Wordless Wednesday: Signs of Summer

Memorial Day BBQ

There's nothing I love more than lounging in bed going through photos and video clips the morning after a really great party. My eye makeup is more than a little smeared, the sink is overflowing with baking pans and mixing bowls, and it's STILL raining outside, but I can cocoon into my comforters and pillows and scroll through hundred of pictures of my friends faces, relive the good food, and hear again the laughter and jokes of the night's misadventures. With Gillian Welch singing to me from the record player, and my socked toes all comfy under layers of cool cotton, I've spent a few blissful hours cropping, rotating, and sharpening these memories...

We had amazing weather for one of Portland's favorite holidays - the Rose Festival was lightly toasted by warm sunshine and high clouds, the river looked beautiful as I crossed over to the east side, and our humble little BBQ in the big, beautiful orange house known as Crib Largo went off without a hitch. I was in an extra-fantastic mood because I just got a new job (!!!) and a summery white dress, two factors I'm relatively sure had a direct impact on the good weather... We even played a little frisbee in the intersection, yelling "CAR!" (or, just as often, "BIKE!") and skittering to the side of the road to let passersby pass by. Chess games were played, Jim Beam and Icelandic Schnaps were sipped and shot, and somehow most everyone ended up in random articles of womens clothing...



Anyway, the food. Oh, the food. The boys got started on the brisket pretty early, smoked it to perfection. Honestly, it was the best meat we'd ever had at a Family Dinner^® gathering (aside from Travis' Dancing Ladies Chicken, of course...). Meatmaster Jesse made the rub from the scrappy spice collection of the Largo kitchen, set up the Weber for success, and painstakingly monitored the smoke levels over the course of a few hours. Damn, that was good brisket. We also had a huge pile of variously-flavored sausages, grilled veggies, roasted kale, confusingly good pickles, Sweet Tea, watermelon (both in cocktail and analog form) and my contribution, strawberry shortcakes and strawberry thumbprint cookies. In the past four days, I've eaten at Kenny & Zukes, Hash, Foster Burger, and Tastebud... but the dinner we had last night topped them all.



Rereading that last paragraph, I just realized I ate a LOT OF FOOD this weekend. Which is likely why I'm drinking tea and eating cucumbers while digitally thumbing through my photo uploads. A girl needs balance. A girl also needs great friends, and this girl has them, and how. Summer may still be a few weeks off in this crazy town, but I can already tell it's going to be a good one.

Eat well.












Strawberry Shortbread Thumbprint Cookies
adapted from Ina Garten's Barefoot Contessa Family Style, 2002

• 3/4 pound (3 sticks) unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 1 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
• 3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt (Or more, if you want. I always up the kosher salt in cookies... it's kind of my thing...)
  
• Good Strawberry Jam
  

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

In an electric mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream together the butter and sugar until they are just combined and then add the vanilla. Separately, sift together the flour and salt. With the mixer on low speed, add the flour mixture to the creamed butter and sugar. Mix until the dough starts to come together. Dump on a floured board and roll together into a flat disk. Wrap in plastic and chill for 30 minutes.

Roll the dough into 1 1/4-inch balls. Place the balls on a parchment-lined cookie sheet and press an indentation into the top of each with your finger. Drop 1 teaspoon of jam into each indentation. Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until lightly golden. Cool and serve.

Wordless Wednesday: Mountain Morning

Classic Strawberry Cream Pie

A few days ago I came home to a kitchen table overflowing with pints of strawberries, filling the house with their ripe perfume. My first emotion was a hit of sadness, as I'm missing some of the best weeks of Portland's own strawberry season while I'm down here in Los Angeles, but my second emotion could only be described as OH-YES-ITS-PIE-TIME!



After a brief Tastespotting search, I came across a recipe for a classic Strawberry Cream Pie from the Better Homes & Gardens Dessert Cook Book, published in 1960, the age of REAL DESSERTS, and after a few modifications (like replacing some of the whipped cream with sour cream for a cheescakier flavor), I had a really gorgeous pie that showcased the berries in all of their glory.

This was the dessert of my "Last Supper" before getting my wisdom teeth out yesterday, and it was a perfect accompaniment to big, meaty beef ribs with my dad's improvised BBQ sauce (think crushed pineapple, beet juice, chipotle hot sauce, red onions, garlic, tomato sauce, molasses, honey, mustard, apple cider vinegar, and grilled pickled jalapenos), crunchy coleslaw with my secret creamy dressing, and grilled ratatouille with lots of fresh basil.

By contrast, the past two days have been filled with frozen yogurt, mashed potatoes, and tomato basil soup, which, let me tell you, is going to get old real fast. I keep having daydreams of Screen Door fried chicken, toasted Kettlemans bagels, crispy cucumbers, and, well, anything not mushy. At least I can still write about/read about/watch movies about food. Yes, at least there's that. Eat crunchy things for me!

Classic Strawberry Cream Pie
Adapted from Laura Flowers and Better Homes & Gardens Dessert Cook Book, published 1960.

1 9-inch pie crust (I use the 'Foolproof Pie Dough' from Cooks' Illustrated)
1 recipe cream filling (below)
3 cups fresh strawberries
½ cup water
¼ cup sugar
2 teaspoons cornstarch

Pre-bake pie crust using pie weights or dried beans. Let cool. Fill with chilled Cream Filling. Quarter two and a half cups of the strawberries, place in large bowl. Crush remaining half cup berries (I used a potato masher); add water; cook 2 minutes. Mix sugar and cornstarch: gradually stir into berry sauce. Cook over low heat, and stir until thick. Cool slightly; pour over bowl of quartered strawberries, mix well. Arrange over cream filling. Keep refrigerated until served.

Cream Filling

½ cup sugar
3 tablespoons cornstarch
3 tablespoons enriched flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 cups heavy cream
1 slightly beaten egg
½ cup sour cream

Mix first 4 ingredients. Gradually stir in cream. Stirring constantly, bring to a boil; reduce heat and stir until thick. Stir a little of the hot mixture into egg; return to remaining hot mixture. Bring just to boiling, stirring constantly. Cool, then chill. Beat well; fold in sour cream. (I'd let this cool for a few hours, at least, maybe even overnight before piling the strawberries on top. That gives it more of a cheesecake-y texture that is really amazing)

Catering a Teenaged Fiesta

My little sister called me up a few weeks ago and asked if I'd cater her high school yearbook staff party. I thought, sure, why not - 35 kids, mexican-ish food for a bunch of Southern Californians, unsurpassed access to inexpensive, fresh, "seasonal" produce. Tomatoes, avocados, and citrus in May? Almost enough to make me think twice about swearing I'll never move back to the Southwest. Almost.





Some of my ingredients were incredibly local - the lemons were from my parents' back yard, and most everything else from the local ethnic stores, Middle Eastern markets and latino supermercados catering the diverse population of Los Angeles. That's not to say these kids were necessarily discerning foodies - I provided both lime crema and plain ol' sour cream, cotija and cheddar, pork chili verde and grilled chicken, fresh pico de gallo and salsa from the jar, shredded iceberg lettuce and pickled jalepenos.

Plenty of goods for the vegetarians - my trademark butternut squash and corn enchiladas, yummy black beans and spicy Spanish rice. For desert, pan dulces, cherries, berries, and watermelon. My little sister even mixed up some mock-margaritas, while parents and I sipped on not-so-mock cocktails in order to drown out the shouting of thirty seventeen-year-olds playing Apples to Apples.









No, the food wasn't super authentic, but everyone had fun, my dad got to man the grill, and I got to munch on a few hard-edged tortilla chips before getting my wisdom teeth out this morning (by the by - OUCH. This blog post brought to you by Vicodin and puffy cheeks full of gauze and bruises). A few more days and I'll be good as new, back in the City of Roses. Hopefully, by then, the rain will have subsided and we can get into that lovely Portland Summer that recharges our batteries. I hope my tomato plants have survived my absence!

Eat well, friends.

Inside-Out Carrot Cake Cookies

I have a habit of sneaking root vegetables and other clandestine, healthy foods into my baked goods, including beet brownies and a zucchini chocolate cake that once prompted my friend Calvin to exclaim, "We may be BFF forever, but I will never let you molest my desserts with vegetables."

I think even Calvin would like these cookies, seeing as carrots have somehow passed the cultural acceptability test. Why is that? What makes a carrot any less of an "un-dessert" food than a beet, or a new potato, or beans?



Since the middle ages, whenever sugar was expensive or hard to come by, certain fruits and vegetables were used to add sweetness to puddings and baked goods. Carrots (and sugar beets, I might add) have a very high sugar content and were able to add that extra something to cakes and sweets. The popularity of carrot cake peaked in the Second World War, due to sugar rationing, and by the 1970's, there was no looking back. Those little iced orange and green carrots on top of a thick layer of cream cheese frosting became a staple in bakeries, cafeterias, and American kitchens. I asked for a carrot cake year after year for my birthday as a kid, and I still love the textures and colors of the old favorite, though I'm now more inclined to favor the natural orange (or other heirloom colors) over the artificial neon colors of yesteryear.



Though we now combine carrots with the sugar they were intended to replace, it's hard not to feel a little virtuous when you pour in a cup of grated, raw carrots to a bowl of cookie dough. This take on carrot cake is a really fun, portable way to bring individual, hand-held desserts to a BBQ. I incorporated more spices and mixed carrots directly into the frosting, which gives great color and texture to the sandwich filling. If it feels a little decadent to eat two cookies at once, slathered with icing, just think of it as a small portion of cake. But don't argue with yourself too much over the merits or demerits of the inside-out carrot cake cookie, or they'll disappear before you make up your mind.

Eat well!

Inside-Out Carrot Cake Cookies with Carrot Cream Cheese Frosting
Adapted from Gourmet, April 2004

Ingredients

1 1/8 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon cloves
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1 stick (1/2 cup) unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons packed dark brown sugar
1/3 cup plus 2 tablespoons granulated sugar
1 large egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups coarsely grated carrots, divided
1 cup pecans, chopped
1/2 cup dried cranberries
8 ounces cream cheese
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup powdered sugar or 1/4 cup honey

Preparation

Put oven racks in upper and lower thirds of oven and preheat oven to 375°F. Grease 2 baking sheets or line with parchment paper (these can get sticky, I recommend the parchment).

Whisk together flour, spices, baking soda, and salt in a bowl.

Beat together butter, sugars, egg, and vanilla in a bowl with an electric mixer at medium speed until pale and fluffy, about 2 minutes. Mix in 1 cup of the carrots carrots, all of the pecans and cranberries at low speed, then add flour mixture and beat until just combined.

Drop 1 1/2 tablespoons batter per cookie 2 inches apart on baking sheets and bake, switching position of sheets halfway through baking, until cookies are lightly browned and springy to the touch, 12 to 16 minutes total. Cool cookies on sheets on racks 1 minute, then transfer cookies to racks to cool completely.

While cookies are baking, blend cream cheese, butter, and sugar (or honey) in a food processor until smooth. Add the other cup of grated carrots to frosting, mix well.

Sandwich flat sides of cookies together with a generous tablespoon of cream cheese filling in between.

Enjoy!