Truffle... Baking!

Last night - it was late, there was a fire in the fireplace, Zach and Scott (Zach's brother) were playing video games, the Christmas tree gleamed, and we were all feeling rather Norman Rockwell meets the 21st century. There were no chocolate chips to be found in the house, but we did have dark chocolate truffles...

Truffle Cookies

1 1/2 cups flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup white sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 T vanilla
2 egg whites
2 cups chopped dark chocolate truffles (chopped into 1/8" pieces)

~ Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
~ Stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt, and set aside.
~ Beat the butter and sugars until fluffy.
~ Add the vanilla and the egg whites, and beat for another minute.
~ Stir in the flour mixture.
~ Fold in the truffle pieces.
~ Drop the dough by level tablespoons onto cookie sheets. Bake for 12 minutes - until set around the edges.
~ Cool the cookies in the pans for 2 minutes, then transfer to wire racks to cool the rest of the way (serving them warm is the best, though!)

Melted Truffle Brownies

1 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup butter
1/2 cup canola oil
3/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup honey
4 eggs
2 tsp vanilla
16 dark chocolate truffles, melted
2 cups walnut halves

~ Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease an 8X12" (or 8X8", depending on how thick you like your brownies) baking pan.
~ Stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt, and set aside.
~ Cream the butter, oil, sugars, and honey together until well blended.
~ Add the eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition.
~ Stir in the vanilla until just mixed.
~ Fold in the melted truffles.
~ Fold in the walnuts.
~ Pour the batter into the pan, and bake for 20 minutes - until set around the edges, and slightly bubbling in the middle. Allow to cool for a few minutes before serving right from the pan...

Of Plain Cakes and Fancy Cakes... and One that's Both

I should have known I couldn't stay away for two whole weeks... especially when we're spending a glorious portion of every day sampling the delectable treats that Zach's family keeps concocting! The moment I tasted Miss Sharon's coconut cake, I knew I had to obtain the recipe and share it with the world (well, OK, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but you understand). Coconut Cake is, of course, a Dessert Tradition in the south, on the same list as Red Velvet Cake and Pound Cake. The claim to fame of Miss Sharon's version? In addition to being so delectable and gooey that it's really a cross between coconut cake and coconut cream pudding, it's a breezy trick for dressing up your classic vanilla cake recipe and transforming it into a festive centerpiece. Let's just say this is a recipe that crosses the boundary between "plain cakes" and "fancy cakes" - all in 10 minutes!

Miss Sharon's Coconut Cake

1 batch of your favorite vanilla cake batter (enough to fill a 9X15" sheet cake pan). My personal choice is my grandmother's classic "1234 Cake," which I fix from a tiny slip of paper bearing my mother's scribbled list of ingredients. There are no directions on this scrap of paper - it's the first time the recipe has even been written. My grandmother always made it from memory, as per her mother's verbal instructions, as per her mother's guidance... and so the tradition continues. You might even have your own family 1234 Cake! I have included my family's recipe below, if you'd like to sample our own cake history...


Food coloring as desired - Miss Sharon used green, which gave the cake a grand air of a forest of trees covered in snow... I think red or pink would be fun too.

1 (14 oz) can sweetened coconut milk
1 tub low fat cool whip (not gourmet, I know, but everything has its place in the world...)
1 (12 oz) package unsweetened flaked coconut








~ Preheat the oven as per your cake's directions. Grease a 9X15" baking pan.
~ Stir the food coloring into the cake batter until you've achieved the color you fancy.
~ Pour the batter into the baking pan, and bake as your cake dictates. (Once again, see below for the cake recipe I use.)
~ As soon as the cake comes out of the oven, poke holes all over the cake with a drinking straw.
~ Pour the coconut milk over the cake, where it will promptly seep into the cake. Oooohhh... Mmm...
~ Allow the cake to cool. Once cooled, spread the cool whip over the cake, sprinkle the coconut on top, and there you have it - extra gooey coconut cake!


Grandma Sarah's 1234 Cake

1 cup butter, at room temperature
2 cups sugar
3 cups flour
4 eggs
1 1/2 tablespoons baking powder
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla

~ Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 8x8" or one 9X15" baking pan(s).
~ Stir together the flour, baking powder, and salt, and set aside.
~ Cream the butter until fluffy. Add the sugar, and continue creaming until very light and fluffy.
~ Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition.
~ Add the flour mixture and the milk alternately, while mixing until just blended, beginning and ending with flour.
~ Stir in the vanilla until just mixed.
~ Pour the batter into the prepared pan(s), and bang the pan(s) lightly on the counter-top two or three times to release air bubbles.
~ Bake for 25 to 30 minutes - until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean.
~ If you're removing the cake from the pan(s), cool it in the pan(s) for 5 minutes before inverting onto a wire rack to cool completely.

Happy Holidays...

Am I actually writing a post about the end of 2007 already? And why is there a photo of yellow squash in my Holiday Post? Well, we're visiting Zach's family for the rest of the holiday season, so I might not be able to post again until after the New Year...

Hence, it's time to wish you, my friends, a wonderful, beautiful, delicious holiday

from here in the Southland...

where we might not have white Christmases...

but we do have summer squash in December.

Peace, love, and joy!

“Smothered” Tuna Steaks

As one who not only likes tofu, but also puts it in unexpected dishes (Tofu Country Captain, anyone?), I'm well adapted to, shall we say, variations on classic fare. Take my Cajun cooking, for example - a challenging task, given that I don’t eat pork or shellfish. I know, a travesty, right? I’ve lived in the land of the crawfish, and never actually tasted one. (Yes, if you're a non-vegetarian, you can make fun of me now. If you are a vegetarian, we can have a moment of solidarity). Hence, no crawfish etouffee… or shrimp etouffee… or… well, you get the picture. In a moment of drama one morning, I even asked Zach: “Why do you love me? I don’t eat crawfish or even cook crawfish!” I kid you not - this is the extent to which the small, spiny crustacean known as a crawfish can be revered. Zach has deigned to remain with me steadfastly despite my shellfish shortcomings, but I still find myself gazing forlornly at crawfish or shrimp etouffee recipes. Last week, however, I came across a recipe accompanied by a small note informing readers that “etouffee” is French for “smothered.” (Not realizing this fact of translation earlier is what I get for speaking even less French than I do Yiddish, which isn't saying much given that my grasp of Yiddish is confined mostly to slang and swear words. )At that moment of sudden translational clarity, I had a culinary revelation. Surely shrimp and crawfish weren’t the only food items capable of being smothered, were they? I had some lovely tuna steaks on hand – why not smother those?

Hence my Tuna Steaks Etouffee was born – and even Zach the etouffee connoisseur approved.

Tuna Steaks Etouffee

1/2 cup light canola margarine
4 cups chopped onion
2 T minced garlic
3 T flour
1 cup vegetable broth
2 T Cajun seasoning
2 tsp sweet paprika
8 drops hot sauce (plus more to taste, if desired)
4 T chopped parsley
2 T olive oil
4 tuna steaks
salt and pepper.

~ In a skillet over medium heat, melt the butter. Add the onion and garlic, and saute until the onion is soft.
~ Add the flour, and cook, stirring, for 1 minute.
~ Whisk in the broth, Cajun seasoning, paprika, and hot sauce. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 3 minutes. Cover, and simmer, stirring occasionally, for 10 more minutes.
~ Stir in the parsley, remove from the heat, and set aside.
~ In a clean skillet, heat the olive oil over medium-high heat. Season both sides of the tuna steaks with salt and pepper, add them to the skillet, and sear on each side, turning once, until just cooked through (about 3 to 4 minutes per side).
~ Serve the tuna immediately, "smothered" with an ample portion of the sauce!

The Spirit of Cookies

One of my coworkers organized a fantastic event in the true spirit of the holidays - a "cookies for a cause" get together here in the office, where everyone bakes and brings 2 dozen cookies. We then spend the afternoon packing the cookies in festive tins for distribution at a women's and children's shelter. I can't think of a better reason to bake cookies...

I decided to bake a cozy, comforting recipe that's utterly scrumptious (the batch I made for us at home last week disappeared in two days, as it was a total success with Zach and Matt) and also happens to be quite nutritious, with its sprinkling of whole wheat flour, only a modicum of shortening, and all the good stuff packed into peanut butter, egg whites, and oats (combined with plenty of chocolate chips to increase the "yummy" factor...)

Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies

¼ cup light canola margarine
¼ cup applesauce

½ cup peanut butter

1 cup raw sugar

2 egg whites, beaten

¼ cup low fat milk

1 cup rolled oats

1 cup white flour

¾ cup whole wheat flour

2 ½ tsp baking powder

¼ tsp salt
1 cup chocolate chips

~ Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Coat two cookie sheets with cooking spray.
~ Cream together the margarine, applesauce, and peanut butter.
~ Add the brown sugar, beating until light and fluffy.
~ Beat the egg and milk together, and mix into the sugar mixture.
~ Fold in the rolled oats.
~ Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt together, and then add to the oat mixture, stirring until just combined.
~ Fold in the chocolate chips.
~ Drop the dough by rounded teaspoonfuls on the cookie sheets, and bake for12 minutes – until the dough is just set. Transfer the cookies to wire racks to cool, then store in an airtight container. Enjoy! They’re amazing with a dollop of whipped cream on top…

Sufganiot Biegnets Part 2: The Recipe

Here at last, as promised, is the recipe for the Sufganiot Biegnets... These are such a breeze to make, they're definitely for year-round baking. You know, it's not just for Chanukkah anymore... Ok, very bad line. I apologize. I'll stop talking now, and get to the recipe.

Sufganiot Biegnets

1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 T baking powder
2 T light canola margarine
3/4 cup milk (more or less may be necessary, depending on the humidity of where you live)
Canola oil for frying
Powdered sugar for dusting

~ Sift together the flour, salt, and baking powder.
~ Pulse the flour and margarine together in a food processor until well mixed - the flour will now have the texture of fine corn meal.

~ Pour in the milk gradually, adding more or less as necessary to make a moist dough.

~ Pat the dough out on a floured surface to a 1/4" thickness. Fold the dough over once, and pat the dough out again to a generous 1/4."
~ In a large frying pan, heat 1/2" of canola oil until it sizzles when a pinch of dough is dropped in.
~ Cut out the dough into circles (I use a white wine glass - it makes beautifully sized rounds, and the thin glass cuts through the dough with ease!), and transfer gently to the hot oil. These aren't fussy donuts, so I don't bother with a candy thermometer and a precise temperature - just keep the heat around medium once you've heated up the oil initially. You want it hot enough that the oil sizzles gently when the dough circles are introduced, but doesn't go crazy and burn the donuts right away.
~ When the donut is lightly browned on one side, turn it over in the oil and brown the other side. Transfer to a paper towel lined plate, and dust with powdered sugar. (I used raw sugar for this batch, partly because I wanted to try the light caramel flavor and nice crunchy texture of raw sugar, and mostly because I was out of powdered sugar that morning... Powdered sugar really is the way to go).
~ Serve right away, warm from the pan. You want to make just enough so that they're all consumed immediately, because, alas, they don't keep so well. They're so uncomplicated to make, though, that it's worth baking a fresh batch whenever you're craving some...

Oh yes, and here are the little Biegnet bites that you should absolutely make with the leftover bits of dough:

Sufganiot! Israel meets New Orleans

What are sufganiot? Jelly doughnuts! “Sufganiot” is Hebrew for “doughnut” (traditionally a jelly doughnut), the confection that fills bakery windows in Israel (and worldwide) every Chanukkah season. (Fried foods are traditional at Chaukkah-time, in celebration of the miracle of the oil.) When I was old enough to be of use in the kitchen beyond getting my hands messy with the latke (potato pancake) batter, my mother and I began making homemade sufganiot for Chanukkah. There is something completely magical about doughnut-making at any age, especially watching the blobs of dough puff cheerfully up into the air as they fry.

Change gears (and geographic locations) for a moment. If you’ve ever been to New Orleans, chances are you’ve enjoyed a biegnet – preferably with a cup of chicory coffee at Café du Monde. Biegnets are, I would argue, the most divine doughnut possible – a light, melt-in-your-mouth, not-too-sweet perfection of a doughnut cloud. I learned to make little “biegnet bites” from leftover scraps of my grandmother’s biscuit dough recipe, and, while there might be leftover biscuits on occasion, there are never leftover biegnet bites!

This year, then, I decided combine both traditions and locales, and fix Sufganiot Biegnets. All in all, I used that same biscuit dough to make bigger versions of the biegnet bites – which turned into the breeziest, zippiest, (can you imagine making 40 homemade doughnuts, start to finish, in 45 minutes?!), slightly crispy on the outside, light and fluffy and slightly chewy chanukkah doughnuts.

Now that I've been a terrible tease, I shall say... Recipe and photos forthcoming... (I'm still editing the photos, and the recipe is still in non-digital form on a note-card... They'll come soon, I promise!)

Cardamom in the Chemistry Lab

I just read Ambrosia and Nectar’s wonderful post about carrot and cardamom mash, which reminded me of one of my favorite stories from college, which happens, yes, to involve cardamom…

The story occurred during the semester I was taking Organic Chemistry, along with 40 or so other students who all (myself included) spent the final month of the semester living in the organic chemistry lab in total terror while trying to identify two unknown compounds (our laboratory final exam). The process, of course, involved a battery of tests and spectroscopy, but we all hoped to be fortunate enough to be assigned a compound that came with a ‘physical hint’ of some form – like the bit of liquid in the test tube Andrew received, which immediately diffused an intensely foul reek throughout the entire lab. The rest of us were less than pleased, but Andrew was delighted – “It’s sulfur! I have a sulfur-containing compound!”

Anyway, I was taking a much-needed break from the windowless four walls of the lab, pouring over my notes outside on a fresh spring day, when my studying was arrested by the sound of my name at shouted volume. I looked up to see my friend and classmate, Ryan, running towards me at top speed across the campus, carrying something carefully in his hand. “I know what my compound is!” Ryan proclaimed. (By now, the entire campus also knew that Ryan knew what his compound was). “I know what it is! Smell it! Smell it! What does it smell like?” I took the test tube, wafted it before my nose, and sure enough, the brown powder within bore a distinct scent of cardamom seeds. I looked at Ryan quizzically: “Cardamom? Is it cardamom?” “Yes!” Ryan replied, yelling again – “and I had to ask you because you were the only person I knew who cooked!”

Unfortunately for the story, his compound didn’t turn out to be cardamom after all (despite our momentary euphoria, we were both eventually slightly suspicious of the notion that our professors had really given Ryan a spice for his compound when the rest of us has substances like 3-methyl benzanol), but regardless I will never forget Ryan’s cardamom-inspired flight across campus. Ah, the magic of food, and the sensory memories it invokes – even in a college chemistry lab.

Grandma's Lasagna

My grandmother isn’t Italian, but even my friend Kathleen, who is Italian – and who makes incredible “gravy” (aka red sauce aka tomato sauce) and meatballs – says that Grandma’s lasagna is fantastic. It’s the lasagna of my childhood; creamy, gooey, rich, deep, and comforting. In my last post I wondered about the role of food in comforting and restoring, but I shouldn’t have even paused or thought twice for a moment. Last night we gathered in the kitchen, and made Grandma’s lasagna. Clustered around the countertops, we creamed ricotta and layered sauce. This is unfussy lasagna, the kind you make while chatting or reminiscing. The kind you assemble casually, waiting for someone to inevitably notice that they’ve never before seen so much cheese all going into one place. The kind you always make in a very large batch, either for a dinner party where everyone becomes family, in anticipation of freezing leftovers, or so your friends know that there really always is enough for one more plate at the table.

Grandma’s Lasagna

2 lbs. part-skim ricotta cheese
8 oz. cream cheese
2 tsp sugar
2 eggs
a pinch of nutmeg
1 lb. frozen spinach, thawed and drained well
1 ½ lb mozzarella, shredded
1 ½ lb provolone, shredded
2 ½ lb of your favorite marinara sauce
1 box “no boil” lasagna pasta

~ Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.
~ Combine the ricotta, cream cheese, sugar, eggs, and nutmeg, and beat until smooth and creamy.
~ Fold the spinach into the ricotta mixture.
~ Toss the shredded mozzarella and provolone together until mixed.
~ In a 15X9” baking pan, spread a layer of marinara sauce. Top with a layer of pasta. Spread a generous layer of the ricotta mixture on top, then top that with some shredded cheese. Continue layering in this fashion (marinara, pasta, ricotta, shredded cheese) until the pan is full, making sure to end with the shredded cheese layer (I can fit 3 complete layers in my pan, but it varies, of course).
~ Bake for 35-40 minutes, until the top layer of cheese is melted, slightly set, and just barely beginning to brown on top. Remove from the oven, and allow to sit for 10 minutes before slicing. Enjoy!

How Inept, Sorrow

I'd planned to write about weekend baking in this post, but this afternoon we learned that the mother of a good friend had passed away in a car accident. I never knew her, but her son is one of Zach's best friends since childhood, who actually introduced Zach and I. A degree removed from the grief, I worry about Zach and his friend, and try to be there in as many was as possible. Is one always inept in times like these? Several states away, I am wondering how to make up for the fact that I cannot reach out with a hug in person. Or rather, I am wondering how to send that message long-distance. How do you send your love and care long distance? You probably can't, properly. Still, I want to send something. Phone calls, cards, letters, and flowers we will send, of course, but I'm wondering - what else is appropriate to send? At a time like this, it's almost impossible to think of food. Yet still, if I was there in person, I would try, however ineptly, to fill the role I've seen my mother carry out so many times - fixing tea, coaxing nourishment somehow. Here, there's nothing I can do, it seems. How small, we are.

May comfort come to those who suffer.

Traffic Jam Saute Pan

For those who love to cook, there are few activities more pleasurable than spending an hour or two (or three) in the kitchen. I love the whole process, even chopping vegetables – the smooth rhythm, the deep colors, the crisp scents.

Sometimes, though (or more frequently than sometimes) you have the kind of day where you have to run a mail merge five times because those labels just aren’t formatting correctly, your boss calls and informs you that she’ll be back from a meeting early and needs that report by tomorrow instead of Monday, your second boss calls and said she made a mistake; it’s not sixty copies of those mailings she needs, it’s a hundred and sixty (and you’re wondering why you ever took a job that comes with three bosses), the tech manager informs you that the server backup disk you installed last night malfunctioned, by the time you finally leave work you’re just thankful that boss number three didn’t call… and then you hit a traffic jam that doubles the length of your commute.

By the time you get home you definitely want to unwind in the kitchen and cook something, but you also don’t want to sit down to supper at midnight (however much you might wish it was, this isn’t Saturday night in Madrid).

On nights like these, I forfeit chopping vegetables. Or chopping anything, for that matter. Two nights ago I fixed (and am fixing virtually for you) an entire meal based around your own personal mise en place service – the produce department.

I started off by whipping up some broccoli slaw – just fix your regular coleslaw, but with a bag of the handy broccoli slaw mixes many grocery stores now carry. It’s just like coleslaw, but with an added punch of crunch and flavor (yes, I know, that’s a terribly cheesy rhyme).

Then, to go with my sauteed onions, I pulled out some pre-sliced bell pepper strips,

added some beautifully plump pre-sliced button mushrooms (see the photo at the top!), and extra lean stew beef (also already sliced), and viola - sautéed crispy beef (vegetarian version included) with quinoa!

Sautéed Crispy Beef with Quinoa

4 T olive oil

2 cups sliced onion (you can even find pre-sliced onion in most produce sections, but it’s quite expensive and hence onions are one thing I always do chop)

2 ½ cups frozen sliced multi-colored bell peppers, thawed and drained (these are the greatest! They’re just as lovely as fresh peppers as long as you thaw them and drain them first, they add a stunning mix of colors, and they save a ton of time!)

1 T sweet paprika

1 tsp minced garlic (comes in big jars that are indispensible in the fridge. I’d never settle for anything less than flawless garlic, so I can promise this is perfectly fresh and packed with flavor)

1 T Worcestershire sauce

1 T lemon juice

8 oz sliced button mushrooms

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

1 lb. extra lean sliced stew beef OR vegetarian “beef” strips

Cajun seasoning

~ Heat 2 T of the olive oil in a large non-stick skillet. Sauté the onion, bell peppers, and paprika over medium-high heat until the onion is nice and limp.

~ Add the garlic, and sauté for another minute.

~ Stir in the Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, mushrooms, and salt and pepper, and continue to sauté until the mushrooms are just soft. Transfer the mixture from the pan to a bowl, and set aside.

~ Sprinkle the sliced beef or vegetarian “beef” strips with Cajun seasoning. Wipe out the skillet, and add the remaining 2 T olive oil. Over medium heat, brown the beef slices until cooked through, turning once or twice to brown both sides evenly.

~ Either stir the beef strips into the vegetable mixture, or serve the beef strips alongside the vegetable mixture – the two are delicious both together and alone!

For the Quinoa:

1 cup quinoa (I need to do an entire post devoted to Quinoa, a wonderful grain that tastes like a cross between rice and couscous)

2 cups water

4 T olive oil

1 tsp Italian seasoning (I put this standby seasoning blend on nearly everything when I’m in a hurry, because it has nearly all of my favorite herbs)

Salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

~ Combine the quinoa and water in a large saucepan, and heat on high, uncovered, until the water begins to boil. Cover, turn the heat to low, and cook for 15 minutes. Remove from heat, let stand covered for 5 min, then fluff with a fork.

~ Fold in the olive oil, Italian seasoning, salt and pepper. Serve warm, either alongside or underneath the beef mixture.

Cupcakes for Co-Workers

I was sitting there at work yesterday, and the Fed-Ex guy hit on me... That in itself isn't so amusing, but the scenario was - I was in the middle of glaring at my computer, trying to figure out how to change some label formats, and he comes in, and I think he's delivering something... So I'm trying to sign for a package, except there's no package and nothing to sign, and I'm wondering what on earth he's doing and why in heaven's name is he just standing there, and then it dawns on me... "Oh..."

That didn't have anything to do with food, I was just amused and thought I'd share. :-)

What does have to do with food and work, though, occurred last week when one of my coworkers was telling me how she was having so much trouble finding a bakery that would fix vegan cupcakes for her grandson's birthday party. (The parents of the kids in her grandson's kindergarten class decided to serve vegan baked goods at class parties to minimize food allergens, which seems like a sensible MO to me.) Anyway, I casually mentioned that the my favorite cupcake recipe happens to be vegan. "Really? Are they complicated to make? Are the ingredients hard to find? Do they, um, taste, you know, well, normal?"

There are lots of excellent vegan blogs out there, and I don't in any way pretend to enter that level of authority. However, I'm frequently struck by how mystified people are that vegan baking can be uncomplicated, delicious, and every bit as good as treats fortified with butter and egg yolks. Since I have gradually become the local resource for vegan dessert recipes amongst my friends, it occurred to me that I should post a few of my favorite standbys - luscious, low-fat, easy to prepare at a moment's notice desserts that will be promptly consumed by vegan and non-vegan aficionados alike. The first time I fixed these cupcakes, for example, Zach and Matt (one of Zach's friends from med school) - both of whom were probably more interested in the fact that the cupcakes were moist, rich, and full of dark chocolate than the fact that the cupcakes they were consuming were actually a good source of fiber - immediately fetched some spare butter-cream frosting from the fridge, garnished their cupcakes, and reminded me why cupcakes are such a cheerful, celebratory, friendly sort of dessert as we stood laughing and eating still-warm cupcakes right there in the kitchen.

Super Yummy Vegan Chocolate Cupcakes

¾ cup whole wheat flour
¾ cup white flour
1 ¼ cup raw sugar
½ cup dark cocoa powder
1 tsp baking powder
¼ tsp baking soda
¼ tsp salt
2 T light canola margarine
2 T olive oil
1 T plain rice vinegar
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup + 2 T cold water

~ Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line muffin tins with paper liners.
~ Toss together the flours, sugar, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.
~ Add the margarine, oil, vinegar, vanilla, and water, and stir until smooth.
~ Pour the batter into the lined muffin cups, and bake for 18 minutes – until a toothpick inserted in the center of a cupcake emerges clean.
~ Cool for 10 minutes, remove from the muffin tins, and cool the rest of the way (or serve warm!) Either way, I like to serve them with whipped cream… (or soy whipped cream, to keep them vegan.) It’s quite a bit lighter than frosting, and just as festive – a nice complement to the fudgey chocolateness.

Hummus and... Pasta?

If this post is a bit briefer than usual, it’s because I spent most of the weekend studying for a final exam instead of starting some of the glorious holiday baking I’d planned to tell y’all about… (we did get our Christmas tree on Saturday, though, so I’m not complaining!) What we did do for a study break on both days, though, was spend lunch watching Soprano’s reruns and eating hummus and pita.

Ask me about my favorite food, and you’ll always get the same answer – “falafel.” Why do I adore falafel so much? For a multitude of reasons, really, but the one at the top of the list is hummus. I make hummus A LOT. I’ve tried a myriad of variations – curried hummus, black bean hummus, roasted red pepper hummus, pinto bean hummus, hummus with every herb imaginable, hummus with eggplant, fava bean hummus, and hummus with zchug. I’m probably forgetting a few…

I adore every variety, but there’s something about pure, "plain" hummus, with the crisp yet creamy flavors of chickpeas, sesame, garlic, and good olive oil, that is unparalleled. I’ve tinkered with hummus recipes for years, and finally arrived at my favorite version. Since everyone’s hummus recipe seems to differ slightly, I figured I would share mine… I put hummus on nearly everything, ranging from corn chips to salads, but the most unusual use for hummus that I’ve devised is Hummus Pasta Salad!

Here’s what you do: Fold a generous quantity of hummus into warm cooked pasta, then toss in some chopped fresh tomatoes, fresh herbs (oregano, basil, etc), salt and freshly ground pepper, and anything else you like (thinly sliced sautéed zucchini is quite nice). Ta da – serve warm or cold! A cross cultural pasta salad of sorts…

Oh, and if anyone has a new version of hummus out there, please do send it my way… I’m a little addicted…

I used to call this Foolproof Hummus, but then I did witness a friend of ours (in his defense, he's actually an excellent, professional chef who was just a little, well, inebriated at the time...) who followed the recipe very loosely, added about 4 times the amount of olive oil, and wound up with the oil separating from a very gloppy mass of chickpea… Now I just call this Hummus.

2 (16 oz.) cans chickpeas, drained, with the liquid reserved

juice of 4 lemons

6 cloves garlic, crushed

1 1/3 cup tahini paste

2 T olive oil, plus more for drizzling

salt and pepper to taste

½ tsp cumin

~ Add 1 can of chickpeas, the garlic, the tahini, the 2 T olive oil, and some of the chickpea liquid to a blender or food processor, and blend until smooth (adding more chickpea liquid or a little more olive oil if necessary to keep the mixture from clumping and refusing to blend). Add the remaining chickpeas, salt, pepper, and cumin, and blend until you have a thick and creamy consistency. Serve drizzled with olive oil, and enjoy with warm fresh pita bread – or any way you like!

Virgin Turkey

I know Thanksgiving has passed, and that perhaps many of you have even tired of Thanksgiving stories, and are ready to move on to the rest of the holiday season. With apologies, however, I can’t keep from announcing: I cooked my first turkey yesterday. “What,” you ask? “A week and a half late? Has she been asleep? Or on another planet for the past month?” Allow me to explain. This year, we had two Thanksgivings – a vegetarian Thanksgiving with my parents on the actual day, and, just yesterday, our own non-vegetarian Thanksgiving. Really, at least in part, I just wanted to cook my first turkey – the dish of the all-American holiday, the most stressed-over, contemplated, talked about dish of the year. What could be the big deal, I wondered? It’s a dish, it has ingredients, you cook it like you would anything else, right?

We picked out a fresh turkey well ahead of time, so we would have plenty of selection – a beautiful, organic turkey, to be exact – and popped it in the freezer. Three days prior to the chosen cooking date, I transferred it from freezer to fridge, and didn’t give it another thought until around 3PM Saturday afternoon, when I decided it was time to begin the preparations. I deposited the turkey on the counter, and prodded it gently with a forefinger. It was as hard as a rock. Somehow, the turkey had not thawed at all. No matter, I thought, I’ll just leave it on the counter for a bit (yes, I know, my nutrition professors would be screaming in horror, but I admit to thawing chicken this way and I haven’t died yet. Do as I say, not as I do). Half an hour later I realized the absurdity of my counter-top solution – if it takes two chicken breasts all day to thaw out in such a manner, how long would this turkey take? A week? More proactive measures would have to be employed. I stared at my microwave, then back at the turkey, and decided it just might fit (suddenly thankful that I had spent more money than I could afford on top-notch microwave when I was a broke graduate student). This was when I discovered the number one challenge of a turkey – it is extremely Large and Cumbersome. While realizing with some part of my brain that I was exaggerating, I was nonetheless convinced that the turkey weighed as much as I did while I wrestled it onto a plate and into the microwave. Because my microwave doesn’t allow “auto-defrost” for anything over 5lb, I typed in the 5lb. setting and figured I’d just start it again when the first round had finished. Now, I’ve never defrosted anything nearly close to five pounds – we’re a two person household, after all (well, 5 if you count the cats, 9 if you count the fish, but they don’t eat much); we defrost things like one pound of ground sirloin or two chicken breasts. Imagine my surprise, then, when the microwave display cheerily read “defrost time: 39 minutes.” Thirty nine minutes?! So much for trusting my microwave. I peered inside after 20 minutes, and found that not only was the turkey completely unfrozen, it was beginning to feel a bit warm. “Don’t start cooking yet!” I yelled at the unsuspecting turkey, reduced to addressing remarks to bird carcasses in my distress. I hastily scrambled to assemble the stuffing – this at least, I knew how to do – sauté some shitake mushrooms and onions, make some breadcrumbs from a beautifully crusty rosemary loaf (see photo above), add some broth, you know the drill. Then came the issue of stuffing the turkey. I was using a roasting bag, as per the advice of my friends Emily and Aaron in Nashville (which turned out to be an excellent idea), but as I wrestled once again with the aforementioned Large Turkey I encountered my next dilemma – how to position the turkey in the stuffing bag? I had read that one should cook the turkey “breast side up,” and I am embarrassed to admit that I had to first picture a live turkey, then rotate the one on my counter a few times, until I decided upon the proper orientation for “breast side up.” Then I noticed that this nice, endorsed turkey roasting position placed the little red pop-out gage underneath the turkey, where it was neither visible nor able to pop out (unless it was strong enough to elevate the entire turkey). However, I seemed to recall my grandmother saying those pop-out gages never worked properly anyway, so I decided what the hey, I’ll do without the thing. Next, gaining confidence, I made a nice buttery paste with salt, pepper, and minced garlic, and carefully began “loosening the skin from the turkey and applying the butter beneath the skin.” In reality this consisted of me, up to my wrist inside the turkey, muttering “I’m sorry, turkey, I know this isn’t very elegant,” but the result was the same. I’m usually a very tidy, relaxed, cheerful cook, mind you, so all of this was entirely uncharacteristic – or at least I'd like to think so.

Anyway, 2 hours later, for some reason the turkey was actually good. The aroma was lovely, Zach did a splendid job of carving, and I even felt ambitious enough to scoop up some of the smaller bits of carved turkey and make fried turkey gravy. The turkey was moist, the stuffing tender and flavorful, and surely the kitchen muses were looking out for me that day. Next year, I hope to proceed with confidence and aplomb – or at least get the turkey thawed on time.