Stupid Raccoon: Earl Grey & Kumquat Marmalade

-The perfect cure for the busy mind.-

We took down the Christmas tree today, an event that has as much joy as getting your bits waxed. Down came the teddy bear advent calendar I grew up with. The mistletoe - which didn't see nearly enough action - was removed from the foyer. The mantelpiece was de-garlaned. The tree's bobbles and strings were delicately removed and tucked into boxes with a throw-n-go method. The tree itself, a marvelous Martha Stewart fake that could fool even the most scrutinous botanist if not for the lights miraculously growing from its branches, was packed away.

Once stored and shelved for the next eleven months the husband and I went out to the garage for the comfy sack - a large beanbag chair of sorts. It's filled with foam pellets instead of those crappy polyurethane beads that exploded over many a living room in the 80s, and upholstered in a chocolate microsuede cover. Quite fun. Extremely comfortable. I highly recommend it if you want a touch of whimsy in your home.

It was also, apparently, very peed on.

The Cons: Vanilla Bean & Ghost Pepper Kumquat Marmalade

The kitchen is close to done. Not quite, but almost. That's another story, which at the moment I am unable to tell because if I do I'll suffer a conniption fueled from pure rage. So apologies if I need a week or two in order keep my blood inside my head on not spritzed upon my newly painted teal walls.

"And aren't they a beautiful shade of teal?!" is what I howl to the poor Mormon missionaries and UPS delivery men who by bad luck or unfortunate karma are forced to come to my door. Some are smart enough to run before I begin to detail how I installed the Cotton Valley Oak flooring. 

Instead, I'll bitch about something else today. First world problems. Who else has got 'em, right? How terrible it is that I am spending the Pride weekend in my brand new house putting together brand new Ikea furniture? How I suffer eating in my new dining room. What is that, husband? You picked up the wrong wine for the roast chicken with apricots? We can't drink Chardonnay! WHAT ARE WE, SAVAGES?!

So it hasn't been that bad, but let's talk fruit trees again. I know I was overjoyed at the prospect of now having them and how I was going to plant more, but I have quickly familiarized myself with the "con" side of the list.

Allow me to elaborate a few of these items:

VG Kitchen Remodel: Edibles Abound

-Bing! You have cherries.-

Did you know that a furnace costs about $3000? I do now. For that kind of money you think I could at least get it in a nifty color like ochre or maybe zebra print. But nope, it had to be replaced because the replacement guy was all, "Well, it has to stay disconnected so that means no air conditioning and if you plug it in you risk blowing the place up," etcetera and so on.

I tell ya', it's this kind of things that force feeds me three big helpings of flaming bitch and puts me in such a mood that even Satan won't screw with me.

So yeah, there goes some of my flooring budget. Not sure how I'm going to work that out anymore, goddamnit. This is nothing to say of the surprise duct work that needs to happen and the discovery of the totally broken under the seal guest room window. (We'll be buying cheapest vinyl window I can find. It will be made of old The Monkees records.)

Remodeling is stressful. So much I just don't have the energy to rant about it, which greatly reduces the amount of f-bombs the Internet has to Iron Dome itself from.

But let's talk about some of the positives I have discovered. Most of it edible.

Escrow: Vermouth Cocktail with Grapefruit

-The cure to pre-home ownership woes. Also, my current loan company people are pretty awesome. I just need to vent so bear with me here.-

Congratulations! You are in escrow! The home of your dreams is soon to be yours! What? It's a HUD owned home? No worries, this won't be too much different from a regular escrow.

Confused about what to do first? Follow this handy step-by-step guide!

1. Collect all the information your loan company needs to move forward with escrow. This includes a government-issued ID, a month's worth of pay stubs, a credit report, and information on any major loans you currently owe on.

2. Oh, you already gave them that? Hmm, something must have been lost in the mix. Well, just re-email the electronic copies you made. Or fax the hard copies you have again. No worries!

3. Time to get your inspections done. This means that some people will come out and make sure your home is in working order. This is kind of pricey, about $500 to get the roof, pest, and general inspections done. However, this will save money in the long run if they find major problems.

4. Write out another check to the appraisal guy who will tell you what your house is worth and what needs to be addressed in order to receive your loan.

5. There's nothing majorly wrong with the home aside from a few tiny fixes that need to be addressed. Huzzah! You got the appraisal back, too! The house is worth more than what you will pay for it. Double huzzah! You just have to fix a small leak in the kitchen, too. No biggie, right?

Mugged: White Chocolate and Marmalade Cake

-White chocolate doesn't care what you think of it. White chocolate just kinda with it like that.-

I was already having a spectacularly craptastic day at this point.

To start things off I had lost the key to my personal safe and I needed to access some of the contents inside - in particular, my social security card - in order to apply for a job.  I made my way to the closest locksmith dragging this eighty-pound, fireproof, steel behemoth along with me and when I got to the front door the locksmith had flipped his "Closed" sign. I pleaded and pressed my face against the glass weeping for help. Alas, he told me to come back tomorrow.

I crawled back to the car, defeated, called the Human Resources manager and told her I would have my card for her the next day. I then bowed my head on the steering wheel and prayed that no Windex would ever wipe my ghostly face print off the glass of the locksmith's front door and that it would haunt the locksmith mercilessly and remind him perhaps of a wasted youth gone by and hopes scattered like leaves before a hurricane. 

NOT THAT I'M BITTER OR ANYTHING.

Careers: Orange and Poppy Seed Pancakes

-Is pancake maker a legitimate career choice? It should be if it isn't.-

When I was a child I knew that I was going to grow up to be a world famous brain surgeon. Or Cyclops from the X-Men. I considered both to be exceptional career paths. Regardless, it was plain to say that my aspirations were loftier than the attic in my mother’s house.

With time my ambitions changed. I had the grades, handgun accuracy (thank you afternoons at the range with dad), and language skills to become an FBI officer and so for a while I dallied with that idea with a small nod of inspiration from the morose and comely David Duchovny. However, a realization that putting me in a place where I could legally start knocking mothef***ers out probably wouldn’t benefit anyone, least of all myself.

The brain surgeon idea persisted through all of middle school and the early years of high school. I enjoyed human anatomy and the concept of medicine, but my heart didn’t seem in it. This stemmed in whole from the fact that while I was fine looking at the pulsing meats of a human being, the fact that a broken nail or wiggling baby tooth icked me out seemed a portend eventual problems in the surgical field.

In the end that dream, like my dream of shooting concussive blasts of energy from my eyes in order to protect humanity, was put aside.

-With my penchant for clumsiness it was probably for the best. (Both in regards to medicine and concussive eye beams.)-

Instead, I found myself rather engrossed in marine biology. I took a special class in high school on the subject that culminated in week long trip aboard a research ship off the coast of Catalina. I was fascinated by the inner working of starfish and read up on how book gills functioned. I was engrossed by the biolumiscent organisms that sparked in the toilet when you flushed it on the ship (it flushed with local saltwater) and perused the ship’s library for more information on the chemical processes that made it happen.

Eventually, I dragged my mom with me to a scuba class where we were both, after some tribulation due to some asshole having a panic attack 40 feet underwater during my scuba final and ripping off both breathing regulators from my air tank (and this only an hour after someone stole my wetsuit and left me wearing one three sizes too small), certified. My mom used new talents of ours both as a means of adventure for herself and as a way to encourage me to pursue a possible career. Of course, entrenching yourself in the center of a 60-foot tall funnel of swirling purple fish off the coast of Nevis certainly possess a rather memorable aesthetic of its own.

I began to apply to colleges under a double major of Marine Biology and Genetics. While U.C. Santa Barbara, my first choice due to it’s Marine program, turned me down. U.C. Davis with it’s rather world renowned genetics laboratory, did. With time I began to lean more towards genetics.

I blame an instance where I was meeting with a professor who let me use an electron microscope to look at a strand of recombinant salmon DNA in its raw form. Let me tell you, actually looking at the raw structure of life, the very various chemical bonds and the elements that make them strung together by such primordial but world-making forces that can’t be seen by the unaided eye, well, it has an impact on you.

Feedback. Reprieve.: Citrus Salad with Navel Orange Cubes

-An intriguingly molecular change of pace.-

Staring at a computer screen for 15 hours sucks.

It wasn't a straight 15 hours, thank heavens, as I'm afraid such a feat can be braved only by the truest of IT techs and World of Warcraft gamers and I am not a man of such mouse-clicking mettle; but rather 15 hours within a 30 hour time frame. Stephanie and I did take the occasional break to drink water, pee, or eat something that wasn’t 99% composed of carbs and dairy.

During the recent three day weekend we had rallied ourselves as key-striking soldiers for our most recent literary campaign. An editorial scorched earth policy where we would finally – Finally! – go through in hand-stitched detail all of the recipe feedback forms that had been pouring in from our testers for the cookbook.

Allow me, first, to provide some statistics to ease in comprehension of this task:

• 72 testers from eight countries, and nearly all 50 states
• 53 completed and approved recipes
• 3 testers per recipe, sometime more

Essentially, 160+ pieces of feedback to sift through.

-Let's get ready to sit down and work at the computer!-

Careful as a surgeon we read through each form as they trickled in over the past few months. Now we were going back and re-doing, re-testing, tinkering, or totally scrapping some recipes as testers wove stories of glowing dishes that wowed their friends, belabored the stresses of unclear or rather quirky instructions that left them in stupefied state, and hearing about the joyful discovery of new cheeses and/or the depressing inability to uncover them. Yet, to go over the whole of them again in one fell swoop for editing purposes was… daunting.

Like scaling a mirror-surface mountainside daunting.

More than once we attempted to forcefully distract ourselves with web cartoons or by teasing Rocky, Stephanie’s Aslan-looking cat with a Cowardly Lion demeanor. Yet, when one of us began to waver the other would rap the other on the knuckles like sister of the cloth-come-teacher and sit him or her back down in front of the computer because the work must be done.

-"Oh God, I'm so scared of everything!"-

The only real work breaks were, well, other kinds of work.

Scavenging: Lemon Curd and Lemon-Ginger Scones

-Say what you want about scavenging for food. The results speak for themselves.-

It was called buzzarding for two reasons. The first and main reason was because of the obvious comparison to buzzards and their scavenging ways; how people would circle trays of food in a constantly tightening the gyre until they descended upon them and picked at whatever meat and bones were left. The second was because they would be buzzing all over the school like cracked-out crazy people trying to find a free meal.

The second was apt enough but it was the first that made the term so humorously endearing, so identifiable, and heaped onto you a feeling that you really were some sort of unclean beggar hiding in the shadows and waiting for the best opportunity to take, or, in some cases, outright steal.

Anyone who has gone to college can identify with buzzarding. Others call it freeganism, while some may simply call it scavenging, but all students have done it. As a student constantly expending energy through studying, Frisbee football tournaments, dating dramas, classes, all night parties and the inevitable mornings after that are first defined by the phrase “I am so hung over,” only to immediately be followed by, “God, I am so hungry,” food is a constant need at all hours of the day.

I don't think any student ever intends to debase themselves to hunting for food like a starved hyena. It goes against the notion that you're one of the educated elite that has to show it through dignified words and actions. However, when you're damn near poor and living off student loans and ramen then you learn to be okay with swallowing your pride for some free eats.

-Fresh Meyer lemons picked fresh from the Break Room.-

Regardless of the reasons why, buzzarding is a habit all college students must learn. If change cannot be found under the couch for a run to In-&-Out then buzzarding kicks into overdrive and the famished 20-something must put aside ego and hunt for food. It’s natural instinct.

Instinct or not, though, skills can be developed in order to hone the hunt for food. In college my roommates and I constantly kept on the lookout for flyers anoouncing events where food would be offered and we eagerly awaited various campus events where a buffet would be present. I snuck into club meetings that I was not a member of (the list of clubs I crashed is extensive ranging from the Communist Club, the Future Farmers, and far too many emo poetry readings with the Poetry Club who always had amazing mochas freshly made by one of its members that brought an espresso machine to meetings). I even made friends with plenty freshmen who could get me into the Dining Commons for free.

Encouraged by a friend, I was even an active volunteer for the Jewish community center. I wish my motives were wholly altruistic but damn it if these people didn’t know how to make a mean maror. I stayed on and assisted when I could knowing there was the promise of bagels and, sometimes, fresh challah. I eventually stopped volunteering, though, through a combination of guilt brought upon by a Lutheran upbringing and accidentally interrupting the prayer at Shabbat dinner by trying to quietly inhale a broiling hot latke without anyone noticing only to horribly and audibly burn my mouth.

I had other methods of feeding myself. I hoarded, God, I hoarded. Stocking my mini-fridge with filched food was like playing a game of Tetris every time I opened it.

-While tasty on toast and scones I find lemon curd to be just as amazing on waffles, pancakes, ice cream, and even on the side to some leftover grilled chicken from the fridge.-

Lastly, since Davis is an agricultural town with a plenty of middle-to-upper class suburbs, there are plenty of fruit trees to raid if you know where to look. The first time that my roommate came home with a pillowcase filled with tangerines I chastised him for taking someone else's fruit. He argued that the tree was in the front yard and he only took what he knew were tangerines that had been sitting on the ground for the past few days. I checked the tree the next few days and, sure enough, plenty of fruit did drop and the owners never picked it up, let alone picked the fruit from the tree. The next week I went with him pillowcase in hand.

These days when I hear tales from my friends about how strangers are constantly swiping their fruit I gasp and chide these criminals with a wave of my finger as if they were in the room with us. (I am a hypocrite. I know that and I’m fine with it in regards to this issue. I stole from neglectful strangers. These people are stealing from friends who furtively pick the fruit on their trees with the intention to eat every single one. This is what I tell myself.)

-Scones are just so easy to make. I wonder why I don't make them more often?-

Of course, after college and having become a food writer one would think that I would have left these habits behind like the scratched up card table I ditched in my first post-college apartment. Sadly, this isn't the case. I still scavenge for food wherever I can find it. I don't think it will ever matter just how well-fed or well-off I am or become because if there are snacks nearby, be they in the form of veggie plate or candy bowl, I plan to slam down on it like the hand of God.

These habits aren't privy just to college students. If you've ever worked in an office environment you know what I mean. Leftover doughnuts from a meeting? No need to announce it over the loudspeaker. Your co-workers know. They can smell free food in the air the way a shark can smell a single drop of blood from a mile away. All you have to do is put them in the Break Room and back away before the wolves decend upon it. Be quick about it too, or you'll lose a finger.

-If I knew in college what I know now. Not just about food but other stuff, too. I know I would have skipped a lot of bad dates.-

This is just as true at my new job back in the non-profit world. I brought my new co-workers some cupcakes (from Esther's, naturally), a sort of "Thanks for welcoming me" gift, and before I could blink all that was left were crumbs and torn up cupcake papers - a practical baked goods Blitzkrieg.

Don't worry though. I showed them.

At the end of my third day, I found an entire sack of Meyer lemons. Written on a piece of paper taped to the wall next to them was a note, "From the tree. Please take." So I did.

To justify my actions let me explain that after an entire day the sack was still nearly full. Most people, it seemed, didn't know what to do with almost ten pounds of lemons.

Amateurs. I made that bag of lemons my bitch.

-Regular lemons or even limes would be just as delightful in these recipes.-

Much of it went to pitcher after pitcher of lemonade. The rest of the juice and zest was quickly prepped and tossed into containers in the freezer for future baking projects. I've also been promised even more lemons, so you can anticipate that many cans of vanilla bean and Meyer lemon marmalade is in my future.

However, what I was feeling like that night I got home - what I was really craving - was lemon curd. Really sour, creamy, lemon curd with enough spark to start a car. And, perhaps, some lemon scones to smear it on. Yes, lemon on lemon. The best kind of lemon treat. Even better? Totally a valid breakfast option even though, and let's all just admit this to ourselves, they're totally dessert.

I realize the only difference between by buzzarding then and my buzzarding now is that I know how to better utilize my pickings. Years ago I would have just tossed produce that went old and uneaten. Now it gets poached, baked, stir-fried, canned, and churned into ice cream.

I'm a smart and proud scavenger these days and the results prove it.


Lemon-Ginger Scones
Adapted from Molly Weizenburg's A Homemade Life

2 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes
4 tablespoons sugar
2 teaspoons grated lemon zest
1/4 cup chopped crystalized ginger
1/2 cup half-and-half, plus more for glazing
1 egg
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1. Preheat oven to 425F. In a large bowl sift together the flour, baking powder and salt. Using your hands, rub the butter into the flour mixture until it looks like coarse meal. Add the sugar, lemon zest, and ginger and whisk to incorporate.

2. Stir together the half-and-half, vanilla extract, and egg in a bowl. Add to flour mixture and stir gently to combine. The dough will be shaggy and sticky. Using your hands squeeze the dough together into a rough mass. Turn out onto lightly floured countertop and knead a few times just to bring it together. As soon as the dough holds pat it into a circle and cut into wedges.

3. Place wedges onto parchment lined baking sheet. Brush with extra half-and-half. Bake for 10-14 minutes, or until pale golden. Cool on wire rack and serve warm or at room temperature. Store in an air tight container for up to four days.

Lemon Curd
Adapted from Cindy Mushet's The Art & Soul of Baking

3 large eggs
3 large egg yolks
1 cup sugar
3/4 cup lemon juice
6 tablespoons cold, unsalted butter, cut into 1/2-inch cubes

1. Fill a large bowl halfway up with ice water. Place a strainer over another bowl set it aside. Fill the bottom of a double-boiler with at least 2 inches of water. The water should not touch the top part of the double-boiler. (You can do a makeshift double-boiler by using a pot and a metal mixing bowl.) Bring to a rolling boil.

2. In the metal bowl or top part of the double boiler whisk together the eggs, egg yolks, and sugar until well blended. Add the lemon juice and stir together. Place bowl over the boiling water and cook, stirring constantly, but leisurely, for 7-10 minutes being sure to scrape the bottom and sides frequently to prevent the eggs from scrambling. When the curd is thick and holds its shape (you should be able to lift the whisk and when the curd falls back down it should remain distinct on the surface) take it off the heat.

3. Immediately pour the curd through the strainer and into the bowl under it to catch all the bits of scrambled egg (there is always some). Add the butter to the curd and let sit for a minute to melt before stirring it in. Press plastic wrap onto the surface of the curd to prevent a skin from forming. Place the bowl of curd into the bowl of ice water. Once curd has completely cooled, use or store in the refrigerator until needed for up to a week.

Something Different: Pairing Blood Oranges and Cheese

-I apologize but licking your screen will not stop the cravings. Please stop doing that.-

It had sat there, almost begrudgingly, in its small plastic container for nearly three weeks which is almost 3 years in cheese years. It had been the only survivor from a small Christmas brunch and while I had meant to attend to it the poor cheese always seem to bear the brunt of my schedule and timing. So now it sat in the corner hidden slightly behind the carton of 2% milk. It was so far back it even peeked over the jar of preserved walnuts, which is a sure sign of neglect in my fridge.

I hadn't necessarily meant for this to happen to the cheese. Just like many of my friends who I never seem to make enough time for it just never to seem to properly fit into my dinner plans or social schedule (or lack thereof). The tiny nub wasn't enough to throw into a pot of macaroni and cheese and by the time I finished cleaning the dishes from the leek gratin is when inspiration for a gratin with blue cheese struck an hour too late. Oh, and it would have been perfect in that wheat berry salad with dried apricots, but I was making it for eight people. What I would give for culinary powers of Jesus to feed the masses on mere crumbs, or to, at least, be able to spread this humble chunk of cheese a little thinner.

It happens all the time though, neglecting food. You might think it difficult for BF and me. Our weekly shopping budget is about $22 a week not including the occasional dry and canned goods run. We spend it smartly at the Farmers' Market picking up produce, eggs, and bread. We often come home with plenty of food, yet, more often than not we can't seem to eat it all.

We cook every day being sure to make plenty for leftovers for lunch the next day. We have friends over for meals, and I usually end up feeding Roommate and his BF should they be here. The occasional impromptu dinner party seems to occur every so often as well, which allows me to revel in the comfort and friends and whip up a last minute dessert that thankfully uses up some more of that fruit we bring home or are constantly gifted by friends with trees.

Yet, we have so much left over somehow. Greens go as limp as dozy cats, their rigid fibers sapped of all strength and left with the tactile texture of slightly damp silk. Carrots lose their backbone and bend to anyone's will. And celery? Well, its snappy personality becomes sickly. More than once has the bread gone moldy to the point that it looks like a mighty fine cheese as opposed to a hearty sourdough. Milk goes chunky and buttermilk goes rancid (yes, it is possible).

-Blue cheese and blood oranges... who would have thought?-

Still, this cheese had seemed to live. I pulled it out and inspected it through the foggy plastic. No growth, well, none unwanted at least. Blue cheese grows more distinct with age as the flavors ripen and the culture spreads and intensifies. However, fuzzy or oddly colored blue cheese is a sure sign of spoilage. Strangely enough a month in the back of the fridge produced no obvious visual discouragement.

I popped the top and expected a wave of rotten odor to wash over me smelling like a middle school gym locker room and the poor choices you made in it. Instead, the smell was pert and alive with the scent of wet hay, nettles, and cream. It was reminiscent of a rainy day on a dairy farm whose buildings are crept over dust and clover.

This blue cheese, a Fourme d'Ambert, one of France's oldest cheeses (made as far back as the rule of the Roman Empire) and AOC protected, is a classic end-of-the-meal blue often eaten with dessert wines such as a sweet Sauternes.

When it had first arrived for the brunch weeks ago it was still young. Age had given it body and character. Overall, it was creamy and slightly nutty with a salty twang that vibrated through your tongue as if someone had plucked a string on a guitar. This cheese was vibrant and strong.

As amazing as it tasted I still wasn't sure what to do with it. Not enough pasta for mac and cheese. Honey seemed too simple. No crackers in sight. Damned if I wasn't out of wine yet again in order to make a good pairing.

-Moro blood oranges are just plain prettier than other oranges.-

Then the fruit bowl filled with dark skinned Moro blood oranges caught my eye. "Citrus and cheese..." I pondered. "That's a thought." I knew that marmalades were a popular option with blue cheeses but I never gave much attention to the idea of pairing fresh citrus with cheese. Generally, I've always believed the whole lactic acid / citric acid combo always leads to an upset stomach, but I figured that there surely wasn't any harm in trying.

I segmented the orange and placed the supremes on a piece of slate with the cheese. A nibble of both and suddenly each revealed its secrets to me. The sweet, burgundy juices from the Moros tempered the salt of the blue, while the blue's cream accentuated the Moro's often underwhelming sourness into something perky and candy-like. I had stumbled onto one of those perfect cheese matchings made in Heaven.

A whole different world of cheese pairings seemed to open up. I ran to the fridge for some goat cheese and smeared some over the tiny wedge of orange. The salt in a creamy goat cheese caprichio polished the sugars in the blood oranges and made them shine and, unlike with the d'Ambert, the citric acid was given the fortitude to cut through the fat in the cheese creating a uniquely different experience.

Invigorated by the rush of new possibilities with these ruby-hued oranges I went to the store in search of a interesting, Brie-ish cheese. I was wholly convinced that the blood oranges and a semi-soft cheese would be absolutely bangin'. However, I wanted to find something not so salty either as a traditional Brie might be.

-Loma Alta cheese is like a firm Brie.-

You see, BF got me some pink Himalayan salt blocks for Christmas. The blocks are carved from boulders of salt quarried in Pakistan and run a number of lovely shades from cherry blossom pink to moody garnet. When food is laid down on the block it cures and picks up a delicate flavor of salt that pronounced and a skosh minerally. Furthermore, in regards to photography, I was convinced that the blood oranges and cream colored cheese would look stunning against the pink stone.

I picked up a wedge of Loma Alta, otherwise known as Black Mountain. Loma Alta is a semi-firm, organic cheese made from cow's milk. It's produced by Nicasio Valley Cheese Company in California. The taste is somewhat like that of an everyday Brie but not as oozy and less salty. It's a buttery cheese that stands up to brusque pairings.

I peeled and sliced a Moro and carefully laid down the slices on the block for about a minute (allowing any wet food to cure on the block for too long is a sure way to ruin your food as it simply absorbs far too much salt). The cheese, which I gathered would cure more slowly, had already been sitting on the salt block for about five minutes.

A slice of salt cured orange was almost enough to make me gag. Thinking to myself that this was a failed experiment I took the oranges to the garbage disposal. I stopped halfway to the kitchen though, "I suppose..." I mumbled to myself before turning around. I popped one of the orange slices in my mouth and winced as the salt assaulted my tongue, as quick as I could I threw a slice of cheese in my mouth and, as if someone had opened the windows to a stuffy room and let the air rush in, there was refreshing calm. The cheese provided balance. The Loma Alta sang with the salt and created a mellow pairing with the orange that was soft and simple. Even the cheese by itself, having cured on the salt block was not longer a simple semi-firm Brie, but now a complex creature full of nuance and rich, fruity flavors.

-Salt: Making everything better since forever.-

It seems that blood oranges had found a place of permanency on my cheese plates from this point on. Anyone I've presented these pairings to seems to agree, especially where the blue cheese is concerned. It was an unexpected discovery to say the least but certainly a pleasant one. The pairings themselves have lead to enticing new recipe ideas. I've now been eating salads composed of blood oranges and roasted beets with a bit of blue cheese or chèvre scattered about the plate for good measure. Hot toast smeared with Brie and topped with marmalade or slices of blood orange and a flurry of kosher salt is an epic appetizer for any meal.

The lesson, if there is one, is to always look around and see what works. If you have any leftover cheese in your fridge explore your pantry and fruit bowl. Open that jar of Nutella, get out the honey, whip out the celery and see just what works. You might be surprised by something different.

-If you cannot find blood oranges then any other good juice orange would be just fine too.-

Impulsive: Candied Pomelo Rind (Pomeloettes)

-Rushed decisions may lead to citrusy results.-

I don't really do impulse. Too many times have impulsive, even rash decisions caused me to suffer the brunt of my own ineptitude or carelessness. A lack of profundity invested in any venture, adventure, or misadventure nearly always comes back to haunt you. Furthermore, the ramifications of such lack of foresight can be long-reaching and severe.

Take, for example, the time I made a on-the-fly decision in college to try ecstasy. I was with a bunch of friends and we had - impulsively, I might add - decided to go out dancing. I slipped into the skinniest pair of jeans I owned back when I was a size 28 waist and threw on a fabulous long sleeve shirt. After a short drive we arrived and quickly downed an extra large bottle of Gatorade and coconut rum in the car (I have a policy against paying $8 for a glass of vodka and pineapple juice).

My friend Anna suddenly produced a small Ziploc bagged filled with five tiny white tablets. Each was engraved with the image of a small bird. "They're called White Doves. They aren't as long lasting as a Pink Cowboy," she said with an assumption that any of us could really tell the difference. "They only go for a few hours. Trust me, though, that this thing will have you rolling all night," explained Anna.

"Oh. Um. Well... why not?" I replied. "You only live once, right?" Honestly, that thought going through my head was the shortest trip ever made in Sacramento. She dropped the tablet in my hand. I placed it on my tongue and washed it down with another chug of the Gatorade-rum cocktail.

Inside the club we began dancing as the speakers pumped out heavy techno remixes of Madonna's 80's singles and colored lights flickered around the room. Considering our surroundings it seemed that it would be near impossible to tell when or if the ecstasy kicked in or not.

-Pomelos, if you aren't aware, are a type of citrus fruit popular in Southeat Asia. It is often used in salads and desserts.-

"So when can you tell if it's doing anything?" I asked Anna as I sipped my drink.

"Oh, you'll know," she replied. I wasn't sure if she had heard me as she seemed hypnotized by a nearby gogo dancer like a cobra watching a charmer's pipe. I let the question drop.

"Oh. Okay. Well, if I start acting weird let me know. And, god, why am I so thirsty? This is like my third pineapple and vodka. Also, it's like a zillion degrees in here."

"You're feeling it."

"What? God, I am loving this music. It's really hot in here. Ooooh, look at that guy. I'm going to go introduce myself. Wait, I have to use the restroom first. Hold my drink."

So began a night of hyper-intense ADD, beyond shameless flirtation, and copious amounts of rough groping with total strangers. It might have been fun. I'm honestly not too sure. I only have flashes of memory from that night.

The next morning I woke up on my couch with a blistering headache like someone had trapped me in porcelain room with the world's loudest freight train before taking that train and repeatedly striking me in the skull with it. My shirt was gone and a note was on the table from Anna that explained that my friends tried to find it at the club but hadn't had any luck. In my pocket were three phone numbers and one more was written on my shoulder in black sharpie that was signed, "Harmit. Call me for another sometime. ;)" which concerned me as I didn't know a Harmit or what the first one he referred to even was.

I spent the rest of the day fighting off dehydration and resting in a quiet room listening to a Project Runway marathon. Harmit's number would remain on my back for the next week and a half. I never did call. It seemed that was an impulse worth ignoring.

Of course, this isn't to say all such jumps aren't without any sort of merit. The risk is sometimes worth the payoff. Like a game at a baccarat table the chance to win big is present and palatable. This may be something small such as taking a back road to work and learning later that your regular freeway trip is blocked for miles due to a shoe in the road (if you drive in California you understand what I'm saying). Other times it might be taking a huge risk in the way decide to present a major project to your peers and find that it paid off.

Still, I'm generally not an impulsive person. I do planning. I am an avid fan of forethought. When it comes to pros and cons of any decision I weigh more things than a scale at Weight Watchers. I carefully consider each situation and major purchase I make. Simply enough, I've regretted more than my fair share of bad decisions and I'm skeptical, even fearful enough, to tread as lightly as possible in order to avoid disaster.

-The major challenge in eating pomelo is getting past the thick rind and tough membranes.-

Another example: Back when I was in boy scout camp as a teenager, I learned to question the impulse to do a back flip off a high dive because landing a full-flat belly flop from twelve feet in the air hurts like crazy and will leave your entire chest swollen and bruised for days.

The reason I followed the impulse to begin with? Well, I had preformed plenty of back flips before and when you do land them it's just so damn awesome. One big flop doesn't prevent me from doing more flips in the future.

I still follow my impulses once in a while and take a jump. I recently bought a nicer than I needed mahjong set in order to finish some of my resolutions for 2011. For me, that's just crazy as any old set would have been just fine if not more frugal.

However, where I am most impulsive is with food. When my stomach is involved there is no filter. No careful consideration. I just say okay and chew.

When I was in Mexico last year with some blogging buddies we took a tour of an outdoor market. As we wandered down stalls of fresh fish, butchers, and piles of heirloom mangoes none of us had ever seen or heard of before we did out best to eat everything we saw. Dozens of vendors were making fresh bread, musky batches of mole, tacos filled with vibrant salsas slathered over mountains of minced fire-grilled tongue, pickled radishes and jalapeños, and dry cured sausages. We ate everything we could and abandoned any warnings of not to eat strange foods in foreign countries. We avoided the water but devoured everything else in sight.

Take me to a dim sum restaurant and nothing is off the table. Steamed tripe, flash-fried chicken feet, congealed blood, dumplings of every kind are just some of my favorites. I'll happily spit out bones and chicken nails onto my plate and reach for the next dish before sloshing it down with another cup of hot tea or soy drink.

-Pomelo juice is perfect for any breakfast.-

So it is at the farmers' market. I shop in season throughout the year and at the Asian farmers' market that means there's always some new sort of produce I've never seen before being sold for cheap. Duck tongue herb, fuzzy melon, daikon, mugwort, Kav Ywm, Lauj Vag, pennywort, and loquats have all found their way into my shopping bag. I take them home and cook them and sometimes they taste delicious and other times not so much. The adventure is in the tasting, eating, and cooking.

Last week I was mulling around the market and came upon a bulbous pile of pomelos. Nearly neon in color and fragrant with the smell of flora and citrus they seemed to call my name. I had passed pomelos by before in previous years but never picked them up. Fearing they were too similar to grapefruit, the one citrus I simply don't care for, I avoided them. That day, however, I was feeling mighty impulsive.

When I got home I thought against cooking with it. I wanted to simply taste only pure pomelo. I decided to juice the flesh and candy the skin. Simple, unadulterated pomelo.

I was surprised to find that it tasted like grapefruit only sweeter, without the tongue seizing bitterness that so many varieties of grapefruit can have. It was mild and subtle. The juice made for a refreshing drink, but the candied peel, both sweet with just a whisper of bitter as opposed to the berating bleat of bitter in candied grapefruit rind, was decadent and full of zing. A sour note runs through each strips that's fresh and even slightly minty.

If you have the chance to pick up a pomelo be impulsive and grab one. It's a jump worth taking.


Candied Pomelo Rind (Pomeloettes)
1 pomelo
3 cups sugar
water

1. Peel the pomelo, taking care to remove as much of the thick, white pith as possible. The pith is very bitter and may require some delicate work with a pairing knife to remove. Set the fruit aside for another use. Cut the peel into 1/4-inch-wide strips.

2. Fill a small pot with water and bring to a boil. Add the pomelo peel and blanch for 1 minute. Drain the water and remove the peel. Repeat this step three more time. This will remove some of the bitterness from the rind.

3. Fill pot with 2 cups fresh water and 2 cups sugar. Dissolve sugar over medium-low heat. Bring to a boil and add the rind. Reduce heat to medium-low and reduce until the rind is translucent and almost no liquid remains. About 1 hour.

4. Remove the peel from the pot and dredge in granulated sugar. Cool and dry on a wire rack overnight. Store in an airtight container for up to one week.

Craft: Yuzu Gin Fizz Cocktail Recipe

-A contemporary twist on a classic cocktail.-

Blair, a friend of mine from college, was the first person to teach me what a real cocktail was. He was one of the few people I knew who was taller than me, and he had the build of a guy who you could guess wrestled in High School. I always thought he looked exactly like the ideal image of what someone of Scandinavian decent must look like, icy eyes and blond hair as soft as his demeanor. I don't recall exactly how we met but, regardless, he quickly became a part of my life and was eagerly welcomed by my circle of friends. Soon part of our clique we were spending every weekend together watching bad horror movies and whipping together new cocktails. The boy was simply sweeter than honey and as naturally endearing. He still is, in fact.

Blair, like everyone else who first came to my apartment, was staggered by the liquor cabinet my roommates and I had assembled. The cabinet, more of a set of display shelves inlaid into a small inset of living space wall, was packed full with bottles; everything from Anejo and Midori, to Amaretto and Gin. We had it all, and our collection could rival many small bars. Freshmen would look upon it in awe and realize they had come to Nirvana with a swizzle stick. To most college students it was akin to coming across a burning bush and hearing God's voice come out of it. Only, in this case, it was Captain Morgan's voice coming from behind a bottle of Cinnamon Schnapps.

The imbibing impetus for this collection was a small book on cocktails that we had. Every weekend my friends and I would look through the book and decide to concoct something new from its pages. This more than likely meant that we would have to stop at the liquor store for more spirits on our way back from picking up a copy of "Revenge of the Killer Tongue" or other B-horror flick. This meant every single weekend, for about four years, we bought one to three new bottles of liquor. By senior year our bar was beyond epic.

At the time, none of us had any inkling of using fresh anything in our cocktails. This was clear when you realized that we had raspberry, lemon, vanilla, cranberry, and apple vodka sitting on our shelves. For the most part, I think that this is pretty common amongst college students. Home bartending for the student is a means to an end and not a craft. To us the art of craft was saved for Sarah's epic nights of spinning yarn, Andrew's leather working, or my afternoons at gymnastics and fencing. Cocktails were merely flavorful and creative ways to get toasted.

-Small fruit on a tree with huge goddamn thorns. Seriously, be cautious when picking these.-

Unlike my other friends Blair didn't see it this way. With a near limitless supply of liquors and spirits he saw brushes and canvas and near limitless colors with which to paint. On one of his first nights over I watched the way he carefully looked through each and every bottle. Every so often he would pull one down and try to tell us what he had learned about the liquor; where it came from, what grain was used, or the details of the infusion process. If he didn't know he would go online and research it and read aloud what he found. "So that way we know what we're doing when we mix it," he would say before grabbing the shaker and some ice. We would simply nod then go back to scaring ourselves with the newest Silent Hill video game. We would only pause a few minutes later when Blair came back with a round of expertly shaken drinks.

Cocktails were craft to Blair, and everyone was happy to have met someone who saw it that way. It made me happy to see someone who enjoyed his mixology - that was what Blair called it, a term I was at the time unfamiliar with - and took pride in it. His commitment became evidently clear when he arrived one night with a bag of lemons. I liked the way he shooed me away when I presented him with a bottle of lemon vodka and he genially pecked me on the forehead, spun me around, and smacked me on the bum to get me out of the kitchen.

So, from the other side of the counter that separated the living space from the kitchen, I watched Blair begin his preparation. It was thoughtful, the way Blair was about everything from what he picked from a menu to simply which road was the quickest to the gas station. I think I was the only one who realized how serious he took this process. Blair was always smiling his broad smile that made you think that the next sentence to come out of his mouth would be a laughing "Aww, shucks." When mixing drinks this smile faded into pursed lips pressed so hard they went from pink to white. He was concentrating so hard that disturbing him, which I probably did a lot of, became taboo. I reasoned that he was dealing with booze and so this was the self-inflicted curse of any viticulture and eneology major.

Crafting simple syrup, spritzing oils, carving off thin twirls of lemon peel, juicing lemons with an actual lemon juicer, and deftly rimming glasses with sugar seemed so easy for him. He scraped and shook and cut and poured until, finally, he presented me with a Lemon Drop.

-Floral and fragrant the smell of yuzu is reminiscent of tangerines and grapefruit. Dwarf yuzu grow great in cold climates and dwarf trees run about $30.-

I sipped and was dazzled. Life became lemon; sweet and sour and no hint of alcohol burn it slipped across the tongue and screamed of citrus candy. I looked at Blair, "Oh. My. God."

"That's what a lemon drop is supposed to taste like," he said.

I've taken these lessons to heart and heightened my cocktail crafting. With the exception of a few artisan, small batch flavored vodkas I always rely fresh fruit to flavor drinks.

A year ago I potted a dwarf yuzu tree on my patio. Yuzu is a type of citrus hailing form East Asia and is used in primarily Korean and Japanese cooking. It is incredibly aromatic and has a flavor profile of mandarin and grapefruit.

One of the prevailing and most valued qualities of yuzu is its use in cooking. While many other types of citrus juices burn easily in cooking - especially in stir fry - and become bitter the juice of a yuzu can withstand high heat and retain its fragrant sweet-sour flavor. It's also a key ingredient in ponzu sauce.

However, the amount of juice per fruit is sparse - about one teaspoon. The interior is mostly seed. However, the skin is packed with yuzu oil. As such, the skin is often candied or zested into baked goods.

-I love citrus and I love gin. Thus, I love this cocktail. I also love Blair for teaching me to use fresh produce for cocktails.-

My tiny tree gave me three fruits this year and all of them are fragrant and bursting with flavor, as if someone crammed and entire citrus stand into a single sphere.

I decided to tip my hat to Blair and use one in a cocktail. The bright yuzu pairs well with nearly any liquor, but I went with a floral gin that complimented the citrus. Considering how little juice is in a yuzu I had to muddle the whole fruit so hard my hand cramped but the work was well worth it as the oils were coaxed out to mingle with the gin. A small squeeze of lemon added a bit more sour to complete the drink. The result was a yuzu gin fizz that highlighted the sunny citrus fruit.

If you find a yuzu be sure to treasure it and use it wisely. Same goes for your favorite amateur bartender in your life.


Yuzu Gin Fizz Cocktail
2 ounces Gin
1 yuzu
2 teaspoons lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon sugar
carbonated water
ice

Cut the yuzu into quartes and place in a shaker with the gin. Using a muddler or a pestle grind and smash up the gin and yuzu together until very well mixed. Add the sugar, lemon juice and some ice and shake vigorously. Pour and strain into a highball glass and top with ice and carbonated water.

Revani Cupcakes (Semolina Sponge Cupcakes with Citrus Syrup and Coconut)

From the Cupcake Archives because I am super crazy busy and/or trying to nap on my Spring Break.

Many years ago I went to Turkey as part of a life changing vacation through the Middle East. I went and saw the Blue Mosque, walked around the capitol city, enjoyed the local air and culture, and had some wonderful meals. One of the more striking desserts that always seemed to show up was a dish called revani. It was a new experience in cake. It was dense, heavy, and syrupy with a heavy citrus profile. It was a cake revelation.

Revani is a traditional sponge cake of Turkey and other countries like Morocco and Lebanon. Like any sponge cake the recipe is simple but getting truly amazing flavor takes patience and practice.

It's supposedly named after a famous Turkish poet who often extolled the beauty of food, but I can't seem to find any of his work on the Internet. If he supposedly did exist or if this is just a story, I'm not sure. Regardless it's a beautiful cake that really would inspire one to put down their soul into prose.

This is a cupcake with forgiving ingredients. I had no semolina so I substituted Cream of Wheat. Nor did I have dry dessicated coconut, so I used sweetened (I have yet to go grocery shopping after I moved, and the only thing nearby is Albertson's, I went with what I could get at the moment). Honestly, go with sweetened, it's just better and not as dry tasting. If you can get freshly grated, then go that route. I also used a tangelo for the zest rather than a basic orange, though the revani I had in Turkey used some very flavorful exotic orange that was incredibly floral and honey-esque, one I could not identify and I'm sure have little chance of finding.

You have to eat them with a fork, they're too sticky and syrupy to go by hand (we tried and it just gets everywhere, which is fine for outside but not in the living room I just finished cleaning). Very citrusy and very sweet, they're delicious little sponge cakes. We enjoyed them with a bit of yogurt for me and clotted cream for Rob as the dairies just helped accentuate the flavors. The coconut was light and added a nice floral finish. Overall a playful cupcake perfect for spring dinners outside on the patio and for Turkish themed meals.

Revani Cupcakes
Makes 9-12 cupcakes / 350 degree oven

What You'll Need...
1/2 cup of semolina or Cream of Wheat
1/4 cup of flour
1/2 cup of sugar
6 eggs separated, room temperature
zest of one tangelo (or other orange)

What You'll Do...
1) Preheat the oven to 350. Sift the flour and semolina together in a large bowl. In another bowl, beat the yolks and the sugar together until light and creamy. Beat in the orange zest and then gradually beat in the semolina and flour mixture.

2) Whisk the egg whites until stiff peaks form. Remember to have them at room temperature and to start at a low whisking speed, then gradually get to higher speeds. You have to coax them into getting white and fluffy.

3) Fold the egg white mixture carefully into the semolina mixture. Spoon into paper cupcake papers (not foil!). Bake for 12-16 minute or until a toothpick comes out clean.

4) Spoon lemon syrup generously onto cupcake and bake for an additional 2 minutes. Remove from oven and allow to cool and absorb the syrup.

5) Transfer to a dish and serve at room temperature with clotted cream or yogurt and sprinkled coconut. Drizzle on any extra syrup you may have left over.


Lemon Syrup
What You'll Need...
juice and zest of 2 lemons
3/4 cup of sugar
1 1/4 cup of water

What You'll Do...
Put all the ingredients into a pan and bring to a boil, stirring often. Reduce the heat and simmer for 8 minutes.

Earl Grey & Murcott Cupcakes

I am swamped with schoolwork, so yes, another cupcake archive post. Sorries, I promise a real post will go up soon when I have time to sit down and really write something.

I love this cupcake; its very essence is strange and exotic, yet highly refined. It really does give a taste that can only be described through images of a British colony in India. I totally heart them, and would definitely make them again. However, these are cupcakes that will really shine based on what they are paired with. With tea, coffee, or after a light brunch these will dazzle the senses. After a heavy meal? I don't know. Maybe. It's quiddities might be overcome by stronger flavors. They also go great (I kid you not) with a Fetzer '05 Riesling. That's right, I'm pairing wine with cupcakes now.

Would I bring these to a potluck again? No. Would I bring them to a fine brunch or a fete? Yes. The rogue play of muted citrus and the bold mannerisms of the black tea create a truly sophisticated dessert.

Overall, these were very well recepted by everyone at the potluck (of which the next post will address) and many were even taken home for seconds or for loved ones who couldn't come. Yayness indeed.

Eary Grey & Murcott Cupcakes
Makes about 24 cupcakes

What You'll Need...
1 cup unsalted butter, room temperature
2 cups sugar
4 large eggs, room temperature
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1 cup milk
2 bags double bergamot early grey tea
1 teaspoon Murcott Orange zest (not navel or juice orange zest!)

What You'll Do...
1) Beat butter on high until soft for 30 seconds.

2) Add sugar. Beat on medium-high until light and fluffy.

3) Add eggs one at a time, beat for 30 seconds between each.

4) Whisk together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and tea (bags ripped open and emptied) in a bowl.

5) Measure out milk and zest in another glass.

6) Mix in the flour mixture then the milk mixture, alternating between the two and ending with the flour.

7) Scoop into cupcake papers about 3/4 full.

8) Bake for 22-25 minutes at 350F or until a toothpick comes out clean.


Earl Grey Buttercream
What You'll Need...
1 cup butter, room temperature
4 cups of powdered sugar
1/4 cup of milk
1 bag of earl grey tea (contents emptied)

What You'll Do...
1) Cream the butter until soft.

2) Add the sugar and then the milk and tea. Cream till soft. Spread on cool cupcakes.

Kumquatinis!

I'm typing this after two of these, hoping there are no typing errors. Very fruity. Very tasty. Very tipsy. Mandarinquats or maybe limequats would rock too. Be sure to check out the recipe for candied kumquats at Simply Recipes.

Kumquatinis
3 ounces of Mandarin Vodka
1 ounce of White Cranberry Juice
1 ounce of Orange Juice
a few candied kumquats

Shake vodka and juice over ice. Pour into a martini glass and garnish with some candied kumquats. (Chopped regular kumquats are fine too.)

Grandma's Recipes #2 - Vanilla Meyer Lemonade

When I found this simple and easy recipe for vanilla lemonade, I decided to make a few tweaks. Her recipe called for some vanilla extract and for regular lemons. I decided to go with sweeter Meyer lemons, as I had a spare bushel of them lying around, and since I still have insane numbers of vanilla beans, I went with that for a purer flavor.

I used one of the beans from my "Used Vanilla" jar, vanilla can be used more than once so after use, I just wash the bean off, let it dry, and pop it in a jar. Each bean can get about 5 good uses out of it. After that I just pop it into a jar of sugar for vanilla sugar. Fresh vanilla is fine too, but this is a great recipe for old beans.

This recipe is fast and straightforward with a lot of payoff in the end. Sweet and sour lemonade with a refreshing taste of vanilla in the background. Perfectly delicious all year round.

Vanilla Meyer Lemonade
What You'll Need...
1 cup of Meyer, or regular, lemon juice (about 4-5 lemons)
1 vanilla bean, split lengthwise
1/3 cup of granulated sugar
water

What You'll Do...
1) Juice the lemons for the juice, being sure to strain out pulp and seeds. Add 4 cups of water and stir.

2) Combine the sugar, vanilla bean, and 1/2 cup of water into a saucepan. Stir over medium-high heat until the sugar dissolves. Pluck out the vanilla bean, wash it and dry it, then store for future use. let the vanilla simple syrup cool and then pour and mix into the lemonade.

3) Chill and serve over ice.

Beet Cupcakes with Chocolate Ganache and Candied Meyer Lemon Peel and Beet Sticks

This is one of those cupcakes that has been on my to-do lists for about, oh... a year. Seriously. I finally got around to doing another cupcake in general as well. It's been a few months, but I needed a break to work on other projects, do school, do holidays, try other types of baking and so on. So no worries, we are back on track and I haven't given up the cupcake ghost.

I admire beets, their deep red, staining color. Their intensely earthy and sweet flavor. Their musky scent. Sure children the world over anathematize them, but when part of a rich, fruity, and velvety beet cake who can resist? They add lots of sugar and flavor to the cake and keep it nice and moist. For those of you who have never had beet cake, I assure you, you are missing out.

I was originally planning to pair them with some candied kumquats but after three stores searching I quit the kumquat search. I instead candied some beet matchsticks and Meyer lemon peel. These fruity counterpoints, held in place with a simple ganache, make for a deeply sweet and curious tasting cupcake that elicits small moans with each bite.

Chocolate Beet Cupcakes
Makes 24 cupcakes / 350 F
Adapted From Cook & Eat

What You'll Need...
2 cups beet puree (about 3 large beets)
1 cup of unsalted butter, melted
2 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup tightly packed brown sugar
3 eggs
1/2 cup warm water
1 1/2 cup of all-purpose flour
3/4 cups unsweetened cocoa
2 teaspoons of baking powder
1/2 teaspoons of salt

1) Peel and chop the beets and wrap in foil with a dab of butter and roast for one hour at 350 F. Puree in a food processor and let cool completely.

2) Mix together the melted butter, sugars, eggs, and water until smooth.

3) Combine the cocoa powder, flour, salt, and baking powder. Slowly sift into the wet ingredients until just combined.

4) Fold in the beet puree. Scoop into cupcake papers about 1/4th of the way full.

5) Bake for 20-24 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean (it will be red, but should have no cake on it). Let sit for a minute then, let cool on a wire rack.

6) Pour in chocolate ganache, and decorate with candied beet sticks and lemon peel. Let sit until ganache hardens.


Chocolate Ganache
What You'll Need...
6 tablespoons of unsalted butter
7 ounces of quality chocolate

What You'll Do...
1) Melt the chocolate in a double boiler with half the butter. Stir and let melt.

2) Take off heat and add the rest of the butter. Stir. Let sit and cool for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally. Be sure to keep an eye on it as once it hardens it's almost impossible to work with.

3) When well thickened, pour into cupcakes and let cool, or if your cupcakes have mounds, dip and swirl the tops and let them cool. Decorate with candied Meyer lemon and beet.


Candied Lemon Peel & Candied Beet
What You'll Need...
Peel (no pith) from 2 Meyer Lemons
1/2 a beet, peeled and chopped into matchsticks
2 cups of sugar
3/4 cup of water

What You'll Do...
1) In a pot of cold water, add the peel and bring to a boil. Discard the water and add new cold water and bring it to a boil again. Repeat this two more times (a total of four) to remove any bitterness.

2) Boil the beet matchsticks for 3 minutes to soften them a bit.

3) Boil the sugar and water together to make a simple syrup. Add the peel and let boil until slightly translucent. Add the beet sticks and boil for 2 minutes.

4) Let them cool and dry. Roll in sugar if desired.

Making Preserved Lemons

So I have been hell-bent on learning Moroccan cooking the past year or so and I am finally getting to it. First I picked the olives and now I have the preserved lemons on the way. Elise gave me some fresh Meyer lemons to use so I can't wait to see how their sweet flavor develops. Preserved lemons can be a bit testy and go bad easily so I decided to make them in two different ways.

Method 1: I cut the lemons into most quarters, though still connected at the base, and packed them with salt. The method is in detail on Simply Recipes.

Method 2: I just cut the lemons into quarters all the way through and alternated layers of lemons and salt (a mixture of sea salt and kosher salt). I also used some coriander and bay leaves in this jar for a bit of extra flavor. Afterwards I topped it off with a bit more salt and lemon juice.

The end result should give me some nice preserved lemons. The fruit isn't really usable which is fine because the peel is what you want. Chopped up into tagines or other dishes they give a heady perfume of fruit, salt, and citrus which just permeates the dish.

Wish them luck!

Port Royals (Chocolate Cupcakes with Cocoa Star Anise Ganache and Candied Grapefruit Zest)

From the Cupcake Archives
-------------------------------

I named this a Port Royal because 1) it sounded like a refined name for a very fashionable, delicate, and august cupcake; and 2) I have been watching Pirates of the Caribbean like I'll win a prize.

Honestly, this flavor combo was a total crapshoot. I had seen the combo before but never tried it, but was always fascinated by it. Chocolate, star anise, and grapefruit. Who knew? Seriously, who on earth thought of pairing this one together, cause I never would have. The flavors really do compliment each other, yet each one stands out as an individual. Unless you like star anise, you will not like this cupcake. If you appreciate it's slightly licorice flavor, and the tang of grapefruit then this is the cupcake for you. It was very popular with everyone who tried it, and would say that it's a real crowd pleaser due to its uniqueness. Really though, the flavors are very delicate, and I would almost call this cupcake elitist in its taste.

It does take a while to make it, mainly cause some of the prep work means requires you to start the night before, but ah well. I made these to thank a group of good people for meeting me at the Sacramento Food Bank to do some volunteer work (will post on that later), and had a few other people try them. They seem to be pretty successful, and Rob classified them as one of the best cupcakes yet.

This will be the last chocolate cupcake for a while. In Northern California, Winter has pretty much passed and Spring is making it's quick appearance before Summer comes in beating my door down. I yearn to work with lighter, brighter ingredients; rhubarb, limes, teas, and stone fruit call out to me. Also, chocolate can get pricey, so blah.

Chocolate Cupcakes
24 regular cupcakes / 350 degree oven

What You'll Need...
200 gram bar of Valrhona 61% cacao
3 sticks butter
2-1/4 cups sugar
8 eggs
1-1/4 cup flour
1/4 cup cocoa powder, unsweetened
1-1/2 teaspoons baking powder
pinch of salt

What You'll Do...
1) Chop chocolate and transfer into the bowl of a standing mixer, add the butter to the chocolate and place the bowl over a pan of simmering water (a double boiler works great too). Stir until chocolate melts and combined with the butter.

2) Remove from heat and stir in the sugar. Let the mixture cool for 10 minutes to thicken.

3) Place the bowl back into the mixer and beat at medium speed for 3 minutes.

4) Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing for 30 seconds before adding the next.

5) Sift the flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, and a pinch of salt into the mixture and mix until just blended.

6) Scoop into cupcake papers and bake at 350F for 22-25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Be sure to rotate the pan after the first 15 minutes to ensure even baking.


Candied Grapefruit Peel
Prep the night before.

What You'll Need...
2 Ruby Red grapefruits
1 tablespoon of salt
2 cups of sugar

What You'll Do...
1) Zest the peel into long strips with a citrus zester. (You can cut off the zest as well, then cut into strips, just be sure to scrape off all of the white pith as it's nasty bitter.) Add salt and peel to 4 cups of water and let stand overnight.

2) Drain and rinse. Place in a saucepan and cover with cold water. Heat to boiling and then drain. Repeat 3 times. This is to remove any bitterness from the peel.

3) In the sauce pan, combine the peel, sugar and 1/2 cup of water. Heat and stir until sugar dissolves. Continue to cook until peel is translucent, about 4-7 minutes. Drain any liquid and roll the peel in granulated sugar. Set on a plate without overlapping to prevent clumping, and allow to dry. Arrange on cupcakes.


Star Anise Chocolate Ganache
Prep the night before.

What You'll Need...
8 ounces chocolate (the higher the cacao percentage, the better)
1 cup heavy cream
5 star anise, broken up

What You'll Do...
1) Place the cream and anise in a bowl, and let sit overnight.

2) Break up the chocolate and place in a heat proof bowl.

3) Heat the cream and anise in a saucepan and heat at medium high until small bubble form on the rim. Pour through a mesh sieve to catch the anise as it pours over the chocolate. Let sit for one minute.

4) Mix together till smooth, uniform, and silky. Let cool a bit. Dip and swirl the cupcake domes into the ganache. Shake off the excess. Decorate with the grapefruit zest and let stand to dry.

Orange Clove Cupcakes with Vanilla Buttercream and Clove-Candied Orange Peel

My friend Babette, who is also the creator of Bakespace, is celebrating the Bakespace birthday this month, so I decided to make her her very own cupcake.

This is a slightly citric, lightly aromatic, and hedonistic spice cake. It's comforting and eloquent with it's bold, in-your-face flavors. Orange cake has been laced with hints of freshly ground cloves to give it a bit of a bite. A vanilla buttercream acts as a simple, if not perfectly paired backdrop to allow the real star flavors to shine. The candied orange peel has also been given a bit of raw ground clove as well, it's pungent and slightly bitter flavor creating sweet little pinpricks on your tongue. It's a delicious thing to bite into.

Here's to you darlin'! Congrats!

Orange Clove Cupcakes
Makes 24 cupcakes / 350F oven

What You'll Need...
3 cups of flour
1 tablespoon of baking powder
1 pinch of salt
2 tablespoons of grated orange zest
5 eggs
1 1/2 cups of sugar
1 cup of vegetable oil
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
3/4 cup of orange juice (no pulp)
1 1/2 teaspoons of ground cloves

What You'll Do...
1) Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Combine the flour, zest, ground cloves, salt and baking powder together in a bowl and set aside.

2) Place eggs and sugar in a mixer and beat on high for 30 seconds until light and fluffy.

3) Add the vanilla and oil and mix until just combined.

4) Add some of the dry ingredients and then the orange juice. Alternate the dry and wet ingredients, ending with the dry.

5) Scoop into cupcake papers about 3/4 full. Bake for 18-22 minutes, rotating the pan after the first 15 minutes. Check with a cake tester or toothpick for doneness.

Vanilla Buttercream
What You'll Need...
1 cup butter, room temperature
4 cups of powdered sugar
1/4 cup of milk
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract

What You'll Do...
1) Cream the butter until soft.

2) Add the sugar and then the milk and vanilla extract. Cream till soft. Spread on cooled cupcakes.
Cloved & Candied Orange Peel
What You'll Need...
2 oranges
1 tablespoon of salt
1 pinch of ground cloves
2 cups of sugar, plus some extra for rolling

What You'll Do...
1) Zest the peel into long strips with a citrus zester. (You can cut off the zest as well with e a vegetable peeler, then cut into strips, just be sure to scrape off all of the white pith as it's nasty bitter.) Add salt and peel to 4 cups of water and let stand overnight.

2) Drain and rinse. Place in a saucepan and cover with cold water. Heat to boiling and then drain. Repeat 3 times (this is to remove any bitter taste).

3) In sauce pan, combine peel, sugar and 1/2 cup water. Heat and stir until sugar dissolves. Continue to cook until peel is translucent. Drain any liquid.

4) Place some granulated sugar and a pinch and roll peel in granulated sugar and ground cloves. Be sure to only use a small pinch of cloves, in large amounts by itself raw cloves can create a burning or numbing sensation on the tongue. (By the by never take a pinch of ground cloves and put it on your tongue; can you tell I learned something today?) You just want a very slight taste of it, and when combined with the sugar it's tamed and tasty. Allow to dry.

Note: This, like many of my recipes, can easily be adapted to a sheet or round cake as well.