Quenepas

Quenepas:Mamon "Macro", by Luis M. Meléndez.

I think I was nine the year I went to Puerto Rico with my dad for his friend's son's Christening. My mom and brother stayed home for reasons I can't remember, so for two weeks it was just the two of us, exploring the island and eating. Like me, my father likes to snack and feast, and thinks about his next meal midway through the current one. He gladly handed dollar bills out the car window to panhandlers on the highway selling plantain chips and bags of cucas, hard round cookies about the size of my palm that tasted of ginger and shortening with a hint of exhaust. They're the kind of cookies you gnaw on instead of chew, and I could gnaw through a bag for the better part of an afternoon while driving across the island.

We were heading east towards El Yunque, the lush tropical rainforest where my dad's hippie friend would be Christening his son in a river, because on this island even the hippies are Catholics. I wore an orange bathing suit that had reached its final summer, the fabric having grown thin and pilly from chlorine and rough concrete pool walls. The plastic fastener on the back had also grown loose and popped open repeatedly, but I didn't care because I was nine and had been brought to a real river in a real jungle to swim and play with cousins I only barely knew. We climbed huge boulders slick with vegetation, and jumped into the fresh water. Accustomed to pools, at first I squirmed at the thought of fish swimming between my toes in the murky depths, but soon shrugged it off after the third, fourth, fifth jump. The adults weren't really watching us, though they weren't far. Someone discovered a vine that dropped thick and strong from overhead and we grabbed it and swung and dropped in.

In the middle of the afternoon, we broke for the ceremony, and stood by watching as the baby's head was gently washed with three handfuls of fresh water from the river. One for the Father. One for the Son. One for the Holy Spirit. We broke into applause and were released once again. I lay on a boulder with a book, lapping up sun like a lizard and allowing myself to be interrupted only for the occasional treats my father offered--codfish fritters, flaky turnovers filled with cheese, and a bowl filled with quenepas.

Quenepas were always served with a warning. The tough outer shell bursts easily between your teeth with just the slightest pressure revealing a slick, fleshy pulp clinging to a pit. The texture feels almost inappropriate, but the fruit tastes of sweet lime and roses. Eating it is dangerous, since the smooth ball can easily slip down a throat, but we'd been eating them since forever and brushed off the warnings as we sucked on the juicy pulp. After a while, the tannins in the shell left the tips of our tongues feeling like they, too, had been sucked on.

Quenepas are everywhere in Puerto Rico, but in New York they're rare. So I tucked a bag of them among sandy shorts and t-shirts just before flying back. They didn't scan things quite as carefully then, and the seeded branch made it through two airports undisturbed. Back in school I told the class about the river, laying out smooth stones that I'd pulled out the water and passing out one smooth lime green fruit to each of my friends. The teacher, a substitute with a puff of yellow hair and a southern accent, pronounced the names strangely, with a soft y and long a's, and said the word "baptism" like she'd never of such a thing. For a moment I questioned whether it was I who'd made the mistake; a wrong translation, maybe, or some kind of cultural difference. But the kids understood, and I knew that it was just her.

Years later I left my office in the afternoon mug of August to find myself standing in front of a box of them. Tiny green limes with just a hint of bruise all clustered on branches. The vender stared at me oddly as I hungrily shoveled large handfuls into the bag he'd given me. I brought six pounds back to my desk, dropping the pile excitedly before the coworkers who stared at me just as oddly. Stories of river and orange bathing suits tumbled out of my mouth as I showed them the way the delicate shell burst between my teeth.

"Be careful," I warned, when they finally lifted one up to their mouths. "They're dangerous."

We're having a picnic...and you're invited!

This morning I woke up excited about a plan I'd conjured up while sleeping. For a long time I've been wanting to host a meetup event for all the fantastic food bloggers, writers, and chefs I've met online via this blog and Twitter. I envisioned a kind of fabulous Woody Allen-style dinner party with delicious food and even more delectable conversation, but given the size constraints of my (and just about every) New York City apartment, it wasn't really feasible...until now!!! Last night, somewhere in the midst of dreamland, the answer came to me: a potluck picnic in that shared backyard known as Central Park!


I picked a spot not far from the entrance at 103rd street and Central Park West that is usually pretty calm and so pretty it looks like it was ripped out of that Seurat painting. Last year around this time we hosted a picnic there for some of my friends and it was a fantastic success, so I knew it could work. It's just a little bit down and to the right from the 103rd Street entrance, by the lovely weeping willow-line pond known as "The Pool." We'll spread out blankets, bring a dish or two to share (homemade or from a tasty local eatery), a selection of beverages (byo, please) and have a lovely day of edible splendor in the grass. Click here to read more about the spot: http://www.centralparknyc.org/site/PageServer?pagename=virtualpark_northend_thepool

Now, how does that sound for a plan?

If you're interested in joining us (even if you're just a maybe for now), you can do so right on my sidebar by clicking on that nifty little widget, email me at nanditablogs (at) gmail.com, or head over to the invitation page to RSVP.

Oh! And if you have a blog or are on Twitter, I'd love it if you would help me spread the word about the picnic. All food-lovers are welcome, and the more the merrier! And you don't have to actually be from NY--as long as you can make it to the park that day, we'd love to have you!

Here are the details:

What: A potluck picnic in NYC's Central Park
When: July 25, 2009 1pm - 5pm (or later!)
Where: The Pool in Central Park, 103rd Street & Central Park West
Who: Food bloggers, Food writers, chefs, eaters, readers, all are welcome!
Why: To eat, meet, share, and relax
RSVP by emailing me at nanditablogs (at) gmail.com or clicking here

And the winner is...

Thank you to all who entered the book giveaway. I got some great book recommendations and I'm excited to announce the winner of the four books. The lucky reader (as chosen by a randomly selected number) is:


Comment #9, or Hannah of The Daily Etsian!!!

A big congratulations to Hannah! Once I get your mailing address I'll be sure to pop your books in the mail. I hope you enjoy!

Thanks again to everyone who entered. Be sure to check back often for more giveaways. You can also follow me on Twitter at @nandita to stay informed about other fun contests.

Rhubarb Cherry Rosewater Crumble

We brought home a billion stalks of rhubarb the other day. It was really more like eight, but if you've ever carried a bag of long, thick, heavy stalks of rhubarb then I know you know what I mean. I bought the rhubarb with the intention of making a pie, but that didn't quite work out. The truth is that I'm not really committed when it comes to pie. I can make crust, but it bores me and I don't really even like it, to tell you the truth. That's why when the day came to make it, all I wanted to do was lay about with a book and a tall glass of coconut water while the fan blew cool and breezy on me. And as much as I tried to nudge and talk myself into it, I just wouldn't budge.

So I made a lazy pie instead. Or a crumble, if you prefer to be more exact.

Crumble is something between a crisp and a cobbler. It's basically just a dish full of pie filling, with a sweet, crumbly, slightly cakey layer of crust on top. When you pull it from the oven it oozes and bubbles and is all but guaranteed to burn the tips of your fingers when you set it down to cool. Your tongue too if, like me, you're unable to resist tasting a big spoonful of that still-too-hot-to-eat sweet.



This crumble gets its tingly mouthful of flavor from a combination of tart rhubarb, sweet cherries, and just a dash of rosewater. The marriage of flavors is perfect and the not-too-runny and not-too-thick texture puts those gooey canned fillings to shame.



If you've never tasted rhubarb before, I can actually relate. The truth is that I've really only tasted rhubarb twice in my life. The first was about eight years ago when I was an intern/office assistant at a Capital Hill nonprofit in DC. It was an office of the conservative sort, which meant it was mostly men in bow ties and navy sports jackets who drank and flirted and made impassioned impromptu speeches about Ronald Reagan and states' rights and bourbon. It's also where I met the lovely, lovely Moe who was the only other girl in the office and technically my "boss" at the time, though really we were more like war buddies who relied on each other in the midst of all that conservative testosterone.



The rhubarb came in one day in the early summer when Moe and a few of the peripheral women in the office (Wives, mainly. And some roommates.) got together for a day of pie baking during which they tested various crust recipes and fillings.

The results were brought into the office for us to try, and though I'm sure they were all lovely, the one I remember most was strawberry rhubarb. Something about that sweet and tart combination that made me feel like I'd been zapped back in time to one of those garden socials I'd read about in those silly young adult novels. That day, I kind of filed that lovely taste away with the intention of making something, but it wasn't until now that I finally followed through.

This recipe is really easy to follow. Just toss together and bake, really. If you don't have cherries, feel free to substitute strawberries or raspberries or whatever you happen to have hanging around. You can replace the rosewater with lemon juice or orange blossom water or even just a bit of vanilla if you like.

Rhubarb, Cherry, and Rosewater Crumble

Filling:
4-5 big stalks of rhubarb, cut into even pieces about 1" each
2 cups of sweet cherries, pitted and halved
1 tablespoon rosewater
1 tablespoon lemon juice
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
Pinch of salt

Topping:
1 1/3 cups all-purpose unbleached flour
1/2 cup almond meal or other ground nut meal, toasted
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 cup light brown sugar
Zest of one lemon
1 stick of melted butter

1. Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. In a medium bowl, combine the dry ingredients for the topping (flour, ground almonds, baking powder, sugar, zest, and salt). Pour in the melted butter and use your fingers to combine until crumbly. Set aside.

2. In a large bowl, prepare your filling by tossing together the rhubarb, cherries, rosewater, lemon juice, salt, and cornstarch. Make sure everything is evenly distributed.

3. Spread the fruit out evenly in a 9" square baking pan or casserole dish, including any juices that the fruit may have released. Top with the the crumble topping, making sure to distribute it as evenly as possible.

4. Place your baking pan on a baking sheet (this tends to bubble while cooking so this will save you some sticky oven clean-up) and bake for 1 hour or until the topping is golden and the filling has bubbled through in parts.

Let cool slightly before eating. To store, wrap with plastic wrap and keep in the fridge.

Blueberry Muffins

As much as I love homemade everything, I occasionally get cravings for those not-so-homemade treats of my youth. This week it was Dunkin' Donuts blueberry muffins. I used to LOVE those things growing up. Occasionally on the way to school, my mom would pull into the DD parking lot and my little brother and I would race in with only five minutes to get a little something for breakfast. I would invariably get the blueberry muffin because I was a little bit in love with the crunchy sugar crystals on top of the muffin.

It's probably been about 8 years since I stepped inside a Dunkin' Donuts. When I went off to college in DC, I had to forget about them since they're nowhere near as plentiful in the District (especially not Foggy Bottom and Dupont Circle) as they are in NJ. One of my best college friends, Looney, was from Boston and had also grown up on the wonders of Dunkin' Donuts and agreed with me that everything they made was better than that Starbucks place...

Fast-forward to last week. I wasn't feeling too hot and suddenly all I wanted to eat was blueberry muffins. I hunted in vain for a copycat recipe, and failing that, adapted a Martha Stewart recipe I found. It wasn't quite right; a bit softer than I remember and I didn't have the thick sugar crystals for the top (I keep meaning to buy those!), but they satisfied the craving.

I made a dozen, hoping to have enough for the week, but within 2 days they were all gone. The culprit? My boyfriend, who gobbled down two as soon as they came out of the oven, and when I offered to pack him one to take to the office said "Oh yeah...I'll take these three big ones." Needless to say, come photographing time, I was only left with this little guy...

Blueberry Muffins
Makes 12

Ingredients
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, room temperature, plus more for pan
2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for pan
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups fresh blueberries
1 cup white granulated sugar
3 large eggs
1 tablespoon pure vanilla extract
zest of 1/2 lemon
1/2 cup whole milk
2 tablespoons sugar in the raw or decorating sugar crystals (optional)

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Generously butter and flour a standard 12-cup muffin pan. In a medium bowl, sift together flour, baking powder, and salt. Working over the bowl, toss blueberries in a fine sieve with about 1 1/2 teaspoons flour mixture to lightly coat (this will keep the berries afloat in your muffin, instead of letting them settle down to the bottom); set aside the flour mixture and the blueberries.

2. In the bowl of an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream your softened butter and 1 cup sugar on medium-high speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add eggs, one at a time, beating until combined. Mix in vanilla and lemon zest.

3. With the mixer on low speed, add reserved flour mixture, beating until just combined. Add milk, beating until just combined. Do not overmix. Using a rubber spatula, fold in the blueberries. Divide batter evenly among the prepared muffin cups. If desired, sprinkle sugar crystals on top of muffin batter.

4. Bake, rotating pan halfway though, until muffins are golden brown and a cake tester inserted in the center of one muffin comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Transfer pan to a wire rack to cool 10 minutes. Turn muffins on their sides in their cups, and let cool. Serve warm or at room temperature

To store: Wrap muffins individually in parchment paper and keep in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 3 days. If you want to save muffins longer than that, wrap individually in plastic wrap and freeze. To defrost, remove one muffin and leave on the counter overnight, microwave for 20 seconds, or split and toast in a toaster oven or toaster.

Win Four Delicious Food Books!

I've spent the past few weeks cleaning out my apartment and trying to do away with as much clutter as possible. I've donated bags and bags of clothing, and sold off a ton of stuff at a stoop sale. I even joined a fantastic site called Paperpbackswap.com that lets you trade books with strangers from all over the country. I guess that's not really helping since I'm getting books back, but at least I'm not spending any more money!

To further help these efforts, I've decided to do a little book giveaway. On my other blog I'm giving away four fantastic novels and memoirs, but here I figured I'd do something a little bit more edible. I've collected four yummy food-related books that I know you guys will love. The books are:

Broccoli, and Other Tales of Food and Love, by Lara Vapnyar (Fiction. A clever collection of sad and funny short stories about Russian immigrants who seek solace in food. Great recipes with each story and the directions are probably the most entertaining part!)

Climbing the Mango Trees, A Memoir of a Childhood in India, by Madhur Jaffrey (Memoir. A luscious tale by the brilliant cookbook writer and actress that will send you running to the kitchen. With delicious traditional recipes.)

Toast, by Nigel Slater (Memoir. Nigel Slater’s truly extraordinary story of a childhood remembered through food. In each chapter, as he takes readers on a tour of the contents of his family’s pantry—rice pudding, tinned ham, cream soda, mince pies, lemon drops, bourbon biscuits—we are transported....)

The Adventures of Food, Edited by Richard Sterling (Essay Anthology. Wonderful collection of essays from great food writers about adventures encountered while traveling around the world.)


To enter to win them, all you have to do is one (or all 3!) of the following:

1.) Leave a comment telling me either what book you're reading now or what you like to do when it's time to organize your shelves. That will get you one entry.

2.) Follow me on twitter (@nandita) and tweet a link about this contest then come back here to say you did it (with a link so I can see it). If you're already following me, just tweet about the contest and then leave another comment telling me you did. That will get you a second entry.

3.) Post about this contest on your blog, website, or Facebook page (and then let me know you did). That will get you a third entry.

The winner will be chosen randomly using a random number generator. You must include your email or twitter name with your entry so that I can contact you. If I can't find a way to contact the winner, then a second entry will be chosen. Contest is open to everyone who is not related to me. It's OK if you live outside the US--we'll find a way to get the books to you if you win. Maximum 3 entries per person. All entries must be in by July 4th, 11:59 PM EST.

Good Luck!!

Creamy Asparagus Soup w/ Bacon & Asparagus Tip Garnish

When we got back from Aruba a few weeks ago, there wasn't much in our fridge. Just before leaving I'd dutifully cooked my way through the majority of what we had then tossed out anything I suspected would spoil before we got back. Had it not been for the work farmer's market they hold in our cafeteria every Wednesday, our first dinner back would have likely been scrambled eggs. But fortunately, I was able to snag a beautiful (and huge!) bunch of local purple asparagus to turn into delicious soup.

Soup might seem like an odd choice for a summer meal, but this Creamy Asparagus Soup is actually quite perfect. It comes together easily and requires minimal time in front of the stove. Even better, it travels well and reheats even better, so you can make a batch early in the week for quick lunches or meals, or bring the leftovers into work. (Also, when you think about it, it really hasn't been much of a summer, has it?)



I started this soup with bacon. OK, ok, I confess. I start just about *every* soup with bacon. Just a few strips snipped into small pieces with scissors or a knife and browned at the bottom of my Dutch oven. I scooped out the crispy pieces and set them aside and added minced onion, garlic, and shallots to the bacon fat to saute for a few minutes. (Feel free chop coarsely instead of mincing. This soup will soon be pureed, and the beauty of a pureed soup is that you can be really lazy and haphazard with your chopping. No one cares. It will cook just the same and you'll blend it all up anyway.) Then in went the asparagus pieces (with tips reserved for garnish). I topped it off with some chicken stock and let it cook for a bit just until the asparagus was softened. I pureed everything with my immersion blender (I love that thing so much, I just might make it my maid of honor when the time comes!). A generous glug of cream to round things out and some salt and pepper to season. And that's it! Serve in these ridiculously adorable bowls with handles and top with generous sprinkles of bacon and asparagus tips.

Mmmm...don't you love summer soup?

Creamy Asparagus Soup

Ingredients:
3 tablespoons olive oil
3 Strips bacon
2 pounds asparagus
1 medium onion, chopped
1 large shallot, chopped
6 cups chicken or vegetable broth
1/2 to 3/4 cup heavy cream
Kosher salt
Freshly ground pepper


Directions:
1. Heat the olive oil in a medium sized dutch oven. Add the bacon pieces and let cook over medium heat until crisp. Remove the bacon pieces and reserve, leaving the bacon fat and oil in the pot.

2. Add the chopped onions and shallots. Saute for about 5 - 10 minutes or until the onions and shallots turn slightly caramelized.

3. While the onions are cooking, prepare your asparagus. Trim and discard the fibrous portion of the asparagus (about 1 inch at the base). Cut the asparagus tips and set them aside. Cut the asparagus stalks into 1-inch segments and reserve.

4. Add the asparagus stalks to the onions and saute for one minute.

5. Pour in the vegetable or chicken broth and let simmer for about 15 minutes.

6. While the asparagus simmers, small saucepan with a few cups of water to boil and quickly blanch the asparagus tips by dropping into the boiling water and letting cook for 2 minutes. Drain and immediately rinse with cold water and set aside. (This can also be done in the microwave)

7. Use an immersion (or regular) blender to puree the soup until creamy. Add the cream to your taste and season with salt and pepper.

8. To serve, ladle the soup into bowls and garnish with generous sprinkles of the reserved asparagus tips and the crisped bacon bits.

Mini Crab Cakes with Cilantro-Lime Aioli

These little crab cakes were the first to disappear at the dinner party I hosted Saturday evening. Based on a Bon Appetit recipe I spotted in the April 2009 issue, the crab cakes are assembled by layering bread crumb mixture and a savory crab filling in mini muffin tins. They are baked instead of fried, and can be prepared ahead of time—a godsend when it’s 30 minutes until the guests arrive and you’ve yet to hop in the shower.

Since I found the original results a bit plain as an appetizer, I put together a cilantro-lime aioli to drizzle over the tops before serving. I made my aioli from scratch in the food processor with egg yolks and vegetable oil, but in a pinch you can blend a cup of prepared mayo with a bunch of cilantro, a generous squeeze of lime, and two garlic cloves. Blitz them in your blender or processor for a minute then serve. The result is similar and the color will grab everyone’s attention. Leftovers make a natural addition to your weekday sandwiches.

Mini Crab Cakes with Cilantro-Lime Aioli
Adapted from Bon Appetit, April 2009
If lump crab stretches your budget too much, feel free to replace with claw meat. It’s usually half the price and the flavor and texture will be similar in a recipe like this. Avoid the temptation to use imitation crab (or “krab”) as it’s loaded with preservatives, artificial color, and sugar.

Ingredients
8 oz Neufchâtel or cream cheese, room temperature
3/4 cup grated Pecorino cheese
1 large egg
1/4 cup plain Greek-style yogurt such as Fage or Oikos
2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
4 teaspoons plus 2 tablespoons chopped fresh chives, divided
1/4 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon Old Bay seasoning
6 oz fresh lump crabmeat, picked over and coarsely shredded
1 cup panko (Japanese breadcrumbs) or plain, unseasoned breadcrumbs
1/4 cup unsalted butter, melted, plus more for pans
Fresh chives, cut into 1” pieces
Cilantro-lime aioli (recipe below)

2 mini muffin pans


Directions
In the bowl of your electric mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the cream cheese until smooth. Add 1/4 cup of the Pecorino and the egg; beat until incorporated. Beat in the yogurt, zest, 4 teaspoons chopped chives, salt, and spices. Fold in the crabmeat. This can be made up to 1 day ahead (just keep chill and covered in the rerigerator)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Generously butter 2 mini muffin pans. Toss the breadcrumbs with 1/2 cup of Pecorino and 2 tablspoons of chopped chives. Drizzle 1/4 cup melted butter and mix until evenly moistened.

Press 1 rounded teaspoon of panko into the bottom of your prepared muffin tins. Top with 1 tablespoon of crab filling. Sprinkle with more panko until it is full covered. Continue until you have used all the bread crumbs and all the fillings

Bake the crab cakes until golden on top and slightly puffed, about 30 minutes. Cool in pans for 5 minutes, then use a skewer or knife to gently loosen the cakes and remove from the pan. Arrange on baking sheets and let stand at room temperature. Rewarm in 350 degree oven for 6 minutes before serving.

Arrange on serving tray and drizzle each crab cake with 1 teaspoon of aioli dressing. Top with two crisscrossed chives

Cilantro-Lime Aioli
This aioli is a brilliant addition to seafood, but can also be used in sandwiches or over grilled chicken

Ingredients
1 large egg yolk, room temperature
Juice of half a lime
1/2 teaspoon Dijon mustard (not course grained)
1/4 cup vegetable oil
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 garlic cloves
1 bunch cilantro, washed, trimmed of the stem bottoms, and patted dry
Kosher salt


Directions
Add the egg yolk to the bowl of your food processor with the blade attachment. Whisk in lime juice and mustard.

In a separate bowl, combine the oils and then add the oil mixture in a slow steady trickle through the opening in your processor while the blade is whisking constantly. Continue until all the oil is incorporated and the mixture has emulsified (thickened to a creamy consistency).

Add the garlic cloves and cilantro in small bunches, allowing it all to be processed and incorporated. Season with kosher salt to taste.

Chill, covered, until ready to use.

"Let them eat (onion) brioche"

I never realized that whole Marie Antoinette thing was really about brioche. Everyone knows that she never really uttered that phrase, but did you know that it was mistranslated to begin with? It wasn't cake that the poor were dismissively told to eat, but brioche. Rich, buttery, golden brioche. When you think about it, it seems even meaner, doesn't it?

Brioche, after all, is the rich man's bread. Enriched with eggs, butter, and sugar; ingredients out of reach for most peasants. Ingredients that still make me wince as I add them to my cart today! The different variations of it are even defined as "poor, middle class, and rich" based on the quantities of butter included in the dough. It's really no wonder the girl lost her head...



My version really is a "rich" brioche that will all but make *you* lose your head! With the maximum butter content, plus a heaping serving of caramelized onions. I made this bread when I was sick and home from work and bored out of my head. Though I could not smell and could barely taste, I wanted to make something. We had frozen burgers in the fridge, mushrooms for sauteeing, stinky Stilton, but no bread.

So I made bread.

This recipe started out lovely and perfect on the blog, Bread Baby. I made few changes--really I just upped the amount of butter, used heavy cream instead of milk, and red onions since they were all I had. I split the risen dough into 8 4oz rolls instead of one big loaf and sprinkled sesame seeds on half of them.

It took barely any time or energy to prepare the dough (trust me, I had little of either). I popped them in the oven to bake just a few minutes after Eugene got home from the gym. By the time he got out of the shower, the aroma of caramelized onions and freshly baked bread had filled the apartment. It may have actually been the first thing my stuffy nose was able to detect that week.

The rolls were perfect with the burgers! The caramelized onion in the bread and the buttery richness really added a fantastic layer to them. The next morning, the kitchen still had that incredible aroma of the freshly baked rolls, and the temptation was too much to resist. We toasted the leftovers and filled them with smoked salmon, raw onions and cream cheese for a perfect little breakfast sandwich. Divided into even smaller portions (perhaps 2.5 oz), I expect these would also make great little dinner rolls.

Onion Brioche Hamburger Buns
Adapted from Bread Baby

**This recipe makes about 16 full-size hamburger buns**

4 1/2 tsp instant yeast
1/2 cup lukewarm water (105 - 115 degrees)
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 1/4 cup butter at room temp
4 eggs (beaten)
3 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp salt
7 cups flour (plus more if necessary)
1 minced red onion
Semolina or cornmeal (for dusting)
1 egg yolk, beaten (for egg wash)
Sesame seeds (optional)

Pour the cream into a small saucepan and heat slightly until it just bubbles, then turn off heat. Add the butter and let it melt with the cream as it cools.

In a medium skillet, melt 1 tbsp of butter and saute the minced onion until it is soft and smells rich and lightly caramelized. Remove from heat and let cool to room temperature.

Add the yeast, lukewarm water, and sugar into the base of your mixer and whisk briefly until it dissolves. Let sit for a couple minutes until the mixture starts to bubble a bit.

Add the warm cream, eggs, and flour to the mix and combine with the dough hook just for a minute.

Add the salt.

Now continue to knead with the dough hook for about 10 minutes, adding more flour if necessary until the dough is silky and only slightly tacky (but not incredibly sticky). It should clear the sides, but still stick to the bottom a bit like a dough tornado.

Add the cooled and sautéed onions and knead into the dough well so they are evenly distributed.

Remove the dough and form into a large bowl. Place into a large bowl and cover loosely with plastic wrap and a clean towel. Set in a warm, draft-free spot to rise for approximately 1 hour or until doubled.

Poke the dough gently to release any air. Reshape into a ball and let rise for another 45 minutes to an hour.

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. Sprinkle two large baking sheets with a bit of semolina or cornmeal

After the second rise, divide the dough into equal 4 oz pieces (about 2/3 the size of what you want your final burger bun to look like). Use your hands to shape into little smooth balls by pulling all the dough down and pinching on the bottom. Place these on the semolina-dusted baking sheet, seam side down and press slightly to flatten a bit. Keep the rolls about 2” apart if you want them to bake separately or only about 1” apart if you would like the sides to touch while baking for that “pull apart” look that store buns usually have. Continue with all the remaining dough.

Take the final egg yolk and beat it gently with 3 tablespoons of lukewarm water. Use a pastry brush to gently brush the egg wash over the buns (this will give them that bit of gleam once baked). (Save the reserve egg wash for a second brush after the final rise)

Cover lightly with plastic and let rise for about 35 minutes. Brush lightly again with the egg. If desired, sprinkle sesame seeds over the brushed buns. I like to alternate the sesame seeds so that half of them have them and half don’t. This way people can choose what kind they prefer. You can also get creative here and sprinkle them with other things like dried garlic, poppy or pumpkin seeds, etc.

Bake for 25-30 minutes or until golden and the bottom has a hollow sound to the touch.

Cardamom-Semolina & Lavender-Lemon Shortbread Cookies

A few months ago, one of my coworkers handed me a page marked in the new Food Network Magazine. I admit that I was a bit skeptical at first since I always assumed a lot of those recipes were a bit more Sandra Lee than Alton Brown (if you know what I mean...). It turns out, I was wrong! After reading the recipe for Cardamon-Semolina Shortbread Cookies, I realized that it seemed like something I would enjoy trying.

That night, after dinner and my shows were over, I wandered into the kitchen with the recipe and started mixing. The dough came together easily enough. It's a quickie slice-and-bake style that you pop in the fridge and can even keep in the freezer indefinitely. Never satisfied with leaving well enough alone, I decided to double the recipe and try out a second version with dried lavender and a lemon glaze on top.


Both cookies came out beautifully. The lavender ones were particularly pretty to look at with the glaze and little specks of purplish-lavender shining through. They tasted even better than they looked: buttery and with floral and spicy undertones. The semolina really transformed the texture of the cookies into something a bit more substantial than the usual crumbly shortbread. The irony of the whole thing is that I don't really even like shortbread, but I really enjoyed these. My coworkers gobbled up the batch I brought them, and Eugene and my dad took care of the rest.

Like I mentioned, the dough is the kind that you can prepare ahead of time and then just slice and bake as necessary. I still have a log of the cardamom-semolina in the fridge, just waiting for someone to drop by for tea.

Cardamom-Semolina Shortbread Cookies
Recipe adapted from Food Network Magazine

Ingredients

3 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup semolina flour
2 1/4 teaspoons ground cardamom
4 sticks unsalted butter, softened
1 3/4 cups sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 large egg yolks
1 teaspoon orange-flower water

Directions

Sift together both flours and 2 teaspoons cardamom in a large bowl; set aside.

Using a mixer, beat the butter, 1 1/4 cups sugar and the salt in a large bowl until light and fluffy. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, then add the egg yolks; mix well. Add the dry ingredients and mix until just incorporated. Mix in the orange-flower water.

Divide the dough in half; place each half on a sheet of wax paper. Using the wax paper, roll each piece of dough into a 12-by-1 1/2-inch log. Wrap tightly and chill until firm, at least 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Mix the remaining 1/2 cup sugar and 1/4 teaspoon cardamom in a bowl. Slice one log of dough into 1/4-inch-thick rounds (keep the remaining log refrigerated). Dip the tops of dough rounds in the cardamom sugar and arrange on ungreased baking sheets; bake until golden brown, 12 to 15 minutes. Place the cookies on a wire rack to cool. Repeat with the remaining log of dough.

Lavender-Lemon Semolina Shortbread Cookies
Replace cardamom with equal amount of crushed dried lavender. Add 1 teaspoon of fresh lemon zest. Proceed with recipe as stated above. Top with lemon glaze (recipe follows).

Lemon Glaze

Ingredients

1.5 cups powdered sugar
3 tablespoons lemon juice
1 lemon, zested

Directions

Combine the powdered sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest in a small bowl and stir until smooth making sure there are no lumps. Use a spoon to drizzle about 1/2-teaspoon onto each cooled cookie.

Let harden for about two hours (uncovered at room temperature), then store in an air-tight container for up to one week.