French Onion Soup

It's finally starting to feel like Fall and I've been cooking whenever I can. There's something about this weather that makes me want to spend the better part of my Sunday making soup, as I did this past weekend. I'd been craving French onion soup and this one just became my new favorite.

Nico seemed intrigued by the name—ever since our trip to Brazil, he's very curious about other countries—so the French part really pulled him in. Either that, or he was trying really hard to skip his nap. Since he promised he would have some, I let him stay up and help me stir the onions and pour in the stock. He loved the process so much that he decided then and there he was going to be a chef for Halloween. Three-year-old's can be so fickle. I put a smaller portion in a ramekin for him, complete with pieces of baguette and melted gruyere, but the little rascal didn't even take a bite. Can't say I really cared though. I was more than happy to have his bowl all to myself.

Blythe's Blueberry Muffins

Nico begs me to make blueberry muffins a lot. The obsession began after my Mom gave him the book Henry In Love, a sweet story about a cat named Henry and his crush, Chloe. At the end of the book, Henry swaps snacks with Chloe, handing over a blueberry muffin his Mom baked in exchange for a carrot. I refer to Henry a lot when trying to teach Nico to share. It doesn't usually work, especially with food, but I'll keep trying.

This recipe comes from Gwyneth Paltrow's cookbook and it's the only one I've tried so far. It's her Mom's recipe and probably a bit unhealthy for Gwyneth's standards since it includes a stick of butter and close to a cup of sugar.  Gwyneth offers a healthier version of them which I also want to try, but I need to find some spelt flour first.

Until then, it looks like these will be a staple in our house. They're quick and easy to make and I usually have all the necessary ingredients on hand, plus some ground flaxseeds which I like to add for a nutritional boost. And as much as I love my standing mixer, it's refreshing to rely on a simple wooden spoon and good old-fashioned stirring every now and then.

Blythe's Blueberry Muffins
Makes 12 muffins

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted and cooled
2 organic large eggs
1/2 cup milk
2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3/4 cup plus 1 teaspoon granulated sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon fine salt
2 1/2 cups fresh blueberries

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with papers.

Whisk the butter, eggs, and milk together in a bowl. In another bowl, whisk together the flour, the 3/4 cup of sugar, baking powder, and salt. Stir the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and fold in the blueberries. Divide among the muffins cups and sprinkle the muffins with the remaining teaspoon of sugar. Bake until a toothpick tests clean and the muffins are golden brown, 25-30 minutes. Best to eat these warm.

Ricotta Gnocchi with Contessa Sauce

Leave it to Lidia Bastianich to know just what to do with 1.5 pounds of fresh ricotta. Thanks to her, Daniel and I made Ricotta Gnocchi with Contessa Sauce on Saturday. It was at times a trying process, most likely because we had a 3-year old sous chef who's notorious for abandoning his duties to fill up containers with water or load kitchen appliances with Legos and a 10-month old who gets very feisty when he's hungry. We took turns rolling out the soft and sticky dough and cooking it was a family affair. Daniel plopped the gnocchi into the water and then I helped Nico fish them out with a skimmer while wearing Leo in the Ergo. It certainly wasn't the safest scenario and I'm sure we won't be landing a family cooking show anytime soon, but we all survived and our final product was ridiculously good.

With all that ricotta, a stick of butter, a cup of cream, a cup of Parmigiano-Reggiano, pine nuts and prosciutto, this is a decadent dish that'd be good for a big group to avoid the inevitable desire to eat multiple servings. Soft and fluffy, with a silky, soothing sauce, it makes kids and adults equally happy. In fact, it wasn't long before we were calling our gnocchi "little white pillows" and dreaming about how nice it'd be to use a bunch for a long nap.

Pasta with Roasted Cauliflower, Figs, and Mint

Debbie Koenig, the Brooklyn mom behind Words to Eat By, has a cookbook coming out in January 2012 called Parents Need to Eat Too. She needed parents with babies to test some recipes and since I haven't been cooking much and needed motivation to get back in the kitchen, I signed up. 

I decided to test the first one on Tuesday night. But after the boys were both in bed, all I wanted to do was collapse on the couch and watch a few episodes of Glee. (I recently started watching and am hooked. It's totally cheesy at times. Come to think of it, the singing and dancing can make me simultaneously smile and cringe. Oh, and I have crushes on Finn and Puck and Mr. Schuster.)

I reminded myself about the cauliflower that had been in our fridge for a while. And about the pack of pine nuts I splurged on at Union Market and needed to use up before I was able to get to the food coop and see how much less they would have cost there. I came really close to popping a frozen pizza in the oven and putting off the recipe testing for another night. Daniel encouraged me to just do it, saying the process might be therapeutic. It's not as if I'd be less tired another day.  Debbie's cookbook is devoted to sleep-deprived parents after all. Clearly, I was the ideal guinea pig.

Once I started chopping, roasting and sauteing, I actually had a lot of fun writing notes on the recipe about things I'd tweak. When I finished about an hour later, I did watch Glee, while digging into a dish I loved, its combination of sweet and savory flavors and a hint of heat so surprising. It even saved me the next day when Leo, my 10-month old tank, was ready for lunch before 12pm. I took out the portion I'd reserved for him—Debbie says to put some aside before adding red pepper flakes—cut it into small pieces and watched as he used his chubby hands to feed himself a big serving.

Pasta with Roasted Cauliflower, Figs, and Mint
From Debbie Koenig
Serves 4

1 medium head cauliflower, cored and separated into small florets
3 tablespoons olive oil, divided
Salt and pepper, to taste
3 large cloves garlic, minced
10 small dried figs, diced (I like Mission figs, but any will do)
A good handful of fresh mint, finely chopped
1 tablespoon fresh rosemary, finely chopped
2 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted
1/2 teaspoon anchovy paste
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
One box (12 to 14.5 ounces) whole grain pasta of your choice

Stage 1 (45 minutes, much of it oven time):
1. Preheat the oven to 425F. Line or grease a rimmed baking sheet and set aside.

2. Cut the cauliflower and toss in a large bowl with 1 tablespoon of the olive oil and salt and pepper to taste.  Spread on the prepared baking sheet in a single layer, and roast for 20 minutes.

3. While it’s roasting, dice the figs and put in a small bowl. Add ½ cup boiling water, cover, and set aside.

4. Mince the garlic and refrigerate in a small covered bowl. Chop the herbs. Put the mint in a small bowl and refrigerate, covered. Set the rosemary aside; you’ll be using it in a few minutes.

5. After 20 minutes, remove the pan from the oven and sprinkle with the chopped rosemary. Toss the cauliflower with the herb and return it to the oven. Roast an additional 15 minutes, then remove from the oven and cover loosely; no need to refrigerate.

Stage 2 (10 minutes; if doing in two sessions combine with Stage 3):
1. Toast the pine nuts in a dry nonstick skillet over medium heat, shaking the pan frequently, until golden brown. Watch closely; they go from brown to burned in a heartbeat. Remove from pan and set aside; no need to refrigerate.

2. Add the remaining 2 tablespoons of olive oil to the skillet. When it shimmers, add the minced garlic and cook, stirring, just until the aroma fills the kitchen, about 30 seconds. Add the anchovy paste and break it up with the back of a spoon. It will dissolve into the garlic and oil. If you’re not serving the finished dish to a youngun, stir in the red pepper flakes; if you are, reserve them to add at the end, after you’ve taken out the child’s portion.

3. Pluck the figs from the bowl (save the soaking water), add them to the skillet, and cook until the pan is dry. Add a tablespoon or two of the reserved fig water, and cook again until the pan is dry.

4. Add to the cauliflower mixture and set aside; no need to refrigerate. Hold on to the remaining fig water, separately.

Stage 3 (25 minutes):
1. Bring a large pot of salted water to boil and cook the pasta according to package directions.

2. Once the pasta goes into the water, put the cauliflower and figs in a skillet large enough to eventually hold the pasta, too. Add most of the mint (reserve about 1 tablespoon) and cook over low-medium heat. Add a splash of the reserved fig water if it looks dry. Turn off the heat if the pasta’s not ready yet—this shouldn’t look super-saucy, but you don’t want it to be dry, either.

3. Before draining the pasta, reserve ½ cup of the cooking water. When the pasta is cooked to your liking, drain (it’s ok if it’s still fairly wet) and toss it into the skillet over low heat.

4. Stir everything together, adding more of the fig water and/or pasta cooking water until a light sauce forms. If you’ve held off on the red pepper flakes, remove baby’s portion and stir them in now.

5. Serve with the toasted pine nuts and reserved mint sprinkled over each bowl.

MAKE BABY FOOD:
Leave out the red pepper flakes until you remove baby’s portion. If you’re on purees, you’ve got choices: Reserve some of the cauliflower and puree it separately with some of the plumped-up figs and a splash of the fig water, or puree the entire dish. For finger foods, the entire dish can be safely served to a baby—just chop the pine nuts to avoid a choking hazard.

A play date and sweet potatoes

I recently took Nico to see a show I was covering for Mommy Poppins. When I told him it was called Potato Needs a Bath, he said: "I'm going to jump out of my chair and eat that sweet potato!" Then he let out a devilish laugh. I guess his statement shouldn't have surprised me. Nico could live on sweet potatoes if he had to. I try to roast a bunch every week to have on hand for snacks or a side dish. I cut a bunch into cubes, scatter them on a sheet pan, drizzle with olive oil, some salt and pepper and then roast at 400 degrees for about 30 minutes or until tender, stirring once before they're ready. To give them a golden, crunchy coating, I keep the skins on.

When it came time to see the play, Nico left the main character alone. He actually sat still throughout the entire show, in awe of Scottish puppeteer Shona Reppe and her colorful cast of fruits and vegetables. Even I got a real kick out of the clever set and script and of course loved how fruits and vegetables played starring roles. Read my full review on Mommy Poppins and find out about other NYC theaters that produce plays specifically for preschoolers.

Photo credit: Douglas McBride

Making up for lost time

For most of my life, I've given oatmeal the cold shoulder. Called it names like gummy, mushy, and even gross. I tried some once or twice as a kid, back when I thought Fruit Rollups were the best food on the planet and couldn't stand it. I preferred oatmeal cookies, preferably with chocolate chips, or golden brown granola, with crunchy, toasted oats.

But about a month ago, I decided to give oatmeal another chance. I needed new things to feed Nico since he was requesting peanut butter and jelly sandwiches around the clock. My friend Whitney suggested oatmeal, telling me how much she and her son Liam love it. Nico, my name-changing child, often insists we call him Liam. When he does, he refers to me as Whitney, Leo becomes Liam's baby sister June, and Daniel is Justin, Liam's dad. So, when I served a bowl of warm oatmeal dotted with dates and apples one morning and went on and on about how it was Liam's breakfast of choice, Nico dug right in and dramatically praised each bite. When I tried some, I finally saw what all the fuss is about.

I referred to this recipe from the kitchn. I liked the idea of sizzling some apples and letting them release their juices. Now I seem to have some every day and think it's a good breakfast, lunch, or snack, especially when you've sworn off sweets for 40 days and need something to fill the void. Thick rolled oats probably caused my sudden change of heart and using milk in place of water. I like mine a little soupy and since I can't add sugar to anything for a few more weeks, I've been playing around with all sorts of mix-ins (prunes! blueberries! pears! bananas!). They act as natural sweeteners, but I know I'll be ready to break out the maple syrup and brown sugar soon.  

Little Piglet Links

It's been a busy few weeks. I haven't cooked much aside from some butternut squash soup and a simple bolognese sauce. At night, Daniel and I throw together big salads for ourselves or make really basic meals. We've been drinking a lot of smoothies. Our apartment search is taking up the little free time we have and I'm ready for it to be over. I want to know where we'll be living in a few months, especially now that someone else will own our apartment very soon. So, I don't have many stories to share right now. What I do have are some links. Recipes I keep meaning to make, a restaurant I want to try, and other random things. Hope everyone is enjoying the first few days of spring. It's amazing how uplifting some sunny weather can be. Oh, and how about that full moon on Saturday night? I was at my Mom's apartment for a girls-only get together with her, my aunts, two cousins and some friends who feel like family. She served her award-winning lasagna. There were eight of us. A group of wise women who have all had their fair share of struggles. They remind me to not sweat the small stuff.

Some links:

Remember how I said I didn't want to throw Nico a birthday party this year? Well, after discovering this adorable cake studio on Columbia Street this weekend, I'm starting to reconsider. After showing him some of the cook cakes on their website, he requested a vanilla one with chocolate frosting with a G train, digger, fire truck and snow plow on top.

Speaking of Nico, he's been rejecting most vegetables lately. But when I made him this kale, spinach and pear smoothie that was the same color of his beloved G train, he gulped the whole thing down and begged for more. Leo loved it, too. 

When I have more time to cook again some day, I want to make these homemade bagels and fresh cream butter.

If Daniel and I could plan our wedding day all over again, I'd love to do something like this. Riding bikes with some of our closest friends all over NYC would be so much fun.

I love how Aron and Ashley, the couple behind the blog Hither and Thither, take a photo each year while holding up how many fingers they've been married, a tradition they adopted from Aron's parents.

I've only been to Seattle once and wish Delancey, the pizza place opened by one of the best food bloggers and her husband, had been around back then. Molly recently wrote about their newest venture, The Pantry at Delancey, and now I'm dreaming about taking a quick trip to check both places out.

Blood Orange Olive Oil Cake

Sometimes, I want to race to the finish when baking. I look forward to the final product and wish I could skip some steps to get there. Take this blood orange olive oil cake, for example. It's a recipe from Melissa Clark that I made for the first time a few years ago. I loved it then, but one step made me wait a while before making it again. I don't like to supreme oranges. Not one bit.

I should have watched a YouTube video on segmenting citrus before trying it again last week, remembering how I'd struggled the first time. Instead, I did a really sloppy job and cursed my beautiful little blood oranges and their pesky piths while I worked and wondered why Melissa Clark made it sound so easy. In fact, I came close to hurling a few of them out of frustration, but I held back. I wasn't in the mood to scrub the walls or give Nico any ideas.

Since blood oranges are in season right now and nothing beats a cake that's flecked with ruby-colored citrus, I think you should try this recipe. Luckily, once you supreme the oranges, it's smooth sailing. Here are some things I need to remember for next time, and maybe they'll help you out, too.

1. Either figure out how to supreme an orange before you start, or recruit a good sous chef who will do this step for you.
2. If you have a baby and he or she starts fussing while you're in the middle of baking this cake, do not put them in an Ergo or other baby carrier and keep going. Take it from me. Blood oranges and a squirmy baby are not a good combination.
3. This cake is best made first thing in the morning so you can eat it for breakfast and throughout the day. If you start too late, say around 5pm, you run the risk of having little ones in the bath when the buzzer goes off and by the time you can take the cake out, you'll be left with a loaf that's not burnt, but a bit too brown on the bottom.
4. Once it's ready, don't even try to cut yourself a skinny slice. You'll just be back for seconds and probably thirds after that. Go all out and hack off a big hunk. Put some whipped cream on top, too.
5. If you blog about food, snap a picture soon after your cake comes out of the oven and looks like this, not a few days later when you're about to eat the last three slices all by yourself. 
  
Blood Orange Olive Oil Cake
From Melissa Clark via The New York Times
Time 1 hour 20 minutes plus cooling

Butter for greasing pan
3 blood oranges
1 cup sugar
Buttermilk or plain yogurt
3 large eggs
1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/4 teaspoon salt
2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
Honey-blood orange compote, for serving, optional (see note)
Whipped cream, for serving, optional.

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9-by-5-inch loaf pan. Grate zest from 2 oranges and place in a bowl with sugar. Using your fingers, rub ingredients together until orange zest is evenly distributed in sugar.
2. Supreme an orange: Cut off bottom and top so fruit is exposed and orange can stand upright on a cutting board. Cut away peel and pith, following curve of fruit with your knife. Cut orange segments out of their connective membranes and let them fall into a bowl. Repeat with another orange. Break up segments with your fingers to about 1/4-inch pieces.
3. Halve remaining orange and squeeze juice into a measuring cup. You will have about 1/4 cup or so. Add buttermilk or yogurt to juice until you have 2/3 cup liquid altogether. Pour mixture into bowl with sugar and whisk well. Whisk in eggs.
4. In another bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt. Gently whisk dry ingredients into wet ones. Switch to a spatula and fold in oil a little at a time. Fold in pieces of orange segments. Scrape batter into pan and smooth top.
5. Bake cake for about 55 minutes, or until it is golden and a knife inserted into center comes out clean. Cool on a rack for 5 minutes, then unmold and cool to room temperature right-side up. Serve with whipped cream and honey-blood orange compote, if desired.

Yield: 8 to 10 servings.

Note: To make a honey-blood orange compote, supreme 3 more blood oranges according to directions in Step 2. Drizzle in 1 to 2 teaspoons honey. Let sit for 5 minutes, then stir gently.

Butcher's Ragù with Fusilli

After Eataly opened, Food & Wine ran an article with recipes from the Italian emporium. They all enticed me, but the Butcher's Ragù with Fusilli from the pasta and pizza counter really stood out. Even though it was still summer and the warm weather begged for salad and fruit, I liked the sound of its luscious sauce. It was one of the first real meals I cooked after having Leo. Most days back then were kind of bumpy, but on the night I tried it, life with two children felt unusually smooth. The recipe was easy to follow and called for tomato paste in place of canned tomatoes and a cup of white wine instead of red.

Daniel and I expected the recipe to be good, but it was even better than that. I mean, we took some really dramatic bites, savored the velvety sauce that he thinks tastes faintly sweet, and oohed and ahhed a lot. Looking back, I wonder if our amazement had something to do with how tired and overwhelmed we were. In those early months as a family of four, cooking anything felt like an accomplishment. Making a meal this memorable was a major triumph.

We made it for the third time last night and weren't surprised that a sauce so rich and chunky goes well with winter. Packed with pancetta, baked ham and ground beef, it's a stick to your ribs kind of dish. The kind of sauce you want simmering on your stove when the streets outside have turned to ice and you and your kids are battling colds.

Make sure to use fusilli as Mario instructs. We tried it with spaghetti once and realized it needs a shape it can really grab onto and cover with a rich, glossy coating. I think it tastes best right after it's made, piping hot with a messy pile of pecorino. I love leftovers, but this doesn't reheat too well. You're better off just eating it straight from the refrigerator, cold. And one more piece of advice. I don't watch football, but if I did, this is what I'd serve on Superbowl Sunday.

Butcher's Ragù with Fusilli
From Mario Batali via Food & Wine
Serves 8
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon extra-virgin olive oil
1 medium carrot, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 medium celery rib, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 medium onion, finely diced
1 garlic clove, thinly sliced
4 ounces thickly sliced pancetta, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 pound ground beef
1/4 cup tomato paste
1/2 pound thickly sliced baked ham, cut into 1/4-inch dice
1 cup milk
1 cup dry white wine
1 cup water
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
1 1/2 pounds fusilli
Freshly grated pecorino, for serving

1. In a large enameled cast-iron casserole, heat the olive oil. Add the carrot, celery, onion and garlic and cook over moderate heat, stirring occasionally, until softened but not browned, about 10 minutes. Add the pancetta and ground beef and cook, breaking up the meat with a wooden spoon, until no longer pink, about 8 minutes. Add the tomato paste and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, until shiny and rust-colored, about 10 minutes.

2. Add the diced ham, milk, white wine and water to the casserole and simmer the ragù over moderately low heat, stirring occasionally, until it is thick and saucy, about 1 hour and 15 minutes. Season the ragù with salt and pepper.

3. In a large pot of boiling salted water, cook the fusilli, stirring often, until al dente. Drain the fusilli and add it to the sauce. Stir well to coat the pasta. Transfer the pasta to shallow bowls and serve right away, passing grated pecorino at the table.

Roasted Butternut Squash Soup from Frankies Spuntino

I bought The Frankies Spuntino Kitchen Companion & Cooking Manual in December and have been reading chapters here and there ever since. Laid-back, but straight-forward, it's fun and full of stories about the two guys from Brooklyn behind some of my favorite restaurants. Only this weekend did I realize it looks more like a bible than a cookbook. Based on the title, I'm sure this was intentional, and after making my first recipe, I'll be referring to it regularly.

I've been looking for a really good butternut squash soup for a while. Thanks to the Franks, I've finally found one and it's easier than ever. Others I've tried call for coconut milk or chicken stock and all sorts of other ingredients. With sweet potato, white pepper, Chinese five-spice powder and water, their recipe reminded me that with cooking, and most things actually, more is less.

I had an enormous butternut squash that took longer to roast than I expected, so I made a big salad to hold me over. By the time it was tender enough to blend, I was starving. I snapped a picture of the squash and sweet potatoes when they came out of the oven, but never got around to documenting the final product. Pureed soup isn't the most photogenic anyway, but looks aside, it was silky smooth and one of the best I've made. The recipe calls for a teaspoon of honey, but it was sweet enough on its own that I barely needed any. I loved it as a light dinner with a piece of buttered spelt toast. It was comforting with a little kick. Healthy, too, which made me appreciate it even more when I came down with a cold the next day.

Roasted Butternut Squash Soup
From The Frankies Spuntino Kitchen Companion & Cooking Manual

Serves 4 to 6

1 butternut squash (2 to 2 1/2 pounds), halved and seeded
1/2 sweet potato
A couple splashes of olive oil
Fine sea salt
Freshly ground white pepper
1/2 teaspoon Chinese five-spice powder, or more to taste
1 cup water
1 teaspoon honey, or more to taste

1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees F. Coat the squash and sweet potato with a light slick of olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

2. Arrange the squash cut side up on a baking sheet, stick the half potato on there with it, and roast for 1 hour, or until both are very tender. Let cool slightly.

3. When the vegetables are cool enough to handle, scoop the flesh from the skin and combine in a blender. Add a large pinch of salt, the pepper, the five-spice powder, water, and honey and blend until smooth. Taste and add more honey if you want it sweeter or a tiny pinch more of five-spice powder to round out the flavor.

4. Pour the soup into a pot and reheat, then ladle into bowls, nice and hot.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Squares, Take Two

After a pumpkin smoothie experiment failed miserably the other day, I put some leftover pumpkin puree to better use. I made Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Squares, a recipe from Everyday Food that I mentioned here a few years ago. Back then, I managed to sneak in baking sessions during naptime, something I don't think I'll figure out again for a while. This time, I made them at night, an hour before Nico went to bed. He hadn't even eaten dinner yet, so it really wasn't the best timing. Daniel convinced him to have a few bites of chicken and some sweet potatoes before he housed one, fresh from the oven.

I used less sugar again and bittersweet chocolate chips instead of semisweet. I didn't realize we were out of eggs until I needed one. I searched online for substitutions and one site suggested mashed banana. I was skeptical, but it worked surprisingly well and made them even better. 

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Squares
Adapted from Everyday Food

Makes 24

2 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled)
1 tablespoon pumpkin-pie spice
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 cup sugar
1/2 large banana, mashed
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup canned pumpkin puree
3/4 package (about 9 ounces) bittersweet chocolate chips

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line bottom and sides of a 9-by-13-inch baking pan with foil, leaving an overhang on all sides. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, pie spice, baking soda, and salt; set aside.
2. With an electric mixer, cream butter and sugar on medium-high speed until smooth; beat in banana and vanilla until combined. Beat in pumpkin puree (mixture may appear curdled). Reduce speed to low, and mix in dry ingredients until just combined. Fold in chocolate chips.
3. Spread batter evenly in prepared pan. Bake until edges begin to pull away from sides of pan and a toothpick inserted in center comes out with just a few moist crumbs attached, 35 to 40 minutes. Cool completely in pan.
4. Lift cake from pan (using foil as an aid). Peel off foil, and use a serrated knife to cut into 24 squares.

See this post and many other treats on Sweet as Sugar Cookies

Whiskey-Soaked Dark Chocolate Cupcakes

 

For my friend Mona's engagement party Saturday night, I volunteered to bring dessert. I thought about trying a new recipe, but came up with a better idea: I'd transform one of my favorite cakes from Melissa Clark into a boozy batch of cupcakes. This was a celebration after all, not a formal sit-down dinner. And I've been to plenty of parties where people prefer cocktails to sweets. I always need dessert and was determined to make something that would fit in. 

As I suspected, dark chocolate cupcakes with a cup of whiskey, plus a little extra brushed on top for good measure, were perfect for a Saturday night engagement celebration turned dance party. All 24 were quickly snatched up and devoured after we feasted on two types of fondue, lasagna, pork tenderloin, braised cabbage and a salad with pomegranate seeds.

Before making them, I searched online to see what kind of guidance I could find. Even though I've made the recipe as a bundt cake countless times, baking needs to be so precise. I found this site where a chef recommended adding an extra 1/2 cup of flour to give the cupcakes "structural assistance" which sounded good to me. I also cooked them for a lot less time. After about 28 minutes in my oven, they were perfect—light and moist with a sophisticated dark chocolate flavor that's rich, but not too sweet, with a welcome burst of whiskey.

I considered sprinkling powdered sugar on top too, but Daniel made a glossy ganache using bittersweet chocolate, cream and some butter to help dress them up a bit.  After that, he made white icing so we could write Mona and her fiance Jawad's initials on top. Time was running out by this point and we ended up writing on the cupcakes before they had fully cooled. They looked kind of sloppy at first, and reminded me of the bubble letters I used to favor back in middle school. I met Mona in 6th grade, so I could have said that was the look I was going for. Or maybe that Nico helped decorate them? Sadly, he didn't. This handiwork was all our own. Slowly, they took on a life of their own, and by the time we brought them to the party, they looked kind of cute. Mona and Jawad knew they'd been made with love and no one paid too much attention to the letters. The words dark chocolate and whiskey were way too distracting. 

Whiskey-Soaked Dark Chocolate Cupcakes with Chocolate Ganache Glaze

Adapted from Melissa Clark via The New York Times

For the cupcakes:
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
5 ounces unsweetened chocolate
1/4 cup instant espresso powder
2 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1 cup whiskey, more for sprinkling
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
2 cups granulated sugar
3 large eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon baking soda

For the chocolate ganache via Heather Drive:
1/4 cup heavy cream
4 ounces bittersweet chocolate, finely chopped
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened

1. Preheat oven to 325 degrees and line two cupcake pans with liners. In microwave oven or double boiler over simmering water, melt chocolate. Let cool.

2. Put espresso and cocoa powders in a 2-cup (or larger) glass measuring cup. Add enough boiling water to come up to the 1 cup measuring line. Mix until powders dissolve. Add whiskey and salt; let cool.

3. Using an electric mixer, beat 1 cup butter until fluffy. Add sugar and beat until well combined. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, beating well between each addition. Beat in the vanilla extract, baking soda and melted chocolate, scraping down sides of bowl with a rubber spatula.

4. On low speed, beat in a third of the whiskey mixture. When liquid is absorbed, beat in 1 cup flour. Repeat additions, ending with whiskey mixture. Divide batter evenly among liners, filling about 3/4 full. Bake about 25-28 minutes or until a cake tester inserted into center comes out clean.

5. Transfer cupcakes to a rack and using a pastry brush, brush each one with more whiskey.

6. While the cupcakes are cooling, heat cream in a small saucepan over medium heat until steaming, stirring constantly. Remove from the heat, add the chocolate and let stand for 5 minutes. Add the butter and stir until smooth.

7. Transfer to a small bowl and once they've cooled, dip the top of each cupcake to thoroughly coat.

8. Allow chocolate ganache to set before serving and storing.

Yellow Cauliflower, Purple Potato and Emmentaler Gratin

Sometimes, a sleepless night can have a silver lining.

This was mine the other day after a long night with Leo. Cooking has a way of helping me get through the day when all I want to do is climb back into bed.

Except this time around, I did climb back in. Daniel started cooking. He made pork tenderloin with leeks, a pot of brown rice, and this simple cauliflower gratin with salt, pepper, some cream and grated Emmentaler on top. When I woke up, I added the purple potatoes, tucking them into any little pocket I could find, loving the deep, dark color they added to an already pretty dish.

After about 30 minutes in the oven at 400 degrees, it was golden and bubbly with a crispy, melty crust. We were too hungry and happy to have such a wonderfully warm and comforting meal that we dug in and forgot to take more photos. We even forgot how tired we were, for a little while at least. It was that good.

Grandma's Crumb Cake with Cranberries and Oats

On Sunday, I found an old bag of cranberries buried in my fridge. My high hopes for holiday baking hadn't exactly panned out. Some day I'll make this Cranberry Orange Cornmeal Cake, a recipe I've had bookmarked since 2008. I should have just thrown the whole bag out. I was supposed to be packing snacks for a trip to my cousin's in Connecticut when I found it. Instead, I emptied the cranberries on my kitchen counter and started making a pile of the sad, wrinkly ones. I put those little guys in the garbage and kept the rest.

Inspired by a cranberry buckle from Bklyn Larder that I had on Thanksgiving, I decided to make Grandma's Crumb Cake, an old favorite. Since I was already changing the recipe by adding cranberries, I decided to keep going. I substituted white whole wheat flour, which I only recently discovered after making these cookies for the second time, and for the crumb topping, I used light brown sugar and added oats. I also baked it in a smaller pan to ensure each slice was thick.

By the time the cake was ready, we were rushing to get out the door. I had planned on bringing it to Connecticut, but my hands quickly filled up with birthday presents, a diaper bag, gloves, scarves, hats and other stuff. I knew better than to try and balance a hot cake, too.  Sadly, Grandma's Crumb Cake with Cranberries and Oats would have to wait.

It wasn't until 10pm that I finally had a slice. The cranberries added tart bursts of flavor to each sweet bite, but the white whole wheat flour fell flat. It had made the batter too tough and the cake came out dry. The crumb topping however, was perfect. Each piece was fat and crackly with a golden flavor and the oats made it feel hearty, and slightly healthy. The recipe says to sprinkle the cake with powdered sugar, but since I was rushing by the time it was ready, I skipped this step. The cake was sweet enough and I didn't miss it.

A pint of blueberries has been hanging out in the fridge for the last few days. As long as they don't end up in a smoothie, or a snack trap, I'll be making Grandma's Crumb Cake the old way again soon, with a new twist or two.

Grandma’s Crumb Cake with Cranberries and Oats

Cake ingredients:
¾ cup of sugar
¼ cup butter, softened
1 egg
½ cup milk
2 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup fresh cranberries, washed and drained

Crumb topping ingredients:
1 cup light brown sugar
2/3 cup flour
1/2 cup oats
½ cup butter
1 teaspoon cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Cream the sugar and butter together. Add the egg and milk and mix well. Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Add to the sugar mixture. Fold in the cranberries. The mixture will be thick.

To make the topping, thoroughly combine the five ingredients, using your hands to help form big, round crumbs.

Spread the batter in an 8”x 8” x 5” baking pan. Sprinkle on the topping mixture and bake for 35-45 minutes.

Mango Chutney, Prosciutto and Paneer Pizza

Lately, while reading other food blogs, I find myself wondering: How on earth do all these people take such perfect photos of everything they make?

In my world, cooking tends to go like this. I start a recipe. Almost instantly, Nico decides it's time for us to play hide and seek. I play along because it keeps him occupied while I attempt to make a decent meal and our apartment is small enough where I can quickly leave a sauce simmering to go and find him (which isn't hard since he always lets out a devilish laugh whenever I come anywhere close to where he's hiding). Around the same time, Leo usually has a meltdown. The happiest baby as long as we're on the go, he's my 6-month old wannabe toddler who seems offended when I try to contain him in an exersaucer, bouncy chair or other baby-friendly device. Before you know it, Daniel needs to swoop in and take over. And play photographer, too.

That was the case the last time we made this pizza. He actually took a bunch of photos, but it was nighttime and there wasn't good, natural light. Not to mention that by the time this was ready, both of our children were finally in bed and we just wanted to eat.

So, I'm sorry the photo isn't better. But take my word for it. This pizza rules. I recently wrote about it for my blog on iVillage and you can get the full story and recipe there. We've been making it about once a week and if the Park Slope food coop hadn't stopped carrying paneer and I had mango chutney and prosciutto on hand all the time, I'd make it way more than that.

It's quick and easy, but feels kind of exotic. Growing up, I went through a pineapple pizza phase. With mango chutney and prosciutto, this is similar, but more sophisticated. Try it yourself and you'll see. And don't worry about taking photographs. Just eat.

Wine-Stewed Prunes with Mascarpone

I first tried these a few years ago at Frankies 457, a Brooklyn restaurant I used to visit a lot. I finally made them myself last night. Just as I remembered, they're incredible. 

This recipe elevates the prune, a dried fruit I love -- that so often gets a bad rap -- to new levels. Completely no-fuss, it combines a pound of them with dry red wine, sugar and cinnamon sticks. After simmering for about an hour on the stove, the prunes start nestling together in a striking plum colored syrup that I wanted to lick from the spoon. Wine-soaked prunes would also make a lovely nail color, I have to say. Or maybe wine-soaked dried plums sounds better?

They couldn't be easier to whip up, either for a dinner party or a late-night dessert. For the wine, I used a Malbec which worked well. The original recipe said to use 1 1/4 cups sugar. That seemed like a lot, so I used 1 cup and still thought they were a bit too sweet. Next time, I'd use even less.

Rich with a deep, jammy flavor, they also feel kind of festive and would be a nice end to a holiday meal. They were perfect last night with a few spoonfuls of mascarpone. Later, I'll see how they taste cold on top of some plain yogurt.

Wine-Stewed Prunes with Mascarpone
Adapted from Frank Castronovo and Frank Falcinelli via The New York Times 
Serves 6

1 pound pitted prunes (about 40)
1 cup sugar
2 cinnamon sticks
2½ cups dry red wine
2  8-ounce containers mascarpone

1. Combine prunes, sugar, cinnamon and wine in a pot over medium-high heat. When mixture boils, reduce to simmer and cook 45 minutes, until liquid has turned to syrup.
2. Remove from heat, and rest at least 15 minutes. Spread a mound of mascarpone on each serving plate, top with 6 prunes and drizzle with syrup. Serve immediately.

Whole wheat chocolate chip cookies

With two kids, there are some days when it's impossible to leave home. In my case, one child usually decides to take a long nap and by the time he wakes up, the other one is tired. It's nice to get some one-on-one time with each of them, but when I'm in pajamas all day and somehow can't find a second to sit down, it's easy to go a little stir crazy.

To feel productive, and keep Nico busy, I usually pull out a cookbook and we find something to make.

Before becoming a Mom, the thought of cooking with kids didn't make much sense to me. I imagined the whole process being slow, messy and not a lot of fun. I had no idea how malleable motherhood would make me.

Cooking with Nico is one of my favorite things. As I suspected, it can get very messy and the final product isn't always the prettiest, but I love watching my child learn to cook. Whenever I ask him if he feels like baking, he usually rattles off a bunch of things he'd like to make. Chocolate chip cookies always top the list.

I read about these Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies from Kim Boyce's cookbook Good to the Grain on Orangette, so when we found ourselves stuck at home the other day while Leo took a very long morning nap, I knew it was time to finally make them.

Thanks to three cups of whole wheat flour, their flavor is more complex than a traditional chocolate chip cookie, but with a lot of butter and sugar, they are by no means healthy. I usually inhale regular chocolate chip cookies. I ate a few of these in one sitting, but their wonderfully chewy texture made me eat slowly and really appreciate them.

My only complaints were that they tasted slightly salty (maybe because I used regular salt instead of kosher?) and had too much sugar. I'd like to make them again, but will use less of both, and a really dark chocolate and see if that helps balance things at all.

Nico loved them (although I have yet to see a cookie he didn't like). When it was time for his nap, (right around the time Leo woke up, of course), he gave me the biggest smile and said: "We made some really awesome cookies!"

Whole Wheat Chocolate Chip Cookies

3 cups whole wheat flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 1/2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 sticks cold butter, cut into small pieces
1 cup dark brown sugar
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
8 ounces bittersweet chocolate, chopped into bits

Position racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven, and preheat to 350°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment. (If you have no parchment, you can butter the sheets.)

Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl, and whisk to blend.

Put the butter and sugars in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. With the mixer on low speed, mix just until the butter and sugars are blended, about 2 minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula. Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in the vanilla. Add the flour mixture to the bowl, and blend on low speed until the flour is just incorporated. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl. Add the chocolate, and mix on low speed until evenly combined. (If you have no stand mixer, you can do all of this with handheld electric beaters and/or a large, sturdy spoon.) Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl, and then use your hands to turn and gently massage the dough, making sure all the flour is absorbed.

Scoop mounds of dough about 3 tablespoons in size onto the baking sheets, leaving about 3 inches between each cookie. (I made mounds about 1 tablespoon in size which explains why my cookies are on the thin side. I have a hard time controlling myself when it comes to cookies and wanted to keep them small.)

Bake the cookies for 16 to 20 minutes, rotating the sheets halfway through, until the cookies are evenly browned. Transfer the cookies, still on parchment, to a rack to cool. Repeat with remaining dough.

Yield: about 20 cookies




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Molly Wizenberg's Cider-Glazed Salmon

I started this post over a year ago. Right around the time I stopped blogging altogether. It features a recipe from one of my favorite food bloggers, Molly Wizenberg of Orangette.

Orangette was one of the first food blogs I discovered. It's still a favorite. Molly had been blogging for a few years by the time I discovered her. I spent the first few weeks catching up. Her writing felt familiar, as if she was someone I knew well. I wished, and still do, that I could write like her. Like many of her readers, I was swept away by the love story that unfolds on her blog. The short version? A fellow food lover from New York found her while searching for a lemon cake recipe online. He's now her husband and they run a restaurant in Seattle. Dig through her archives to find out more. It's a foodie love story fit for a movie.

Last year, Molly published A Homemade Life, her first book. It's a collection of touching stories and food, of course, sneaks its way naturally into every one. I was sad when I finished, but because each story ends with a recipe, I get to revisit it often. I think I dog-eared almost every one.

I missed Molly while she was in New York promoting the book last year, but finally met her a few weeks ago while she was here for the paperback release. We spoke for just a few seconds, but I was surprised, and honored, that she recognized me from my own blog. It was so nice to see her in person, hear her speak and see that she's just as I imagined. Warm and friendly, soft-spoken yet witty and sarcastic. Very articulate.

At first, Molly's life sounds perfect. But the more you read about her, the more real she becomes. She's been through a lot and is clearly wise beyond her years. A true old soul. I'd already been planning to start writing again, but hearing her talk about the book and how she became a food writer made me even more motivated.

I've made dozens of Molly's recipes over the years and they always seem to turn out perfectly. This cider-glazed salmon was no exception. It might be one of my most favorite yet, along with this granola, this salad, and this butternut squash puree that I wrote about back in 2006.

But, back to the salmon. It's poached in fresh apple cider and reduced with cream till you're left with a sweet, delicious caramel-colored sauce that you'll want to slurp straight from the pan. It'd be a great dinner party dish or the perfect meal for two.

Now that Molly's book is in paperback, I thought it'd be a good time to finally publish this post. I might have made her salmon recipe over a year ago, but I still remember it perfectly. Give it a try and pick up A Homemade Life as soon as you have a chance. You won't be disappointed.

Cider-Glazed Salmon
Serves 4

For this recipe, you'll need a large 12-inch skillet with a lid. The pan should be large enough to hold the salmon without crowding and to provide plenty of surface area for boiling down and thickening the sauce.

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
1 medium shallot, peeled and halved lengthwise
2 cups fresh unfiltered apple cider
4 (6-ounce) salmon fillets
Salt
1/2 cup heavy cream

In a large, heavy skillet, combine the butter, shallot, and cider. Place over medium-high heat, and bring to a simmer. Simmer for 5 minutes, then remove and discard the shallot.

Place the fillets gently in the pan, adjusting the heat so that the liquid just trembles. Spoon a bit of the liquid over them, so that their tops begin to cook. Cover and simmer very gently. The fillets will cook for 8 to 10 minutes per inch of thickness. To test for doneness, make a small slit with a paring knife in the thickest part of the fillet: all but the very center of each piece should be opaque. (It will keep cooking after you pull it from the heat). Transfer the cooked salmon to a platter, and cover loosely with aluminum foil to keep warm.

To prepare the glaze, raise the heat under the pan to medium-high, add a pinch of salt, and simmer, stirring frequently, until the liquid is reduced by about two-thirds. It should be slightly thickened and should just cover the bottom of the pan. Reduce the heat to medium, and add the cream. Stir well to combine. Return the heat to medium-high and boil, stirring frequently, for a few minutes, until the mixture darkens to a pale golden caramel--like those Brach's Milk Maid caramel candies, if that helps--and is reduced by one-third to one-half.

Place the salmon fillets on 4 plates and top each with a spoonful of sauce. It should coat them like a thin, loose glaze. Serve immediately.

Note: If you'd like to make this for only 2 people, halve the amount of salmon, but not the sauce quantities.

Guest post: Daniel's Coq au Vin

Cock-a-doodle-doo!!!

Apparently there are a few of us out there: chefs at heart who have, for what seems like ever, dreamt of one day making - or eating - a Coq au Vin. My recollections of this fantasy begin sometime in my early teens, overhearing my parents and their grown-up friends discuss en passant that a true Coq au Vin exists no more; after all, the mother - or father- of all ingredients, i.e. the Coq (rooster), has disappeared from our modern markets. And so this traditional recipe of no particular exclusiveness became a Holy Grail. At least for me.

I envision the dish being created somewhat like this: Rooster Jacques is past his prime. He still walks tall, chest plumped out, waking his masters at 3 am, and courting the chicks in his dominion. But his apparatus, the inseminator of so many oh-so-delicious young birds, is lacking in luster. And so Mother Genevieve decides it is time for vieil Jacques to serve his last purpose. Jacques has been roaming the coop for a few years now. His muscles tough and aged. Your regular fricassee won't tenderize those roughed up legs who fought so many battles against dogs, children and rivals. With plenty of Burgundy in the cellar, Genevieve submerges Jacques in good wine and decides to cook the coq for a while...

Jump to 2008 and old roosters are nowhere to be found. Partly for fun, partly to quench a certain curiosity and partly due to pure naïveté, I called our local meat market and inquired about ordering a rooster. In disbelief as to what kind of idiot, lunatic or prankster was on the other line, the Brooklyn accent yelled across the room "This guy wants a roosta! Yeah! A ROOSTA. He wants a roosta." I found out the best they could do was a Capon, a young castrated male chicken. They are usually a few weeks older than their female counterparts, whom we commonly find in every supermarket. The market said they needed a week to get me an eunuch rooster, so I gave up on that goal.

All of this is to say that I failed in my quest for the Holy Grail. Maybe one day I will find my Jacques. In the meantime, we had a fantastic meal this Saturday. I got two so-called Black Feathered Chickens from Bo Bo farms, in upstate NY (love the homepage that shows a chicken with "head included"). The description on the package said they were a bit more mature than the other birds around. So, I went with the ladies, instead of the chicks.

I thoroughly examined over six recipes. To compensate for the short cooking time, some recipes ask you to marinate the chicken overnight (e.g.. Alton Brown and Epicurious). I found one that claims to be for a person who actually has a rooster to cook. Saveur has a recipe that I almost chose as the winner, but the cocoa threw me off. I am sure it is delicious, but I wanted a classic and not a classic with chocolate. Supported by a great post I read on ...an endless banquet, I came back to my original inspiration: fail-proof Julia Child. Her recipe assumes you are using a regular supermarket chicken, with about 3 lbs of meat. Since my birds were about 4.5 lbs each -- including feet, leftover feathers and more fat than I have ever seen on a chicken -- I simply doubled the recipe.

In an attempt to leave my black-feathered friends swimming in Pinot a while longer than the recipe asked for, I cooked it a day ahead and did not reduce the sauce at first. I just let it cool after cooking for thirty minutes and put the whole Dutch-oven in the fridge.

The next day I took the hardened fat off the top (and saved it), removed the chicken parts and continued to follow Julia's instructions to reduce the sauce. I used part of the reserved fat to brown the potatoes, mushrooms and onions. I also used all giblets, feet, necks, and bones to make a chicken stock that I used in a soup last night.

I think I speak for those at the table when I say the meal was truly excellent. I am still daydreaming about the taste of the sauce. If I could I would have swam in it. Simple flavors combining in perfect harmony. Nothing too fancy: chicken, garlic, butter, flour, bay leaves, thyme, parsley, mushrooms, onions, wine ($12 pinot noir bottles, from Mendoza, Argentina), salt and pepper. Perhaps the only "special" ingredient is the Cognac, which I substituted for Armagnac (roughly the same thing). But in reality, the wine as well as the cognac are your French equivalents of American lager and Tennessee whiskey.

I served it with a Pear-Manchego salad to start (a big hit and I highly recommend it). And Julia knows best: parsley potatoes and green beans were the perfect accompaniments.

All in all, Coq au Vin is a dish that merits the hype. It is a dish that lingers on your palate and your mind, like a perfect vacation day. I keep trying to come back to the taste of that sauce and the meat falling off the bones. I will certainly do it again some day, and then I will only use legs, thighs and wings. In my opinion the breasts were sub-par when compared to the rest.

I have to admit that my first impression of the Coq au Vin, as I took that first bite, was of slight disappointment. But then again, my expectations were impossibly high, carrying the baggage of a meal one waits their entire life for. Moreover, I had a hard time letting go off the "what if this were a true Coq au Vin"- thought. I mean, the chicken cooked for about 30 minutes in the wine. I am sure Jacques would have cooked for a few more hours. Imagine how much more filled with wine and deliciousness his old muscles would be.

Approach your modern-age Coq au Vin with humility and reason and you shall be blown away by this dish. Piglet and I ate the leftovers yesterday, and it was fantastic, again. Too bad we finished it.

Coq au Vin, served with Parsley Potatoes, Green Beans and Pear-Manchego Salad

Recipes:

Coq au vin, by Julia Child
(Chicken in red wine with onions, mushrooms and bacon)
For 4 to 6 people.

A 3-4 oz chunk of lean bacon

2 Tbsp butter

2 1/2 - 3 lb cut-up frying chicken

1/2 tsp salt

1/8 tsp pepper

1/4 cup cognac

3 cups young, full-bodied red wine, such as Burgundy, Beaujolais, Côtes du Rhône, or Chianti

1 - 2 cups brown chicken stock or beef bouillon

1/2 Tbsp tomato paste

2 cloves garlic, mashed

1/4 tsp thyme

1 bay leaf

*12 - 24 brown-braised onions (recipe follows)

**1/2 lb sauteed mushrooms (recipe follows)

3 Tbsp flour

2 Tbsp softened butter

several sprigs fresh parsley

Remove the rind and cut the bacon into lardons (1/4" x 1"
long rectangles). Simmer for 10 minutes in 2 quarts of water. Rinse in cold water. Dry.

Saute the bacon slowly in 2Tbsp of hot butter until it is very lightly browned. Remove to a side dish.

Dry the chicken thoroughly. Brown it in the hot fat in a stove-proof casserole.

Season the chicken with salt and pepper. Return the bacon to the casserole with the chicken.
Cover and cook slowly for 10 minutes, turning the chicken once.

Uncover, and pour in the cognac. Averting your face, ignite the cognac with a lighted match. Shake the casserole back and forth for several seconds until the flames subside.

Pour the wine into the casserole. Add just enough stock or bouillon to cover the chicken. Stir in the tomato paste, garlic, and herbs. Bring to a simmer. Cover and simmer slowly for 25 - 30 minutes, or until the chicken is tender and its juices run a clear yellow when the meat is pricked with a fork. Remove the chicken to a side dish.

While the chicken is cooking, prepare the onions and mushrooms (instructions follow).

Simmer the chicken cooking liquid in the casserole for a minute or two, skimming off fat. Then raise the heat and boil rapidly, reducing the liquid to about 2 1/4 cups. Correct seasoning. Remove the reduced cooking liquid from the heat, then discard the bay leaf.

Blend the butter and flour together into a smooth paste (beurre manié). Beat the paste into the hot liquid with a wire whip. Bring to a simmer, stirring, and simmer for 1-2 minutes. The sauce should be thick enough to coat a spoon lightly.

Arrange the chicken in the casserole, place the mushrooms and onion around it, and baste with the sauce.

Shortly before serving, bring to a simmer, basting the chicken with the sauce. Cover and simmer slowly for about 5 minutes, until chicken is hot through.

Serve from the casserole, or arrange on a hot platter. Decorate with springs of parsley.

*Oignons Glacés à Brun

(Brown-Braised Onions)

18-24 peeled white onions, about 1" in diameter

1 1/2 Tbsp butter

1 1/2 Tbsp olive oil

1/2 cup of red wine

salt and pepper to taste

1 medium herb bouquet (4 parsley sprigs, 1/2 bay leaf, and 1/4 tsp thyme)

Heat the butter and oil in a 9- to 10-inch enameled skillet. When they begin to
bubble, add the onions and saute over moderate heat for about 10 minutes,
rolling the onions around so that they brown evenly as possible and being
careful not to break their skins.

Pour in the wine, season to taste, and add the herb bouquet. Cover and simmer slowly for 40-50 minutes until the onions are perfectly tender but retain their shape, and the liquid has evaporated. Remove the herb bouquet.

**Champignon Sautés au Beurre

(Sauteed Mushrooms)


2 Tbsp butter

1 Tbsp oil

1/2 lb small fresh mushrooms, washed, dried, and left whole


Attention: do not salt them until ready to serve.

Place a 10-inch enameled skillet over high heat with the butter and oil. When the butter foam has begun to subside, indicating it is hot enough, add the mushrooms. Toss and shake the pan for 4 to 5 minutes. During their saute the mushrooms will at first absorb the fat. In 2 to 3 minutes the fat will reappear on their surface, and the mushrooms will begin to brown. As soon as they have browned lightly, remove from heat.

Browned Potatoes

2 pounds small, "boiling"potatoes or new potatoes

2 Tbsp butter

1Tbsp oil (more if needed)

1/4 tsp salt

Peel the potatoes and cut them into elongated olive shapes all the same size, 2 to 2 1/2 inches long and 1 to 1 1/4 inches at their widest diameter. Cut them smoothly, so they will roll around easily and color evenly when sauteed. (You may save the cuttings for a good leek soup, for example.)

Add enough butter and oil to the skillet to film it by 1/16 inch and set over moderately high heat. When butter is very hot put the potatoes into skillet. Leave them for 2 minutes, regulating heat so butter is always very hot but not browning. Then shake skillet back and forth to roll the potatoes and sear them on another side for 2 minutes. Continue thus for 4 to 5 minutes more until the potatoes are a pale golden color all over, indicating that a seared, protective film has formed over them, so that they will not stick to the pan.

Then sprinkle the potatoes with salt and roll them again in the skillet.

Lower heat, cover skillet, and cook for about 15 minutes, shaking potatoes every 3 to 4 minutes to prevent sticking.

They are done when they yield slightly to the pressure of your finger, or a knife pierces them easily.

Chop parsley and sprinkle on top before serving.

Green Beans

1 pound green beans, washed and with ends cut off.

1 1/2 Tbsp butter

Salt and pepper to taste

Bring 4 quarts of salted water to a boil. Cook beans in boiling water for about 3-4 minutes, until they are cooked but have not lost bright green color. Remove from water, add salt and pepper and butter. Serve.

Pear-Manchego Salad

For 4-6 people

Large bowl of mixed greens, washed and dry

1 large red beet

2 1/2 oz Manchego, shaved

2 pears, peeled and cut into eighths

2 Tbsp balsamic vinegar

2 Tbsp water

Balsamic Vinaigrette

Make a bed of greens in a large serving bowl. Peel beet and grate it raw. Place on top of greens.

Bring water and balsamic vinegar to a boil. Cook pears in liquid for about 3 minutes. Remove and place on bed of beets and greens. Arrange Manchego shavings on top. Serve with Balsamic Vinaigrette dressing.

Voilá!

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Squares

I've always been a planner. I like to cram a lot into each and every day and when things go as planned, I'm a happy woman. Having a baby has obviously thrown such predictability out the window. Now, if I can just squeeze in a shower, it's a good day.

So, imagine my delight when yesterday, everything went as planned. Nico took two naps, on time. I showered. We even ran some errands in the morning before nap #2. All of a sudden, it was 3pm and I had a free hour to spare. So what did I do? I made Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Squares!

When I made this recipe last week for a Thanksgiving potluck at work, they were a big hit. They were just as popular last night when my mom, brother, sister-in-law to be, and niece came over for dinner. Daniel made us a Brazilian feast (shrimp cooked in a pumpkin!) and then we had some berry crumble with vanilla ice cream, and these squares, for dessert.

They're perfect for this time of year and a nice alternative to pumpkin pie or some of the more traditional fall-flavored treats. I tinkered with the recipe a little and used just a cup of sugar (instead of 1 1/4 cups) and only half a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips. The squares still tasted perfectly sweet to me.

If you're searching for an easy Thanksgiving dessert, give them a try. I might just make them again myself in a few days.

Pumpkin Chocolate Chip Squares
From Everyday Food
Makes 24
2 cups all-purpose flour (spooned and leveled)
1 tablespoon pumpkin-pie spice
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/4 cups sugar
1 large egg
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup canned pumpkin puree
1 package (12 ounces) semisweet chocolate chips

Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line bottom and sides of a 9-by-13-inch baking pan with foil, leaving an overhang on all sides. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, pie spice, baking soda, and salt; set aside.
2. With an electric mixer, cream butter and sugar on medium-high speed until smooth; beat in egg and vanilla until combined. Beat in pumpkin puree (mixture may appear curdled). Reduce speed to low, and mix in dry ingredients until just combined. Fold in chocolate chips.
3. Spread batter evenly in prepared pan. Bake until edges begin to pull away from sides of pan and a toothpick inserted in center comes out with just a few moist crumbs attached, 35 to 40 minutes. Cool completely in pan.
4. Lift cake from pan (using foil as an aid). Peel off foil, and use a serrated knife to cut into 24 squares.