100 Degrees before the Fog

It felt wrong to do what I was doing, Simmering a pot on the stove whilst one baked away in the oven. It was nearly 100 degrees outside. Unspeakable heat, especially for these parts. What was I thinking?

And then came the fog. The temperature dropped faster than seemed possible. Suddenly, it was downright cold. Hmph, I knew what I was doing (after all).

Polenta is one of those things, I love it, but I don't make it often, though it's easy enough; I don't have an excuse, really. It is so comforting and warms me to the core. And having been treated to fresh pasta and Bolognese sauce during a recent lunch, I was still hungry for it; a perfect accompaniment for my polenta, I figured.

This slow-cooking fare is perfect to prepare when your space needs some warmth from the kitchen. And while it may be fit for a different time of year, I'm sure for someone, somewhere, it's just the thing.

As much as I love to cook, I don't do it every day, and when I do, I often prepare enough to get me through to the next opportunity. That being said, these recipe portions are large though well suited to paring down. For the polenta, use whatever grind suits your taste, from fine to coarse; I used regular old cornmeal. I happened to have egg yolks in the fridge, so I threw them in, but they're certainly not necessary to the success of the dish, it simply adds richness.

Basic Polenta

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
½ yellow onion, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, chopped
4 cups chicken broth
2 cups yellow cornmeal or polenta
4 egg yolks, room temperature (optional)
½ lb Parmigiano Reggiano finely shredded, ½ cup reserved
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 325°

1. In a Dutch oven (with a lid), sweat the onions and garlic in oil; do not allow any browning.

2. Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil.

3. While whisking constantly, pour the cornmeal in a thin stream into the pot. Once the cornmeal is fully incorporated, the mixture will begin to bubble vigorously and can be dangerous, so use caution. Cover the pot, and place in the oven for 1 hour. Stir the mixture about every twenty minutes during baking.

4. Remove the polenta from the oven and whisk in the Parmigiano Reggiano and egg yolks (if using). Season with salt and pepper to taste after the cheese has been added to ensure proper seasoning.

5. Serve immediately (garnished with more fresh grated cheese) as a side dish or on its own with a simple tomato sauce.

Hearty Meat Sauce

2 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
1 lb ground bison (or whatever you prefer)
½ yellow onion, finely diced
2 medium carrots, finely diced
2 celery ribs, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, chopped
4 cups beef broth, low sodium (or homemade)
29 oz can tomato puree
Flat leaf parsley, finely chopped (optional)
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste

1. Heat a large heavy-bottomed pot over medium-high heat. Add olive oil, onions and carrots and sauté, stirring occasionally, until the vegetables are caramelized and begin to soften. Add celery and garlic and continue to cook until aromatic. Add ground bison and cook, stirring and breaking up the mean as it begins to brown.

2. Once the meat has browned sufficiently, add broth and reduce heat to just above a simmer. Allow liquid to reduce by half.

3. Add tomato puree and reduce heat to a low simmer. Stirring occasionally, cook until the sauce is very thick or has reached the desired consistency.

4. Season with salt and pepper to taste and stir in the chopped parsley. Serve with polenta or a tender, flat pasta.

Just a Bowl of Cherries

Cherries make me smile. I don't know what it is. Their bright colors, their shiny coats; they're just so cheery. And when the first of the season arrive, it all rushes back. I remember sunny picnics, stuffing handfuls of the glossy fruit into my mouth 'til my cheeks burst, biting away the juicy, sweet-tart flesh only then to forcibly hurl the pit through the air, seeing how far I could make it go. (How can you not love a fruit that is celebrated with it's innards spat in contest? Though cherries aren't the only ones: watermelon, pumpkin, olive, umeboshi [pickled plum], peach, persimmon, and probably something else I'm missing, can all claim such reverence.)

And there sat the little bags of cheer, ready to be scooped up and taken home. I wanted to bake with them, something simple and light. I came this close to making clafoutis (it's been all the rage), and may still, but I really wanted cake, and for some crazy reason I wanted it without butter. I came across a recipe that was nearly perfect, it was made with butter, but melted butter at that, so it seemed olive oil would be a flawless substitution. I love olive oil cakes; light and clean with a tender crumb and that second (really, third) piece feels less shameful.

As I have learned not to experiment much with baking, I have also learned what I can play with, so in this case, I did play a bit. As for the oil, use any that suits your taste. I used extra virgin olive oil, and while the batter was strong with its flavor, it became much less apparent in the baked cake. I used 2 x 7.5 inch ceramic tart pans, but a single dish that would result in a shallow cake just the same would work fine, too. If you would prefer a cake fit for presentation out of the pan, a springform works, but you would likely have to increase the baking time. And the cake is even better the next day (more moist).

Cherry Cake
inspired by Joy of Baking

1 pound (454 grams) fresh cherries, pitted
1 ½ cups (210 grams) all purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
¾ cup granulated white sugar
½ cup olive oil (extra virgin or light)
1/3 cup milk
1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Zest and juice of ½ lemon

Preheat oven to 400°. Oil 9 x 13 baking dish.

1. Rinse, dry, and pit all the cherries. (In the absence of a cherry pitter, use a paring knife to cut the cherries in half and pop the pit out with your thumbnail.) Scatter cherries across the bottom of your baking dish.

2. In a small bowl, combine the flour, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

3. Beat the eggs and sugar until thick and lemon colored, approximately 3-5 minutes. Incorporate the oil, milk, vanilla, and lemon juice and zest. Add the flour mixture and stir just until moistened.

4. Pour the batter over the cherries in the baking dish; spread the batter evenly.

5. Bake for 25-30 minutes, or until light golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean.

Serve with fresh whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

My English Muffin Bread Overfloweth

No one told me, so I was late in finding that April is National Grilled Cheese Sandwich Month. I had to act fast. (Must bake English muffin bread.) I must make grilled cheese!

In my fanciful visions of the greatest grilled cheese sandwich on earth, I immediately thought, "English muffin bread." It is so airy and crispy with a little bit of chew. Perfect. But I am weary of store bought (as I haven't sampled a taste of English muffin bread in years) and I hadn't any time for searching the local bakeries for theirs (if they even make it on a regular basis).

So instead, I'd make something I've never made before because that would surely come out better than any store bought option in town (you see where I'm going with this?). I shouldn't be so negative, really. I'll admit, it came out quite nice in texture and flavor, it just didn't toast right, which was disappointing. It browned beautifully slathered with butter in a fry pan, but in the toaster, where the magic should be made, it didn't really do it. While toasting away, I even had to cut away the top crusts before they got any blacker and the apartment got any stinkier (I find the smell of burning bread to be very unpleasant and very potent); at that point the face of the bread had hardly browned.

Most of the loaf went towards grilled cheese sandwich research. The last remaining slices, which begged to be toasted, received a different kind of treatment. In a grilled cheese dessert experiment, I had prepared two butters, one flavored with maple syrup and one with sugar. A swathe of the two flavors on opposite sides of each slice, and toast in a pan. They caramelized beautifully like a perfectly broiled piece of cinnamon toast. Crunchy, buttery, sweet love. This was definitely not an complete failure. Who am I kidding, it was a pretty damn good loaf of bread, despite its shortcomings.

But I will try this again. I found a great recipe, very simple, with just the right kind of helpful technicality. I only wish you could have seen it bake. Apparently, I used a smaller loaf pan than needed and the batter-like bread dough just oozed out and over the top of the pan in the first few minutes of baking. After the panic, and a piece of foil placed strategically on the rack below the baking bread, we had little mini English muffin toasty bits. Big bits. Advanced sneak-peek. Yum.

Cherry Blossom Festival

Cherry blossoms are probably some of the happiest flowers I know. They are so cute, delicate, lovely. And that they are honored with a festival every year, marvelous! (Actually, the cherry blossoms represent Japanese culture and community, the reason for celebration; that's good too.)

So off we go, to celebrate our neighbors and enjoy some street fair food. Thankfully there was not a single turkey leg, giant continuous potato chip, or funnel cake in sight. As I had hoped, fare included udon, Okinawa soba, takoyaki (tako-free, but a line 50 people long awaited them nonetheless), imagawayaki, Spam musubi and...teriyaki burgers, just to name a few.

The day began sunny and beautiful, with crisp in the air. So the udon hit the spot: hot, steamy, and warming. Yummy and wholesome, complete with tofu skin and colorful fish cake. I didn't have it in me to wait in line for the takoyaki, but there's always next time (we'll get there sooner - 1 hour into the game was clearly not enough).

We passed the time with an indoor display of bonsai, something I love deeply but with which have never had success. Such beautiful specimens, some over 80 years old. It was nearing time for the grand

parade. And as we set foot outdoors, there came chilling, propelling winds. Quite uncomfortable, really. Hurry, parade.

I ached for the steadfast players, some of them couldn't hold back their grimaces, while many smiled right through. Ahhh, cherry blossoms.

Spring is Springing

There is this fantastic market nearby my workplace; and when I go, it inspires me to cook. (I wonder why I don't go more often.) More than half the store is produce, all kinds, colors, shapes, and sizes. Truly a wondrous place. On this particular trip, I chose all things green: favas, snap peas and spring garlic. Well, I did buy something red actually, strawberries for dessert (frozen yogurt, perhaps).

Now what to do, what to do. I first thought rice. A bit of nutty brown rice to go with my green vegetables. That takes too long. I'm hungry now. Fresh pasta would be perfect! I'm sorry, did I mention I was hungry?

Acini de pepe it is. Italian for peppercorns, they resemble just that; chewy little beads of pasta. I wanted the pasta to have a flavor of its own, so cooked it in as little chicken stock as possible, adding more stock bit by bit until perfectly al dente. As the pasta bubbled away, I sliced thin rings of spring garlic and crosscut the peas (prepped the favas the night before). Into the warm pasta they go; add a pat of butter, salt and pepper, and stir briskly until the butter has just melted.

Fresh grated Parmigiano over the top, and you've got a bowl of buttered sunshine.

Blog Fluff

Take a sunny day in San Francisco. Add fresh baked bread (Thanks, hon!), delicious roasted chicken from Kensington Fine Foods (Thanks, Larry!), olive tapenade and the fixins. Mmmm. Seriously.

...and IT was born...

I hate to say it, you know I do, but there's more to life than cheese. (Gasp!)

So this is where I'll put everything else.

But don't expect me to stray from food altogether, because there's little more to life than that.

Oh, and I like to take pictures.

Love, Me.