Having my cake and eating it too

Do you remember very much from your childhood?

As a very young child, I remember fleeting moments of frustration mingled with happiness. I couldn't always make things work like I wanted to exactly when I wanted them. For instance, I knew that if I found the square plastic case with the picture of a jean pocket and a red cap sticking out of it, and I got the round disk into the player and pushed a certain button, my favorite song would come on ("Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen, in case you wondered). But sometimes the CD wouldn't be the right one; or I'd put it on upside down; or there'd be no CD in there at all. Or I'd push the wrong button or push it too many times and then the wrong song would come on and I never knew why.

Life as a little kid was a confusing world of rules that I couldn't control. Adults never understood me, eating chocolate for breakfast was Definitely Out of The Question, and whenever I tried to make cupcakes out of the box, they just tasted funny. It never occurred to me that there would come a day when my knowledge base (or physical skills) would be to my own satisfaction, but it did occur to me that as far as stages in life, I was just starting out. There were bullies at school, bees that that would sting a person for (apparently) no reason, and, time-outs that seemed as arbitrary of an occurrence as seeing a falling star. In short, being a child for me was about unpredictable, unavoidable circumstance. My world felt out of my control, and I didn't like it that way.

Of course, like every other grown person out there, I figured it all out eventually. There were those brilliant years of independence, of new skills and talents, of feeling like I knew it all even while I mistakenly thought I was humble, of reinventing myself every 30 seconds only to discover that the new me still wasn't quite right, of realizing that I didn't know anything at all but still wasn't humble, and of pure desperation for just not being able to be the person I wanted to be with the life that I thought I really wanted to have. Then I slowly began to construct my adult world. It started with a canine companion, an apartment, some important friends, the relationship, the career path and ultimately a personality that seems to be here to stay. There was a moment in life when things, attainable, tangible things (goals?) were finally within my grasp.

Suddenly I find myself with a pathetically mundane life filled with various goals I have invented for myself: the house, a good haircut, two dogs, my husband... we take them to the park in our Volvo wagon, which is where we met, under the big tree at the bottom of the hill. It's so picturesque some days that I almost want to gag (the fact that anybody is still reading this is promising). You see, it turns out that exactly what I wanted as a young kid - dessert before dinner, a big wheels truck, to watch cartoons on Saturday morning - really wasn't actually that important. Those exact things changed from day to day and year to year in as capricious of a manner as I choose my hair color. I think I finally figured out that the most important thing I have, the thing that keeps me together when I'm stressed out or feel like I'm losing it, is knowing that what I control is merely a state of mind. Sometimes, getting my control fix after a bad day is as simple as turning on the oven and grabbing a recipe. In the world of baked goods, it's easy to measure out exactly 1 cup of sugar, and to feel pretty good about that small success while you're at it.

I'm an adult now. I get to have my cake and eat it too. Chocolate, with beer in it, for breakfast even, if I want.

Chocolate Guinness Cake

Serves: don't ask

My posts have been full of "bests" lately, but this really is the best chocolate cake I have ever had. By now you should realize that I am a cookie person; the Chocolate Guinness Cake may change my dessert preferences forever - seriously. It is unbelievably moist, fail-proof, chocolatey, complex, dense and light all at the same time. It is amazing. I will be singing the praises of this cake for years to come. It'll take you several bowls and at least a half hour of hands on time to make it, but it's worth it. I should add that while about 80% of the people who ate this sang its praises repeatedly, the remaining 20% (Greg included) said that it was pretty good but didn't knock their socks off. I say, just try it and decide for yourself.

"Original" Source: Barrington Brewery in Great Barrington, MA

Modified Source: Deb at SmittenKitchen

The "original" epicurious recipe makes a gigantic cake. I made 75% of the original recipe in three 8" rounds. Deb made a 50% batch for a Bundt pan. One 8" round would easily serve 6-10, which is the recipe I am providing here. I think these would make fantastic cupcakes, especially with a gooey ganache or jelly filling.

Here is the recipe for one 8" round pan:

1/2 cup Guinness

1/2 cup butter

6 tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1 large, preferably organic/free-range egg

5 tbsp sour cream

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter one 8-inch round cake pan with 2-inch-high sides. Line with parchment paper*. Butter paper.
2. Bring stout and butter to simmer on stove or in microwave. Add cocoa powder and whisk until mixture is smooth. Cool slightly.
3. Whisk flour, sugar, baking soda, and salt in large bowl to blend. Beat egg and sour cream in another large bowl to blend.
4. Add stout-chocolate mixture to egg mixture and beat just to combine**.
5. Add flour mixture. Using rubber spatula, fold batter until completely combined (the batter will be slightly lumpy - that's okay).
6. Pour batter into pan and give the pan several good thumps flat against the counter***. Bake until tester inserted into center of cakes comes out clean, about 25-35 minutes; remember to turn halfway through the cooking time. Cool 10 minutes. Turn cake out onto rack, brush tops with extra stout****, and cool completely before frosting.

*Note: my favorite trick for chocolatey things is to butter the pan thoroughly, add cocoa powder to coat, shake around the pan, and tap out the excess (see photo up top). I do this instead of parchment paper - way easier

**If the chocolate mixture is too hot to comfortably hold a finger in, just temper the eggs by mixing them with a half cup of the hot mixture at a time. I figure if it burns my finger it'll curdle the eggs.

***Thumping cake batter is always a good idea. It gets the air bubbles out so that the cake will cook evenly. Plus, it is good satisfying fun.

****I added this part. : )

Frosting

I made a chocolate ganache with Baileys in it that I wasn't psyched about. For frosting, I refer you to either of the two sources above, or else just search the web for chocolate ganache recipes (whipping cream + bittersweet chocolate = great) and drizzle over the cake after it has cooled completely.

Wedding, part 3

Olive Oil. We went through almost a gallon of it. Thank you Costco. And friends Kim and Ian, for shopping with us so that we could use their truck to transport all of this food.

Way back when we first got engaged, Greg and I envisioned a fairly simple wedding. With budget constraints, a certain aversion to excess, and some good hard-headed-stubbornness to always do things with our own hands, we came up with the following ideas: on the beach somewhere, very small, and we'd do the catering ourselves.


We told a few people of our plans, and after hearing some laugh, others furrow their eyebrows, and quite a few say "What? Are you mad?", we completely abandoned the idea of a sit-down reception following ceremony. Our families had never met before and the thought of planning a traditional wedding sent me into increasing throws of grumpiness and bad temper: circumstances called for creativity. We decided that if tradition demanded a fanfare-filled, indecently priced, and short-lived event, we'd throw tradition to the wind and get married our way. We had a mostly private ceremony with our immediate families in Italy, and then three months later we threw a celebratory bash for our friends and the rest of our family.


Whether I love food or food loves me, or food equals love to me, I knew that our reception would be centered around food we had lovingly prepared ourselves. The last two days have been a hectic rush of culinary preparation, but I think I feel confident in saying that it worked beautifully. For my own reference mostly, I wrote down the full menu at the bottom of this post, along with a few vaguely written recipes that others might enjoy. The food was great and designed to remind us of the three weeks we spent in Italy. Of course, we made far too much for anybody to eat in a single evening. Even after having most of our guests leave with plates full of leftovers, we still have a fridge stocked with yummy bites for a minimum week's worth of snacking. There are a few things we won't be able to finish off, but I plan to make the savory items into ravioli for freezing, and any remaining bruschetta topping will be great as a fresh pasta sauce. The four cheese lasagna, as we figured after our trial run, was a huge hit. The second most popular dish were the vegan meatballs - very funny, since there were only 4 vegetarians in the whole place, and many of the meat-eaters were shocked to discover that they weren't eating meat at all.


It was a truly wonderful evening. I was so busy that I didn't get a single picture of any of it, but my dad was diligent in snapping pictures every few minutes so we will have a record of the night after all. We invited 150 people, 66 RSVP'd yes, and I'd say somewhere around 50 showed up. We brought in houseplants and little white globe lights, every pitcher and serving utensil we owned, along with big sheets of white butcher paper for covering the tables in true Italian style. Greg's mom made flower arrangements from the weeds in our front yard, and my parents patiently assembled caprese salad skewers until the Italian flag colors of red (tomato), white (mozz), and green (basil) were imprinted in their minds forever. Greg grilled until midnight on Friday, and I made 24 cups of bechemel at 8am on Saturday. My father-in-law fussed over the exact seasoning on his salt cod bakala until it was spicy and perfect, and my aunt, uncle and cousin stuffed favor bags full of photos, and chocolate covered raisins and espresso beans. It was an adventure, to be sure, but I wouldn't trade the memories for the world.


The best part? We were able to see everybody in one room. I can't help but be nostalgic about putting away the wedding dress and sad to remove theknot.com from my bookmark list, but I am filled with happiness to know how many of our friends and family were in one room on one night, sharing laughter and some four cheese lasagna. Being among so many individuals that are important to me, I couldn't escape a feeling of gratitude for all of the fortune in my life. Our love of family and friends is what our wedding has been about.


Greg and I wrote our vows in secret and recited them to each other for the first time on May 21st. I called him my "biggest surprise" and he called me his "greatest success". Even in the three months that we have been married, I see our relationship move forward in ways that I shouldn't really be surprised about after all. Saturday night cemented that bond for me. When I glanced his eye from across the room, or found myself helpless with laughter at stories of Greg's childhood, I was reminded again of how lucky I am to be with such a tremendously talented, generous and loving person. I've said it before in this blog and I'll say it again: thanks, Greg. Love you.

I won't tell you how much the Costco bill came to, but let me just say I'd like to shred my credit card right now. One of the best things I did to prepare for this was to break things down in two ways: (1) by ingredient category (dry goods, canned goods, dairy, fruit, etc), and (2) by recipe in basic steps.

6:30-7:30, Appetizers

• Fruit Platter (cantaloupes, red and and green grapes, Asian pears, oranges)
• 120 Crabcakes (Prepared by friend Stacey) with Lemon Aoili Dip
• 100 Lox Bites
• Cheese Platter (Prepared by friends Kim and Ian)
• Cracker Assortment
• Green and Black Olives

7:30-8:30, Main Dishes

• 120 Vegan Meatballs in Sauce
• 6 9x13" pans Four Cheese Lasagna
• 120 Caprese Salad Skewers
• 9lb Grilled Marinated Shrimp
• Caesar Salad (Prepared by my Sister-in-law)
• 4 9x9" Spinach Tart
• Grilled Vegetables: 10 Eggplants, 15 Zucchini, 2 each of Red, Yellow and Orange Bell Peppers
• 10 Loafs of Ciabaso Bread, with Olive Oil
• 4 Bruschetta Toppings: Tomato/Basil/Garlic, Caramelized Onion/Garlic, Pesto, and Olive Tapenade
• Salt Cod Bakala (prepared by my Father-in-law)

8:30-9:30, Dessert (prepared by my Mother-in-law)

• 100 Frosted Cupcakes
• Chocolate Cookies
• Almond Cookies
• Brownie Bites

The Booze: 100 Peroni, 20 bottles red wine, 20 bottles white wine, 15 bottles champagne




Spinach Tart
My mom's recipe. One of the few things she cooks (she is a self-admitted "food assembler", meaning that she assembles frozen vegetables and main course items into microwave dishes), and it is excellent and easy. Her version includes some sauteed mushrooms and jack cheese, but I prefer just the spinach.
Serves: 6-8

9" pie crust
16 oz frozen chopped spinach, defrosted and thoroughly squeezed to remove all traces of water
1/2 pt whipping cream
3 eggs
Salt, pepper and nutmeg

1. If using frozen pie crust, place in fridge the night before to defrost. Place on counter one hour before prepping
2. Preheat the oven to 350. Thoroughly butter a removable bottom tart pan and drape with pastry. Press pastry into all corners of the pan and sprinkle with several pinches of kosher salt. Chill for 10 minutes, and then bake until cooked through (depending on crust thickness, 5-10 minutes).
   
3. Meanwhile, stir together remaining ingredients. Add salt and pepper to taste* with a dash of nutmeg.
4. Pour filling into tart pan, and bake until set in middle, about 25 minutes.

*This will take a lot of salt and I am sorry to say that I'm just bad at measuring. The only way to check the seasoning, if you are averse to raw egg, is to microwave small bits until they cook through.


Grilled Vegetables

Eggplant, or other firm-fleshed vegetable
Equal parts olive oil and balsamic
Salt and Pepper

1. Slice eggplant (or other vegetable) to 1/2" thickness (a mandoline helps).
2. Marinate overnight with equal parts oil and balsamic vinegar
3. Grill the next day, seasoning each side well with salt and pepper

Four Cheese Lasagna
(Click link for recipe)


Caramelized Onion/Garlic Bruschetta Topping

Olive Oil
2 large yellow or sweet onions
1 head garlic
Salt and Pepper to taste

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Start a heavy bottom pan warming on stovetop with olive oil to coat
2. Slice garlic in half. Brush cut sides with generous amounts of olive oil. Wrap, cut sides up, in silver foil and bake for 45-60 minutes, until cloves have steamed through and begun to caramelize (wait for them to turn a golden color. They'll get very sticky when they're done!). Squeeze out garlic cloves into a small dish and set aside.
   
3. Slice onions to 1/8-1/4" thick rings. Add to warm pan and stir to coat with olive oil. Turn heat to medium-low and watch onions carefully, continuously stirring so that they evenly brown without sticking. It will take 30-40 minutes for them to reach a golden color, and you can add more olive oil if things get dry.
   
4. Puree onion mixture with garlic in food processor until smooth. Salt and pepper to taste (it will take a lot of salt)

Lox Bites

Assemble the following on small crostini round: 1/8" slice of cucumber, slice of lox, 1/2 tsp softened cream cheese and sprig of dill


Caprese Salad Skewers

Marinate small mozzarella balls in Italian seasonings, garlic and olive oil at least overnight. Slide the following onto each skewer: 1-2 grape tomatoes, basil leaf, mozzarella ball, and slice of proscuitto. Drizzle with olive oil.

We kept our to-do list on the fridge. Each little paper was a dish, and it actually helped things stay super organized.

Artichokes Braised with Red Wine

Braised Artichokes. Two words that mean one thing: effort. This recipe is not difficult by any means, but if you do try it make sure that you are in the mood to have many tiny spines prick into your fingers over the course of an hour as you prep the artichokes, and that you're in the mood to get a wine and chicken-broth based facial for an hour as you braise them slowly in a cast iron pot. This is a hot and tedious recipe, but it's totally worth it.



Because the thing is, who doesn't like to eat artichokes? They're expensive and a pain in the you-know-what to prepare, but when you're done, the result is a tender, creamy, flavorful veggie based flesh that can be used to blend other flavors or can be simply enjoyed on its own, with as little adornment as a splash of lemon juice, or if you're feeling real frisky, a pat of melted butter. Artichokes are good. Real good. Sometimes I wonder what random cave-person or hunter-gatherer plucked, peeled, cored and cooked an artichoke on total whim before realizing that it was edible. Let's thank them for it!


This recipe packs a real punch in an I-hope-you-like-red-wine sort of way. With a solid 1/4 cup of red wine for each tiny little baby artichoke, make sure you pick something you'd drink on its own (especially because you're going to be left with exactly two cups of wine for drinking). The rest of the recipe is fairly simple. I chose flavors that would be relatively mild compared to the red wine. Having made this recipe a while back, I've thought about what would improve this: next time, I'll sprinkle chopped toasted walnuts and crumbled blue cheese on top, and maybe I'd stir in some chopped porcini mushrooms with the pancetta.


I needed something mild and creamy to serve this with, so as to balance strength of the artichoke and wine flavor. I made a lemon and saffron risotto with ricotta cheese. I didn't measure anything so I couldn't tell you the recipe, but I would suggest you try it on your own (just stir in ricotta instead of your favorite cheese, along with a splash of fresh squeezed lemon juice, lemon zest and saffron.) If you don't make a risotto to go alongside, make sure whatever you pair this dish with complements the braised artichokes. I'd avoid anything with a red sauce.


By the way, guess what the cool part about braising artichokes in red wine is? They start off looking like this:



And end up looking like this:



Apparently the edges absorb red wine but the centers don't!




Artichokes Braised with Red Wine
Serves: 2, maybe 4 if you have other sides

1/4 cup olive oil
1 tsp red pepper flakes
2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2 oz Italian Pancetta (substitute bacon, or ommit)
8-10 Baby Artichokes
2 cups good, dry red wine
2 cups organic, free-range chicken broth
4 cloves garlic
Baby spinach and arugula for serving

1. Fill a large bowl with cold water and squeeze the juice of two lemons into it. Drop the lemon halves into the bowl. Prep the artichokes: cut off top 1/3, pull off all green/heavy leaves and make sure no spines remain, then peel stem, slice in half, then in quarters, and use a small paring knife to remove any purple leaves*. Drop in lemon water and swirl to rinse off
2. Heat a heavy bottom, preferably cast iron skillet or dutch oven on medium heat. Add olive oil, red pepper flakes, chopped pancetta and black pepper, cooking for 4-5 minutes. Add baby artichoke quarters and stir to coat
3. Turn heat to medium-high. Partially (less than 50%) cover the pot. Over the course of 40-60 minutes, ladle in half a cup of braising liquid. Allow liquid to simmer and evaporate off until artichokes begin sticking. Add additional half cup liquid, scraping the bottom with a wooden spatula to deglaze. Cook until artichokes are soft and edible (more or less braising liquid may be necessary depending on the heat of your pan, and you could use water in a pinch)
   
4. Add garlic and cook over low heat for an additional 3-4 minutes.
5. Serve on top of baby spinach and arugula. Drizzle with olive oil and sprinkle on freshly ground black pepper.
   

*In theory, baby artichokes are entirely edible (choke and all), but I don't totally trust that. I always cut off just the tips of the purple leaves. You should be left with pale green leaves and soft artichoke flesh when your done. I love leaving the stems on to eat later - they're slightly tough, but still flavorful.

**You could also try a more traditional braising method by just dumping in all the braising liquid and cooking over low heat for a very long time. I figured that would make the artichokes mushy, instead of tender and caramelized (as they were in this recipe)

The New Haven Test Kitchen, or, Four-Cheese Lasagna Is Difficult to Photograph

I just couldn't get a good picture of a slice of the lasagna...

I don't believe that I've mentioned this before, but Greg and I have a little Test Kitchen going on these days. We are auditioning recipes for our wedding reception, an event that we will be catering ourselves. Since we were technically wed on May 21st in Italy (or more technically, by a justice of the peace on May 13th in New Haven), and since only about a third of the 150 people we invited are attending, we don't have to worry about anything except the food, and it is only a relatively small quantity of food that we need to prepare at that.

The New Haven Test Kitchen

In our spare evenings, after we shine our shoes and dust under the piano, we're trying to come up with a menu that can serve 50 (maybe 60?) people at 6:30pm on September 1st. Here's our plan so far:

To Start:
- Cheese platter
- 120 mini Costco crabcakes (they're really good!) with dipping sauce
- 120 Lox Bites (Lox and Dilled Cream Cheese on Crostini)

Main:
- 180 Veg meatballs simmering in homemade sauce
- 2 9" Spinach Tortes
- 120 Grilled Shrimp in Italian Marinade
- Big Salad, greens with feta, pears, and balsamic dressing
- Loafs of our amazing local bread (Ciabaso) with Olive Oil and Balsamic for dipping
- Bruschetta bar, with 2-4 cups each of various toppings: olive tapenade, traditional tomatoes, roasted garlic, pesto
- Fresh Fruit Platter: Cantaloupe, Pears, Grapes, Strawberries, and whatever else
- Lots of Greg's Pizza Bites (puff pastry stuffed with pizza toppings)
- My Father-In-Law's Bacala
- Caprese salad skewers

We tried some things with shrimp... (don't worry, they didn't go in the lasagna)

I joked about the "New Haven Test Kitchen", but it is partially true. I spent 8 hours on Saturday and 3 hours on Sunday gathering ingredients, new kitchen equipment (fluted removable bottom tart pans!), and nerve to tackle several previously unexplored recipes with Greg. Not only do we need to find recipes that taste good, they need to be straightforward to prepare (read: assembly line), not too expensive, and most importantly - transport-able, reheat-able, and easily serve-able at room temperature or on chafing trays with sternos. This veritable food convivium has been exhausting, to say the least, since it turns out that despite what I may have thought when I was 6, stuffing myself with puff pastry dough and cheese for hours on end is not What I Always Wanted.


Speaking of saturated fat, let's talk about the point of this whole article: the main dish of the reception. The Big One. Because it turns out that catering to a crowd of meat-eaters, when you yourself would prefer not to serve meat, is complicated. If I had my druthers, I'd like to not serve so much dairy either, but clearly my duties as a hostess outweigh my political views. Except for the 10% about meat. Thus, sans flesh-based animal protein, I will turn to another source: four 9x13 size pans of Cook's Illustrated Four-Cheese Lasagna, or what I like to call, Melted Heavenly Sin (until today I would have doubted that you could stack "heavenly" and "sin" together, but oh, yes, yes you can). This is a recipe from America's Test Kitchen, and I constructed it, almost to the letter, over the course of two hours this afternoon.


If you know anything about me as a blogger, a cook, or, heck, a person, it's that I do not follow written instructions well. I simply can't stand making something without changing it, even if I've never made it before. I know, sick, but I swear it's not cooking ego or anything like that - it's curiosity. If I trust the author of a basic recipe well enough to try the recipe, I believe it will taste good as is. I want to know what happens when I muddle with it. Thus, you will rarely find my basic pancakes without a new fruit or bran ratio in them, my cake recipe without a soy based substitution, or my heavy-cream-alfredo without some skim plus roux. I just have to fiddle. I have to tweak. And although it often leads me to rubbery pancakes, dry cake and curdled sauce... I do enjoy the process.


Except in this case. I took it upon myself as a challenge: make a recipe as it was intended, with no substitutions or alterations. Just do it! Do it so that I will know the perfect proportions, so that I only need try it once before the real deal, so that the alterations that I do eventually make are to things like prepping ingredients ahead, rather than major Taste Kidnappers. Do it because it will make my to-do list shorter and my taste buds, probably, happier.


And I did it. Sort of. Like I said, I don't follow directions well. I got 80% through assembling this lasagna, grumbling in my head the whole time about how the pasta:cheese ratio was totally off, when I realized where my missing cheese was: sitting in front of me, that big bowl of ricotta that I had entirely forgotten to layer.

Woops.


More on that later. Meantime, I can promise you that while this is not a quick or simple recipe, this is an extraordinary lasagna. I can also promise you that I've never used the word extraordinary to describe food. Why today? Well, it's perfect in flavorful complexity. In short, it fills your mouth with some of the greatest cheese-based sensations you've ever met with, and your stomach with something that will keep you full for hours (a 2x2" square of this packs a whopping 420 calories). It's just cheesy and delicious.


What was that about forgetting the ricotta? Oh, yeah. So I ended up having to pull back pasta layers and stuff the ricotta into where it should have been in the first place (i.e., in every layer of all four layers), which disturbed the delicate structure of layers a bit, definitely ruined the photos I was hoping for, but didn't harm the taste at all. In the end, because of this mistake, I ultimately omitted a decent quantity of pasta sheets, and thus the cheese:pasta ratio is way off (so if it looks a bit soupy in my photos, that was my fault not the recipe's). But I know this will be fixed by performing the recipe exactly as intended, and that was the lesson I needed in the first place.

Told ya' it wasn't a good picture...

America's Test Kitchen Four-Cheese Lasagna

Serves: 8-10
From the July 2007 issue of Cook's Illustrated

It's important not to overbake the lasagna. Once the sauce starts bubbling around the edges, turn the oven to broil. If your lasagna pan is not broiler-safe, brown the lasagna at 500 degrees for about 10 minutes. Whole milk is best in the sauce, but skim and low-fat milk also work. Supermarket-brand cheeses work fine in this recipe. The Gorgonzola may be omitted, but the flavor of the lasagna won't be as complex. The test kitchen prefers the flavor and texture of Barilla no-boil noodles, but this recipe will work with most brands. One box of Barilla will yield enough noodles for this recipe; you may need two boxes of other brands.

6 oz Gruyere cheese, shredded
1 oz Parmesan, finely grated
1 1/2 c part-skim ricotta
1 large organic egg, lightly beaten
1/4 tsp black pepper
2 tbsp + 2 tsp minced fresh flat-leaf parsley
3 tbsp unsalted butter
1 medium shallot, minced
1 medium garlic clove, minced
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
2 1/2 cups whole, organic milk
1 1/2 cups free-range, organic chicken broth
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1 bay leaf
Pinch Cayenne
15 no-boil lasagna noodles
8 oz Fontina, shredded
3 oz Gorgonzola, crumbled

1. Place Gruyère and 1/2 cup Parmesan in large heatproof bowl. Combine ricotta, egg, black pepper, and 2 tablespoons parsley in medium bowl. Set both bowls aside.
2. Melt butter in medium saucepan over medium heat until foaming; add shallot and garlic and cook, stirring frequently, until beginning to soften, about 2 minutes. Add flour and cook, stirring constantly, until thoroughly combined, about 1 1/2 minutes; mixture should not brown. Gradually whisk in milk and broth; increase heat to medium-high and bring to full boil, whisking frequently. Add salt and bay leaf, reduce heat to medium-low, and simmer until sauce thickens and coats the back of a spoon, about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally with heatproof rubber spatula or wooden spoon and making sure to scrape bottom and corners of saucepan (you should have about 4 cups).
3. Remove saucepan from heat and discard bay leaf. Gradually whisk 1/4 cup sauce into ricotta mixture. Pour remaining sauce over Gruyère mixture and stir until smooth; set aside while softening noodles.
4. Adjust oven rack to upper middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Place noodles in 13 by 9-inch baking dish and cover with very hot tap water; soak 10 minutes, agitating noodles occasionally to prevent sticking. Remove noodles from water, place in single layer on kitchen towel, and pat dry. Wipe out baking dish and spray lightly with nonstick cooking spray.
5. Distribute 1/2 cup sauce in bottom of baking dish. Place 3 noodles in single layer on top of sauce. Spread 1/2 cup ricotta mixture evenly over noodles and sprinkle evenly with 1/2 cup fontina. Drizzle 1/2 cup sauce evenly over cheese. Repeat layering of noodles, ricotta, fontina, and sauce 3 more times. Place final 3 noodles on top and cover completely with remaining sauce, spreading with rubber spatula and allowing to spill over noodles. Sprinkle evenly with remaining 1/2 cup Parmesan.
6. Spray large sheet foil with nonstick cooking spray and cover lasagna; bake until edges are just bubbling, 25 to 30 minutes, rotating pan halfway through baking time. Remove foil and turn oven to broil. Broil until surface is spotty brown, 3 to 5 minutes. Cool 15 minutes. Sprinkle with remaining 2 teaspoons parsley; cut into pieces and serve.

**(And don't even be tempted to remove the blue cheese or substitute anything, as I originally thought about doing - it is the balance of the different cheese flavors and textures that gives this lasagna its punch)

Heavy Cream, Butter, Syrup... and Gran Marnier.

There are all those healthy mornings: the granola mornings, the egg-white omelet mornings, the hold-the-sugar-add-the-soymilk and the cereal with yogurt and fresh fruit mornings. Healthy Stuff. And then there are mornings like this morning.

Can anybody say "heavy cream"? Greg may have been too hungover to enjoy this breakfast, but I definitely wasn't.


I'm not going to say too much about this French Toast, except that it was Full Fat Fantastic. I toasted several slices of whole grain sandwich bread until crispy, sliced some strawberries and preheated the oven, containing a well-buttered cast iron skillet, to 350.


I added eggs, cream, sugar, vanilla, cinnamon, and... Gran Marnier!


This was the best part. The Gran Marnier was a perfect splash of flavor, helped along with the other spices. I'd highly recommend this rather thrown together recipe. With heavy cream, it literally can't go wrong. Next time I'd think about adding sliced oranges, or layering the toast with bananas and cream cheese. Or maybe even topping the whole thing with some whipped cream (not doing this today took some severe self restraint, folks, saved only by the fact that I ended up adding a splash of heavy cream to my iced coffee, woops, I wasn't going to tell you that).


You could probably simplify things by making it all the night before and popping it in the oven straight from the fridge. Otherwise, enjoy.

Gran Marnier Baked French Toast
Serves: 2

2 tbsp butter
4 slices whole grain sandwich bread
1/2 cup heavy cream
1 cup organic milk or soy milk
2 large organic eggs
2 tsp vanilla
2 tbsp Gran Marnier Liqueur
Pinch of Salt
1 tbsp cinnamon

Strawberries for garnish

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Add butter to baking dish or cast iron skillet and place in oven as it preheats.
   
2. Toast bread to a golden brown. Meanwhile, whisk together remaining ingredients.
3. When bread is toasted, arrange slices in single layer in skillet. Pour egg mixture over and swirl to coat. Return skillet to oven and bake until set in the middle, about 15-20 minutes. Broil for an additional 5 minutes.
4. Meanwhile, slice strawberries for garnish*.
5. Assemble and enjoy

*I sauteed the sliced strawberries with a pat of butter, just until warmed through. I told you this was a "heavy cream" sort of morning...

Golden Lentil and Bulgur Salad with Grilled Lemon Quarters (sans leftovers)

I'm going to begin this blog entry with a story about my dog, Tori. Four and a half years ago, I lived on my own in Arizona. I was working towards my bachelor's degree and wanted some canine companionship. I found my companion at the Arizona Animal Welfare League: short, black, furry and friendly, when she saw me walk by her outdoor enclosure, she rushed to fence and forced her nose through the chain links, curling her long pink tongue as far as it could reach around the cold metal. She tried, in every way her doggy language permitted her, to tell me that she would make a very good friend if I would just take her home and let her try. Her many remarkably and doggy-like qualities maker her my perfect companion: energetic, social, loving and cuddly, everyone who meets Tori agrees that she is sweet and good-natured.


But there is something else that everybody agrees on: if a goat ever challenged Tori to a tire-eating contest, the dog would win, hands down. Tori will eat anything that she can fit into her mouth, edible or not, with speed quicker than Greg can say "kitchen remodel". One day we walked in on her gnawing off chunks of freshly spackled drywall. She's gotten batches of cookies, bags of chocolate, pans of brownies, many types of clothes, socks, dish towels, sticks, dirt, small rocks, fruit, nuts, and whole lemons - and yes these words are all plural as in On More Than One Occasion. She has been known to eat an entire 7lb eggplant Parmesan casserole, a platter of deli meats, and, months later, a 9x9" pan of lasagna cooling in a still-rather-warm-oven. One time the soap in the dishwasher overflowed, and I came running when I saw her eagerly slurping up the suds. Tori's teeth rather regularly pierce the heavy duty metal of dog food cans destined for recycling. Pounds of cheese, cups of butter, loafs of bread - you name it, she ate it.


Which brings me to today's post, a topic that, even one day later, is still making me tear up slightly: Tori ate the leftovers from the best dish I've made all year. Now "best dish I've made all year" (indeed, the leftovers-of) sounds like a rather bold proclamation, and it is. Maybe it was because the dish was exactly what I was craving that evening, or that I was hungry and the dish was healthy, or that it was a brand new dish, something I expected to fail, and something I made without a recipe. Or, maybe it was because the dinner actually turned out really good. Whatever it was, Tori ate it all, in her sneaky, quiet-as-a-mouse manner, while I sat 10 feet away, distracted and oblivious to the delicious food rapidly reaching her insatiable stomach.


Fortunately we ate our first helpings far before her hungry teeth reached the platter, giving me an opportunity to rave about how simple and delicious this dinner truly was. I assembled vegetable kabobs the night before (yellow pepper, red pepper, parboiled carrots, baby bellas and sweet onion) and marinated them with herbs, olive oil, garlic and balsamic overnight. The next day, I assembled baked tofu with quarted lemon slices, started the bulgur salad and left Greg to deal with the grill.


Why was this dish so good? Two words: caramelized lemons. Wow. This idea is one taken directly from 101cookbooks (my second reference in two weeks, I know), and just like sauteed versus boiled gnocchi, I can promise you I will never, ever go back to raw lemon. The juicy, sweet, grilled-marked bites of lemon were A-w-e-s-o-m-e with a capital A. Really. Seriously. Try it. Just quarter lemons and throw them on the grill with everything else - in the words of Martha Stewart, it's a good thing. Grilling these lemon chunks gave them a sweet, warm, mellow flavor that would be perfect for squeezing over any vegetable, seafood, or grain based salad.


Which brings me to the actual recipe provided here. This Bulgur salad was healthy and delicious, speckled with bits of green parsley and yellow lentils. It was easy to prepare and tasted amazing, with a nice balance of bright and mellow, salty and sweet, and chewy and tender. The flavors and textures worked well together. My only comment will be about the balsamic. I don't claim to know what makes any particular balsamic vinegar a "good" vinegar, but I do know that my cheap balsamic happens to be sharp and tart and my smaller bottle of slightly-more-expensive stuff is mellow and sweet in flavor. This recipe requires something mellow and sweet to balance with the salty, nutty Bulgur. I served this Bulgur salad warm on a big platter, surrounded by Arugula (which was a perfect spicy complement to such a mellow salad) with chunks of tomatoes and oil cured olives, and topped by the skewered kabobs whose lemon quarters served to dress the whole dish together.

I really wish I had those leftovers!!


Golden Lentil and Bulgur Salad
Serves: 4

1/2 cup Bulgur Wheat, rinsed
2 tbsp olive oil
1 shallot, chopped
1/2 cup Yellow, or Golden, Lentils
2 cups water
1/4 cup loosely packed flat leaf parsley, roughly chopped
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar (preferably sweet)
Salt and Pepper to taste
Suggested for serving: two cups baby arugula, olive oil for d, grilled quartered lemons and chopped cured olives

1. Add olive oil to saucepan over medium heat. Add shallot and cook until softened, stirring frequently (about 3-4 minutes). Add Bulgur, a sprinkle of salt, and cook over medium-high heat, stirring constantly, until lightly browned (about 5-6 minutes)
2. Meanwhile, rinse lentils and add with 1 cup water to a small saucepan. Cover and cook until tender, about 5-10 minutes.
3. When Bulgur is toasted, add 1 cup water and simmer until Bulgur is al dente (about 15 minutes, depending on the size of the Bulgur). Add 3 tbsp balsamic and continue cooking until Bulgur is tender and the balsamic is absorbed*. Stir in parsley, remaining 1 tbsp balsamic, and salt and pepper to taste.
4. Stir yellow lentils and Bulgur together. Serve warm, drizzled with extra olive oil, next to fresh baby arugula, chopped olives and grilled lemon quarters.

*If the cooking times don't add up right, just add a little extra water and continue cooking until the Bulgur is done