strawberry rhubarb pie

Ooooh weee. That was quite a break if I do say so myself. It feels like those carbomb cupcakes happened a lifetime ago. I’ve gotta start by saying that I sure have missed you. Not a single day went by where I didn’t think about this place. And I made several attempts to share things here. But nothing felt right. So it seemed like the only thing to do was take a time out.

But being away for so long was beginning to stress me out a bit, similar to the way cutting class in high school and college would make me feel crazy. One day turns into five and then you find yourself scrambling for an excuse for your absence. I was starting to worry that I’d never find my way back here. But I love this space more than anything, so I knew I’d figure it out eventually.

I don’t have much of an excuse for our little hiatus. I didn’t skip town or run into any trouble with the law. I did have a mean case of writer’s block. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have a grand ole time. There were parties and dance parties and really great shows (Band of Horses and Beach House in the same week!) and brunches and nights out with friends – old friends, new friends, best friends, friends from out of town. I drank fantastic whiskey cocktails. I Instagramed. There were a few serious, not-so-fun moments thrown in there as well. To sum it up, life was just happening.

If you’ve been tuning in here for a while now, you might’ve figured out that I have a thing for rhubarb. I wait all year for those gorgeous pink stalks to show up at the market. And when they do, I can’t contain myself. One year it was these ice pops, last year it was this boozy fool and a couple of batches of jam. This time around, all I really wanted was a good old fashioned strawberry rhubarb pie.

I’ve made a couple of strawberry rhubarb pies in my time, and if I’m being totally honest, none of them were great. They were all a little too soupy, a bit too tart. So when I found a recipe that required sauteing the rhubarb, and macerating and draining the strawberries before baking, I was pretty sure I had found a winner. Plus, an all-butter lattice-top crust is always enticing.

I was totally smitten with this pie, but I was convinced that I would love it even more if I swapped out the allspice in the original recipe for vanilla bean. So I gave it another go. And it was just what the doctor ordered. Flaky crust, sweet-tart fruit and a dollop of whipped cream on top is a truly wonderful thing.

strawberry rhubarb pie 

adapted just slightly from The Wall Street Journal Online

makes one 9-inch pie

for the all-butter pie crust:

2-1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon sugar

2 sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch pieces

8 to 10 tablespoons ice water, or more as needed, with a splash of cider vinegar

Stir dry ingredients together in a large bowl.

Add butter to the dry ingredients and coat it using a spoon or spatula. Using a pastry blender, cut butter into the flour until mostly pea-sized pieces of butter remain (a few larger pieces are okay; do not over-blend).

Sprinkle 4 tablespoons ice water over the mixture and cut the water in with a spatula. When water is fully incorporated, add more water, one to two tablespoons at a time, and mix until the dough comes together in a ball, with some dry bits remaining.

Squeeze and pinch with your fingertips to bring all the dough together, sprinkling dry bits with drops of ice water if necessary to combine.

Divide dough in half. Shape each half into a flat disc, wrap in plastic and refrigerate for at least an hour, preferably overnight. Wrapped tightly, dough can be refrigerated for three days or frozen for one month.

for the pie:

all butter pie crust 

2 cups strawberries, hulled and quartered

3 cups rhubarb, cut into ¾-inch pieces

2 tablespoons vegetable oil 

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/2 vanilla bean, seeds scraped

1 grind fresh black pepper

3 tablespoons arrowroot (or tapioca starch or corn starch)

1 to 2 dashes Fee Brothers rhubarb bitters (or Old Fashioned bitters)

1 teaspoon orange zest

1-1/2 teaspoons al-purpose flour 

1 egg

1 tablespoon milk or heavy cream

1 tablespoon raw sugar

Preheat oven to 425°F. Butter a 9-inch pie pan.

Sprinkle 1 tablespoon sugar over strawberries. Let sit 1 hour.

Roll out one disc of pie dough into a 12-inch circle, about  1/8 of an inch thick. Place disc in pie pan and trim the edge, leaving 1 inch of overhang. Place in fridge to chill.

Roll out the second disc of pie dough and cut into 1-inch-wide lattice strips. Lay strips on a sheet pan lined with parchment paper and place in fridge to chill.

Heat vegetable oil in a large sauté pan over medium-high heat. Sauté rhubarb until it softens slightly, about 5 minutes. Transfer to a large bowl, sprinkle with lemon juice and let cool.

In a medium bowl, whisk together brown sugar, ¼ cup sugar, salt, black pepper and arrowroot.

Using a slotted spoon, transfer strawberries into bowl with cooled rhubarb, leaving behind most juices.

Add bitters, orange zest, vanilla, and dry mixture to fruit mixture. Stir gently with a spatula.

Sprinkle 1½ teaspoons flour and 1½ teaspoons granulated sugar into bottom of prepared pie shell and spread around with your fingertips.

Pour filling into pie pan, arrange lattice on top and crimp edges.

Lightly beat together egg and cream or milk and brush pie top with it. Sprinkle with raw sugar.

Place pie on a baking sheet and bake in the lower third of the oven for 15 minutes.

Reduce oven temperature to 350°F, move pie to center rack and continue to bake for 40 to 50 minutes, or until filling is bubbling and pastry is golden.

Allow to cool at least 2 hours. Serve with fresh whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. Best served same day it is made.

crispy stuffed squash blossoms

Don’t you love those weekends when you come home and feel totally recharged? The past two weekends have been that way. One weekend was filled with music and late nights and brunches and dancing followed by a weekend in the mountains involving long drives and junk food, bourbon and rowdiness and spoons. It was a perfect ending to a somewhat uneventful July.

The beginning of July is a blur. I can barely remember what I did or where I was. With the exception of the end, July was, for the most part, unmemorable. What I do remember about July is my squash blossom fixation.

I’d been thinking about fried squash blossoms since last summer, when Adrian and I had dinner at Bar Bambino one night after work. We started with the most incredible ricotta stuffed, battered and fried squash blossoms. They were awesome – hot, crispy, light. They were so awesome that I can barely remember what else we ate or drank that evening. They left quite an impression, so much so that they stayed on my mind for an entire year.

Last summer, I had a really hard time finding squash blossoms at the market. This year is a different story. They’re everywhere. The Ferry Building Farmer’s Market has a vendor that sells them by the carton. And I’ve also spotted them at Berkeley Bowl. They’re even in my own little container garden this year. I’m ecstatic. And I’ve been indulging.

When filled with mozzarella and battered and fried, the squash blossoms are like a smaller, lighter Italian version of the chile relleno. The combination of the warm melted cheese and the crispy outer coating is extremely satisfying. I especially like the addition of anchovy, which makes the filling really nice and  flavorful. If you eat them immediately after frying with a sprinkle of salt and a squeeze of lemon, I promise you’ll be a happy camper.

crispy stuffed squash blossoms

adapted from Saveur

serves 6-8

24 zucchini blossoms

3/4 pound mozzarella

12 anchovy fillets

4 eggs

1 cup flour

freshly ground black pepper

vegetable oil

salt

lemon wedges (for serving)

Carefully remove the stems and stamens from zucchini blossoms. Swirl the blossoms in cold water to wash. Shake off excess water and pat dry.

Coarsely chop mozzarella and anchovies, and combine in a mixing bowl. Carefully stuff each blossom with mixture and twist petals to retain stuffing.

Beat eggs in a small bowl. Pour 1 cup flour into a second shallow pan and season with salt and pepper. Heat 2-1/2 inches vegetable oil in a skillet over high heat until very hot, about 375°F  if you have a candy thermometer.

Working in small batches, dredge each stuffed blossom in flour; dip into eggs, turning to coat well, then dredge in seasoned flour. Fry blossoms, turning frequently, until crisp, 3–5 minutes. Drain on paper towels, sprinkle with salt, and serve immediately with lemon wedges.

NY, I love you

It’s true. I’ve rekindled my romance with the Big Apple. The last time I was in New York was early 2006, which now feels like several lifetimes ago. Back then I was twenty-four and thought that I’d be living there by the time I turned thirty. But life takes its course, and you know how that goes.

Here we are, five years later and it’s exactly four months before my thirtieth birthday. And while I’d had a change of heart regarding my residency (I’m unhealthily attached to the Bay Area), it appears that I’ve fallen in love with New York all over again. Who could blame a girl after five and a half days of New York springtime, non-stop laughs, endless walking and too.much.to.eat? There was Alexander McQueen at the Met, which was absolutely breathtaking. And Music 3.0 at MoMA was awesome, too. I couldn’t have asked for a better trip. Except for the fact that I wish I could have stayed for a few more days (or weeks, or months).

So it’s probably no surprise that I pretty much ate my way through the city. I ate everything: bagels, cookies, cupcakes, gelato, lobster rolls, lox, pie, pizza, popsicles, a Reuben, rugelach.

Here are a few of my favorites:

zabar’s

I cannot go to New York without making at least one stop at Zabar’s. I managed to get there twice on this trip. Zabar’s is sort of my Mecca. After we got settled, we hopped on the train and made our way to the Upper West Side. I headed straight to the upper level to wander around their ginormous housewares department. Then I went to get my rugelach. After that I spent about ten minutes admiring the fish counter before finally deciding on the gravlax. There’s nothing like paper thin slices of salt-cured salmon, buttery and tender with little bits of dill. I piled it on my bagel the following morning. It was a pretty great way to start the day.

elsa

I had the best dark and stormy at Elsa, a cute little bar in the East Village. Elsa’s dark and stormy is mixed with their house-made ginger beer, which has little bits of fresh ginger that give it a nice kick without being overwhelming. If I lived in New York, I would start (or end) all of my dates at Elsa. It’s nicely lit and the tables and booths are well arranged and their cocktail list is very enticing – perfect for sampling and staying a while.

katz’s delicatessen

The rumors are true. Everything you hear about Katz’s being the best New York deli and making to-die-for pastrami, all of it is true. My pops slipped me a Benjamin the morning I left for New York and told me to buy myself a Katz’s sandwich on him. So I did. And it was OMG-delicious. I ordered the combo Reuben on rye with corned beef and pastrami. The meat was juicy and flavorful and perfect. It was seriously the best Reuben I’ve ever had. Ever. I had to stop myself from eating the whole thing in one sitting (I happily ate the other half for breakfast the next day). Thanks, Rodney.

four & twenty blackbirds

I’m so glad we made it to this sweet little pie shop in Brooklyn, which is a little off the beaten path. Out of all of the bakeries/sweet shops we visited, and there were many, Four & Twenty Blackbirds was my favorite. I tried three of their pies: salted caramel apple, lemon chess and strawberry balsamic. I actually ordered the strawberry balsamic to go and was so happy that I did (I tore it up in a hungover frenzy the next morning). It was a winner. But my favorite was most definitely the lemon chess. It reminded me so much of my grandma’s lemon pie – silky and lemony without being too tart or too sweet. I wish I could have brought a whole pie back to the Bay with me.

prune

My last dinner in New York was at Prune. I can easily say that it was the best meal I’ve had in a long time. Prune felt like home in the sense that it reminded me of a restaurant that I would find in San Francisco or Oakland or Berkeley. It’s a very intimate space and the menu reflects the ambiance. Really thoughtful and well prepared without being overly fussy. We started off with roasted bone marrow and fried sweetbreads with bacon and capers. The sweetbreads were out of this world. And the whole grilled fish stuffed with fennel was perfect. Did I mention the leeks vinaigrette? I think they should be renamed melt-in-your-mouth leeks. There were cocktails and a bottle of Graves Blanc somewhere in between it all. We ended with warm ricotta fritters in chocolate sauce. That’s how you go out with a bang.

rosario’s

The first and last time I had Rosario’s was back in 2003, during my first visit to New York. We ended up there after a night of drinking at the bar across the street. That was a magical trip, even under the circumstances that brought us there. Rosario’s is real New York pizza. It has that thin, airy crust, crisp on the bottom, with just the right amount of sauce. It’s dream pizza. This time around, I couldn’t remember where it was so I had to call my sister to find it. Before I flew back home, I made my way to Rosario’s, had a slice of the Sophia for lunch, and ordered five slices of cheese to bring back to the folks, along with a dozen bagels from H&H, two chocolate babkas and cinnamon rugelach from Zabar’s, and cookies and crack pie from Milk Bar. That’s how I roll – with a carry-on bag full of deliciousness in tow.

Oh, New York. Until we meet again…

chocolate chip pecan banana bread

Today is National Banana Bread Day. Who would’ve thought there was such a thing? But there is. And I’m observing it.

When I was growing, up my aunts made great banana bread, so to me it’s comfort food. I love that it’s sweet but still a bit wholesome. One of my favorite afternoon snacks is a slice of homemade banana bread with a hot cup of tea. And if I were a sweets in the morning kind of girl, I’d really enjoy it for breakfast as well.

I have a tendency to let my bananas ripen past their prime, which doesn’t bother me much because those are the best bananas for making bread. Any excuse to make banana bread is fine by me. I just can’t bare to let those unidentifiable blackened bananas go to waste.

Over the years I’ve tried several different banana bread recipes, but this is the one I’ve been making over and over for the past year. It’s full of things I love, like bittersweet chocolate, toasted pecans and shredded coconut. It’s moist and light with a hint of cinnamon and vanilla. Plus, it’s like the easiest recipe ever, so there’s no reason not to get out those ripened bananas and start baking. Have yourself a very happy Banana Bread Day!

chocolate chip pecan banana bread

makes 1 9×5-inch loaf or 2 7-1/2×3-1/2-inch loaves

butter or non-stick spray for pans

1-3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1/2 cup light brown sugar

1/2 cup vegetable oil

2 eggs

1 cup mashed bananas (about 3 super ripe bananas)

1/3 cup buttermilk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 cup chopped pecans, toasted

1 cup bittersweet chocolate chips

1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut

Preheat oven to 325°F. Grease your loaf pan(s). Set aside.

In a medium size bowl, sift together flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon.

In a small bowl, combine chocolate chips, pecans, shredded coconut and 1/4 cup of the sifted flour mixture and toss until coated. This will help prevent the ingredients from sinking to the bottom of the bread. Set aside.

In the bowl of a mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, combine sugars and oil. Add the eggs, one at a time until well combined. Add the mashed bananas. Pour the vanilla into the buttermilk. Alternate adding flour and buttermilk to the banana mixture,  beginning and ending with the flour. Gently fold  in the pecans, chocolate chips and coconut.

Pour batter into prepared pan(s) 2/3 of the way full. For two small loaves, bake for 45-50 minutes or until a cake tester comes out clean. For one large loaf, bake 1 hour and 15 minutes or until cake tester inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool 20-30 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature.

gingered peach and blackberry pandowdy

I mentioned last week that I had a whole lot of peaches on my hands, so in my effort to make sure these beauties didn’t go to waste, we’re having an end the of season peach double-header. Though I was tempted to make obscene amounts of peach ice cream, I had to abandon that dream as I have limited space in my crazy freezer. And then I remembered pandowdy.

The first time I had ever heard of pandowdy was just a few years ago, when Rodney, my father, insisted that an apple cake I had made tasted just like an apple pandowdy from his childhood. Apple huh? Pan what? I was sure he was making this up until I did a Google search and found this. A pandowdy is basically a fruit pie sans bottom crust, and though my cake was not even slightly reminiscent of a one-crust pie, I was a little bit  intrigued by this silly name, which easily could have been just another Rodney’ism.

I was trying to figure out why someone would make a pandowdy rather than a good ol’ double crust pie. I guess maybe if you were being carb conscious, you might eliminate the bottom crust of a pie in the manner that one would eat a burger with only one bun (though if you were being carb conscious you probably wouldn’t be eating dessert). And then I thought about all of the work that goes into rolling out pie dough and while it’s not difficult, it can definitely be a bit time consuming. So maybe it’s a sort of lazy man’s pie, which is kind of perfect for summer if you ask me.

A few weeks ago I flagged this recipe for peach pandowdy. And then, of course, forgot all about it. Luckily, seeing all of those peaches reminded me that I had business to take care of. So I handled my business. There is something really beautiful and rustic about pandowdy, especially when baked in a cast iron skillet. Initially, I felt that the ginger in this recipe was a bit overwhelming, but after it cooled for an additional hour, it seemed less intense and I actually rather enjoyed that unexpected hint of ginger. While I really liked the peach and blackberry combo, I feel that this would be just as good with the blackberries omitted (which is what I’ll try the next time someone brings home a lifetime supply of peaches). Either way, it’s a winner. I like to think of this little number as summer in a skillet. Rodney will be thrilled.

gingered peach and blackberry pandowdy

from Rustic Fruit Desserts by Cory Schreiber and Julie Richardson

serves 8-10

1 tablespoon unsalted butter, at room temperature, for dish

1 disk all-butter pie pastry

4 peaches, pitted (2 lbs prepped)

1/2 cup granulated sugar

juice of 1 large lemon

2 tablespoons cornstarch

2 tablespoons chopped candied ginger

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt

1 dry pint (2 cups) blackberries

all-butter pie pastry

makes 2 disks

2-1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 tablespoon plus 1-1/2 teaspoons granulated sugar

3/4 teaspoon fine sea salt

1 cup cold unsalted butter

1/2 cup ice water, or more as needed

1 tablespoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

For the pie pastry:

Put the flour, sugar, and salt in a bowl, stir to combine, then put the bowl in the freezer for about 10 minutes, until super cold.

Cut the butter into 1-inch cubes, then add it to the flour mixture and toss to evenly coat. Cut the butter into the flour mixture using a pastry blender, food processor, electric mixer, or your hands, just until the mixture becomes coarse and crumbly and the butter is about the size of peas.

Stir the water and lemon juice together, then drizzle over the dry ingredients, tossing with a fork to distribute the liquid. The pastry will be shaggy but should hold together when squeezed in the palm of your hand; if not, add an additional teaspoon or two of ice water.

Dump the pastry onto a lightly floured work surface and press down on the dough, folding it over on itself a few times until it holds together. Try not to handle it too much, or it will warm up and may become over-developed. Divide the pastry into 2 equal parts and shape each piece into a disk 1 inch thick. Wrap each disk in plastic wrap and chill for 1 hour.

For the pandowdy:

Preheat the oven to 425°F. Butter a 9-inch deep-dish pie pan (skip this step if you are going to bake in a cast iron skillet).

Wash the peaches, pierce the skins all over with a fork, then slice each peach into 10 to 12 slices, depending on the size of the fruit. Put the peaches in a bowl, add the sugar and lemon juice, and toss gently until evenly coated. Set aside for 15-20 minutes to draw out some of the juices.

Strain the peach juice into a small saucepan over medium heat and cook, stirring occasionally, until reduced by half. Rub the cornstarch, candied ginger, ground ginger, and salt together in a bowl.

Roll the pie pastry out a little larger than the diameter of your pie pan. Place the pie pan upside-down atop the pastry and use it to cut the pastry to size.

Add the cornstarch mixture and reduced juice to the peaches, add the blackberries, and stir gently until evenly combined. Pour into the prepared pan and top with the pastry circle. If the crust is a bit larger than the pan, tuck it inside the pan. Place the pie on a baking sheet to collect any drips.

Bake for 50 minutes, or until the crust is golden and the fruit is bubbling. Cool for 1 hour before serving, topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream ( I liked it best after it had cooled for about 2 hours).

Storage:

This dessert should be eaten soon after it is made, but any leftovers can be covered with a tea towel and stored at room temperature until the next morning.

peach ice cream

Summer almost always arrives late in the Bay Area. This year was no exception. We finally had a few real-live summer days the last week of August; it was a record breaking 95° in San Francisco! Needless to say, it was pretty spectacular, especially considering that this summer has been a bust as far as the weather is concerned. So spectacular, that I did whatever I could to make the most of the heat (and find relief from my non-air conditioned house). I ate cold oysters on the half shell. I drank delicious beers and had what Sara and I refer to as “das burger” out on the patio of one of my favorite bars. I slept with an ice-cold water bottle in my bed which, by the way, is genius if I do say so myself. And I made ice cream.

Earlier this year I popped into Sur la Table to buy a cake pan. I came home with an ice cream maker. This is very typical of my behavior. It remained in the box for months just waiting patiently for someone to put it to use (also very typical). Meanwhile, I had been dying for an excuse to make ice cream. But it never got hot enough. And I’ve been preoccupied with other projects. So in the box it stayed. Until this little heat wave came along.

I requested a copy of David Lebovitz’ The Perfect Scoop from the library at the beginning of summer with the intention of putting my new ice cream maker to good use early in the season. I’ve recently adopted the practice of checking out cookbooks from the library before adding them to my permanent collection. I’m a bit of an impulse buyer(see above), so I think of it as a preventative measure. After weeks of waiting, the book finally arrived just as it was starting to get warm out here.

I love David Lebovitz. His blog is my favorite of all the food blogs I follow. It’s full of information about food and restaurants and Paris and Parisians (and their quirks) and sometimes the most random yet fascinating topics are addressed. I also find him hilarious. Seriously, the man is a riot and reading his posts always puts a smile on my face. I wish we were eating/drinking buddies or pen pals.

When several pounds of peaches magically appeared at my house, I took it as a sign to make peach ice cream. The combination of peaches and cream really is a no-brainer. One of my favorite summer time snacks is sliced peaches dipped in sour cream (don’t knock it till you try it). So I was pleasantly surprised to find that David’s peach ice cream calls for sour cream in addition to the usual heavy cream found in most recipes.

This ice cream is everything ice cream should be: sweet, creamy, refreshing and good to the last drop. The peach flavor was perfectly pronounced and the lemon juice and sour cream really tie it all together. I am seriously contemplating making a few more batches while peaches are still in season. But there are so many other flavors I can’t wait to try! Looks like The Perfect Scoop will be joining the permanent collection.

peach ice cream

from The Perfect Scoop by David Lebovitz

makes bout 1 quart (1 liter)

1-1/3 pounds ripe peaches (about 4 large peaches)

1/2 cup water

3/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup sour cream

1 cup heavy cream

1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract

a few drops freshly squeezed lemon juice

Peel the peaches (see below), slice them in half, and remove the pits. Cut the peaches into chunks and cook them with the water in a medium, nonreactive saucepan over medium heat, covered, stirring once or twice, until soft and cooked through, about 10 minutes.

Remove from the heat, stir in the sugar, then cool to room temperature.

Puree the cooked peaches and any liquid in a blender or food processor with the sour cream, heavy cream, vanilla, and lemon juice until almost smooth but slightly chunky.

Chill the mixture thoroughly in the refrigerator, then freeze it in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

*An easy way to peel peaches is to cut an X at the bottom and then lower them in a pot of boiling water for about 20 seconds. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the peaches to a colander and shock them with cold water, then let them cool. Afterward, the peel should slip right off.

grapefruit pudding

I live in a part of California that is blessed with extremely mild weather almost year round. So all of this rain that’s been coming down the last two months is giving me a bit of cabin fever. Instead of focusing on all the things I can do indoors, such as cooking or baking or blogging, I’ve been daydreaming about beach days and picnics and coastal drives.  I’ve been pining for Big Sur.

Big Sur is one of those places that just nestles itself into your heart. There’s something magical about being surrounded by all of that ocean and all of those trees. While I have the good fortune of living less than three hours north of Big Sur, I am now realizing that my last visit there was back in 2003. I was recently reminded of my love for Big Sur when I caught a documentary on PBS about the artist Emile Norman, who made Big Sur his home back in the 1940′s and remained there until his death in 2009.

I’ve more recently fallen in love the Big Sur Bakery Cookbook that has made its way into my hands. It is yet another reason for me to get myself back to Big Sur. The book is really an homage to the town of Big Sur and all of the artisans who have made it their home and is filled with beautiful photos and mouthwatering recipes. I love the layout of the cookbook; each chapter is designated a month of the year and lists the featured dishes like a restaurant menu. And what a coincidence it is that I was compelled to make the grapefruit pudding that is the dessert for February.

This grapefruit pudding is not your mother’s pudding. It is surprisingly light thanks to the egg whites and has that refreshing citrus quality. If custard and souffle had a baby, it would be this pudding. The top is airy and cake-like and the bottom is similar to a lemon curd. I like to think of it as having the best of two worlds in one lovely confection.

grapefruit pudding

adapted from The Big Sur Bakery Cookbook

serves 6-8

Nonstick cooking spray or vegetable oil

1/2 cup fresh squeezed ruby red grapefruit juice, strained (about 1 or 2 grapefruits)

1 cup sugar

1/3 cup all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 cup whole-milk yogurt

1/2 cup crème fraîche

grated zest of 2 grapefruits (finely chop zest if using a microplane)

4 eggs, separated

powdered sugar, for dusting

Adjust the oven rack to the middle position and preheat to 350°F. Coat a 10-inch round baking dish lightly with non-stick spray or vegetable oil. Set aside.

Combine the sugar flour and salt in a large bowl and make a well in the center. In a separate bowl, whisk together grapefruit juice, yogurt, crème fraîche, zest, and the egg yolks. Pour the grapefruit mixture into the well and whisk to combine.

In an electric mixer fitted with the wire whisk attachment, whisk egg whites until soft peaks form. Gently fold the whites into the grapefruit mixture.

Pour the mixture into the prepared baking dish and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until the top is golden and the pudding is set but still jiggles in the center, rotating once halfway through. Let cool for at least 5 minutes before serving. Dust with powdered sugar and serve warm or at room temperature.

Greetings from Big Sur circa 2003.

celery root soup

It has been unusually cold in my neck of the woods this winter, and all I want to do is lay in bed with my hot water bottle (because I’m secretly an 80 year old man) and look at cookbooks. And eat everything. All the time. I’ve been craving belly warming things, like stews and soups and hot beverages. Luckily for me, the holidays left behind a few ham bones, which made excellent split pea soup, and turkey carcasses so there have been several soup du jour at my house over the last few weeks.

Since someone has been in lazybones mode lately, a result of December being the crazy busy month that it was, I only want to make things that require little effort/minimal dish washing and soup seems to fit the bill very nicely. I’ve been really into creamy vegetable soups that don’t actually involve a whole lot of heavy cream so I decided it was time for a celery root soup, which I’d been dying to make for weeks.

This recipe immediately caught my eye because it starts off with a little fried bacon, followed by leeks sauteed in the reserved bacon fat. I am a firm believer that bacon makes everything better (I recently met a very lovely young man who was sure he won the heart of his partner with homemade bacon infused bourbon) and I’m pretty sure that that philosophy applies to this soup. The smokiness of the bacon gives it this extra bit of flavor that might be lacking otherwise, and the crispy bacon garnish adds just the right amount of texture. It’s one of those soups that you just can’t wait to go home and eat, especially on a cold day.

celery root soup with bacon

adapted from Gourmet

serves 4

3 medium leeks (3/4 lb), white and pale green parts only

3 bacon slices or 1 tablespoon butter if omitting bacon

1 tablespoon olive oil

1 1/2 lb celery root, peeled and cut into 1/2-inch pieces

3 cups water

1 3/4 cups reduced-sodium chicken or vegetable broth

1/3 cup inner celery leaves

1 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1/2 cup half-and-half

Halve leeks lengthwise, then coarsely chop. Wash leeks in a bowl of cold water, agitating them, then lift out onto paper towels and pat dry.

Cook bacon in a 4-quart heavy pot over moderate heat, turning occasionally, until crisp, 6 to 8 minutes. Transfer to paper towels.

Reserve 2 teaspoons of fat from the bacon, then add oil and cook leeks over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until softened, about 6 minutes. Add celery root and cook, stirring, 2 minutes. Add water and broth and bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, until celery root is very tender, 35 to 40 minutes.

Purée soup in batches in a blender  or food processor until smooth. Return soup to cleaned pot. If soup is too thick, thin with 1/2 to 3/4 cup water. Stir in salt, pepper, and half-and-half and cook over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until warm. Top with chopped celery leaves and coarsely crumbled bacon.