineapple Teriyaki Flank Steak

Let's get something straight: There are few things that I enjoy more in life than picnics and barbecues. Any chance to combine them is even better. This lovely meal was pre-meditated grilling combined with impromptu picnic. Does it get any better?



This also serves as an excellent reminder that my memory of recipes is somewhat (read: extremely) unreliable. I ended up with a couple of un-identified greenish-yellow peppers. This made me think of a recipe for flank steak that I just knew was a spicy-fruity-teriyaki in Cooking at the Academy. Fun fact: there is a recipe for flank steak in that book, and it bears precisely no resemblance, aside from the cut of beef, from what I was imagining.

Left to my own devices, I came up with the following:

2 peppers
1 can crushed pineapple
1 1/2" ginger, peeled and grated
1/3 c soy sauce
1/8 c brown sugar, packed

I started by seeding the peppers by cutting around the tops with a thin-bladed knife and pulling out the seeds by the stem:


Next, I sliced the peppers into thin pepper rings, roughly 1/8" thick. I threw those in a large, well-sealing plastic tupperware-thing along with the crushed pineapple, and then grated the ginger into the mixture. Then I added the soy sauce and brown sugar, put the lid on, and gave everything a good shake to mix the ingredients.

At this point, add the flank steak, making sure to bury it well in the marinade. Put the tupperware in the fridge and leave it there for at least a few hours, and up to overnight.

When you are ready to cook, heat up the grill, fish out the flank steak, wipe off any excess marinade, and grill to your heart's content. Keep an eye on the meat so that you get it to whatever level of doneness pleases you. I generally go for a true medium, where it is still pink inside, but is warm throughout.

When your meat is cooked how you like it, pull it off and let it rest for a couple of minutes on a cutting board to let the juices re-distribute and then slice it against the grain. Serve and enjoy.

(Food safety hint: NEVER EAT A MARINADE WITHOUT COOKING IT. If you want to make a sauce from the marinade, strain out the chunks and BOIL the marinade. Would you lick raw hamburger? Then why would you use a marinade as a sauce?)

Door County's Finest

My coworker, PK, came in today and set down a giant (seriously) tupperware on the lunch table.

Inner Voice: Cherries?

PK: My friend went to Door County this weekend and gave us a bunch of cherries.

Inner voice: Cherries!

PK: But they are not really good for eating...

Inner voice: Jam?

PK: they are really sour, not sweet like regular cherries.

Inner voice: Jam!!!

PK: I was wondering if you wanted to do anything with them, like make a pie or something.

Outer voice: I will bring you jam tomorrow!

After a quick consultation with the almighty Google, I found a man after my own heart. The link is David Lebovitz's non-recipe for cherry jam. I think I may follow his example of non-recipes, because frankly, I seldom really cook by them. Writing up the hummus I felt like I was focusing so much on trying to figure out how much of whatever I was using, I couldn't replicate my standard hummus because I was using too much of my engineer-brain and not enough of my food-brain. I'm thinking future posts will be more in the vein of knitting recipes, where the focus is getting the end product by trying on as you go and making any necessary alterations, than chemistry experiments, which tend to be explicit about the steps while strictly prohibiting putting things in your mouth.

Ingredients:
Bucket 'o Door County's Finest
Lemons
Sugar
Almond Extract

I started by pitting the roughly 10-12 cups of cherries , and then chopped them into bits, ending up with roughly 5-6 cups of this:



(I highly recommend putting your phone on hands free and catching up with your calls for this part. I also highly recommend a cherry pitter. It is a unitasker, but it does its job very, very well.)

To the cherry bits, I added the zest and juice of two lemons and then threw the whole mess into an enameled cast-iron pot, brought it slowly up to a simmer, and then cooked it, stirring, for about 25 minutes (in an un-air-conditioned apartment, in July, no less. This has been killing my desire to cook of late. A donkey cart full of cherries solves all of life's problems).

After everything was nice and soft, I measured out my cherry mush (in my case, 3 cups) and added 3/4 as much sugar as there was mush (which was 2 1/4 cups). Usually I don't put in nearly as much sugar as recommended because I don't like super-sweet jams, but these puppies were sour and two lemons sure didn't help. After stirring in the sugar, I put everything back on the heat, this time cranking it as high as it would go. I brought the now-rather-sticky goop back to boiling, stirring the whole time, and kept it going strong until it was jelling on the my frozen spoons (I put all of my tablespoons in my beer-mug in the freezer before starting this bit). After pulling everything off the heat, I added a tiny splash of almond extract, because cherries and almonds were meant to be together (now I want scones).



I canned two using a water bath, and the half-jar is in the fridge, silently willing me to make bread tomorrow.

I seem to have a tendency to over-thicken my jam. This doesn't bother me texturally, but I am somewhat disappointed to get 1 1/4 pints of jam from a metric arse-ton of cherries, awesome though that jam may be. I consulted my sister, and she recommended actually using pectin next time, or at least using my candy thermometer to make sure I'm not boiling past jelly, i.e. 220 deg. F.

In conclusion, JAM!!!

Fat and Happy Hummus and Pita Chips

If you ever find yourself in Tucson, AZ, do yourself a favor and stop by the Fat Greek. While I’m pretty sure you can’t go wrong with anything on their menu, my favorite thing is their hummus. I play a little game with myself before I go there. I convince myself that it can’t possibly be as good as I remember, and then I am corrected every time: it is even better. A perfect balance of earthy and savory, it comes out in a paper-lined basket, drizzled with olive oil and herbs along with toasty hot triangles of Greek bread. I generally end up sitting outside and watching passers by, burning my fingers a little on the still-steaming pita topped with cool, delicious hummus. Patience is a finite resource, and I wouldn’t waste it on something like this.

I once asked them to reveal their secret, and they told me garlic and oregano. Even with that knowledge, I couldn’t replicate that flavor until I stumbled on a small, but crucial, fact: “Greek oregano” is not the same thing as “oregano.” I haven’t the faintest clue what the difference is botanically speaking, but flavor-wise, don’t bother with “oregano” when attempting to make Mediterranean food, find the “Greek oregano”. It sounds obvious, but I can be a little slow sometimes.

Using my newfound knowledge, I began developing my own variation. What I’ve come up with is a little bit heavier, but rather good, if I do say so myself.

I generally start out with dried garbanzos, and then soak and boil them. It can be a bit of a pain, but I think they turn out much better (I will happily eat them with a spoon), and you can definitely make use of economies of scale. For instance, I boiled up two pounds of dried beans when I decided to make hummus. A few cups were used for hummus, and the rest are sitting in their broth in my fridge, waiting for further inspiration.

Hummus:
1 ½ c. garbanzo beans, boiled
2 cloves garlic, quartered
½ t. salt
1 ½ t. dried Greek oregano
Juice of ½ lemon
4 t. Tahini
1 T. olive oil
a few T. of garbanzo broth

Add the garbanzos, garlic, salt, oregano, Tahini, olive oil, and lemon juice to a food processer. Pulse bit to get things started, and then blend. Add the garbanzo broth leftover from cooking a little at a time to thin the mixture until you reach your desired consistency. Tweak the measures a little until you are thrilled with it. If it is a little too sharp, a bit more tahini will add earthiness, if it is a little to earthy, a little more lemon will punch it up. This game is all about balance.

And because hummus should not always be eaten directly off of a spoon (or finger, if I’m being honest), I’ve also thrown in some pita chips.

Pita Chips:
~4 small pitas (I use more of an arab style, i.e. with pockets, than a greek style, i.e., flat)
1 t. salt
1 t. Greek oregano
¼ t. garlic powder
Spray oil (like PAM)

Heat your oven to 300 degrees F. Cut your pitas into little triangles (I generally cut mine into sixths), and then split each triangle in half. Now all of your triangles will have a smooth side and a more textured side. Lay the bread triangles textured-side-up on a baking sheet and spray them with a bit of oil. Put all of your spices into a mortar and pestle (or if you are using a food processer, do this before making the hummus to avoid doing the dishes twice), and grind them into a fine powder. Sprinkle the spice powder across the oiled pitas and put them in the oven.

Now you need to keep yourself busy around the kitchen so that you don’t wander off and burn your pita chips. This is a good time to tidy up. Keep checking on the chips every couple of minutes. You can easily test how done they are by pushing down on one of the triangles (do mind the hot metal all around them). If it feels soft or squishy, they need more time. Once it firms up and becomes crispy, they are ready. If you want to brown them, leave them in a bit longer, and watch them like a hawk. Let them cool a little, and then serve.