Excerpts From Steamy Romance Novels for Food Writers: Pluot & Vanilla Jam

He began to stand on his chair. Stalwart. Strong. Almost as quick as his flash she reached out to him and pleaded. "If you don't sit down they'll know we're writing a Yelp review." Yet, she knew he cared nothing for her reviews, regardless of how witty they were. All that mattered was his food porn.

---

He gazed longingly at her as she paraded the coconut cake with homemade, organic Meyer lemon curd and Italian buttercream frosting made with fair trade Tahitian vanilla beans to the table. She had shaved the coconut herself; a dedication that only made her more desirable. He would have to chain back his lust before leaping upon her and the cake until she had a good shot for her Pinterest board.

---

They couldn't understand why someone would call that question into The Splendid Table when a Google search would have been more efficient.

Appreciation: Peach Barbecue Sauce

-Because if you aren't slathering your meat in peaches then how else will you appreciate summer?-

As a child, I never really knew where to place my appreciation when it came to my parents and their summer grilling. My mom was the one who went to the store and bought all of the ingredients. She would be the one to make the marinade for our flank steak using her family's recipe. It was mom who would dote over it for the next three days and turn it when necessary to ensure the steak had absorbed all the flavor. On the grilling day mom would put together a salad and a side while my younger brother and I set the table.

After all this Dad would take the meat and toss it on the grill. He would watch it with a certain intensity usually only reserved for work and shotgun enthusiast magazines. In summer he saw grilling as his testosterone-inherited duty.

When dinner was served we would all thank Dad for the amazing work he did at the grill. Mom would be thanked as well, but always second to dad. After all, from my young point of view all I really saw was dad sweating over the blaring heat of the grill. Plus, I didn't like salad so I never really thanked mom for it.

It wasn't fair, but then life seldom is. Mom wasn't about to put down her children's father right in front of the whole family in order to get her proper due. She was reserved and very self-sacrificing that way. She still is. (Well, most of the time. If she's going to get a jab in it'll be a good one; "Mom! I can't believe you just said that!" "Well, it's the truth," she'll say nonchalantly.) As kids, though, nary a peep.

Breakfast for One

-Eating alone doesn't have to be depressing.-

For the past few weeks BF has been out of town for some of his medical training (which is one of the reasons we compliment each other so well, I having predisposition to accidentally harming myself, and he having to bandage me up). Roommate is usually away for work and his frequent weekend adventures in San Francisco make him so absent I sometimes forget I even have a roommate. I'm only reminded when he comes back in at some random hour on a Tuesday and he regales me with stories that are too scandalous for this blog.

And, so, I've had a lot of alone time. Most of my life has been surrounded by people and while a little alone time is great large amounts of it unnerve me. The cats only listen to me for so long before walking away to catch some reflected sunlight on the wall. I have a strict rule not to drink alone (who would I dance with?). I usually end up watching some horror movie late into the night. I subsequently spend the rest of it in bed rationalizing that the picture frame that fell off the wall at one in the morning was a random occurrence and not the manifestation of some angry ghost who wants to brutalize me.

However, there are plenty of positive aspects to having a long period of uninterrupted personal space. It's amazing how much reading I've been able to catch up with. No one is playing World of Warcraft at three in the morning (nothing, apparently, is noisier than a Death Knight at three in the morning). I can sprawl out in the bed all I want and the covers are all mine.

Cooking seems to be the real problem I have. Suddenly reducing my menus from meals for three to meals for one is difficult. I buy too much at the market and end up struggling to use it all. The sheer volume of leftovers I have in the fridge and freezer is enough to open my own food bank.

-I prefer white nectarines to yellow ones. Plus, I enjoy them tight and tart, not squishy and too sweet.-

Of course, the reason some of it goes unused is because I can eat without reprobation. Ice cream and a side of peanut butter toast is perfectly acceptable for dinner. I can break out a jar of Nutella and a spoon and simply watch repeats of Xena or Airbender without anyone complaining. A simple salad of bok choi with sesame oil and Chinkiang vinegar can be the most relaxing thing ever and I don't have to hold a conversation. I can simply, rudely, bury my nose in a magazine and not give a damn about the world. And, once in a while, I'll go grab a quick Taco Bell taco.

Not all of my meals are so irresponsible. A simple single serving of cooked fruit can be quite relaxing and indulgent. I don't even have to share!

A few cubed up nectarines and berries tossed with a bit of thyme and honey is a particular summer treat that I enjoy making for myself on a lazy Sunday. This morning the necatrines at the Farmer's market were tight and tart the way I like them and begged to be roasted just a little to sweeten them. A little flurry of ground almonds gave the dish a faux crumble crust. I decided to really make it richer with a small pour of heavy cream. A trick my cousin's wife, Cio, taught me that enhances any crumble or cobbler.

This little serving for one with a tall glass of iced oolong tea made for a beautiful breakfast for me, myself, and I which is nice because - between being amongst all the people I love - we needed to catch up a bit.


Baked Summer Fruit
There's no real recipe for this, just a method. Preheat the oven to 350F and lightly butter a baking dish or a few ramekins. In a bowl toss some chopped nectarines or peaches and a handful of berries (your choice on what kind) with a spoonful of honey and 1/2 teaspoon of thyme. Place into the baking dish or ramekins. Dust with some almond meal (though any well chopped nut will do). Bake for 15 minutes. Pour a few tablespoons of heavy cream or milk over the fruit. Serve.

The Peerless, Popable, Tart, Sweet Cherry Plum

"Well, the skin is tart," said the woman at the Farmer's Market, her shale colored hair tied back with a piece of leather string.

"Tart?" I replied, eyeing the small baskets of curious fruit, what looked like plums but each no bigger than the masher in a bag of marbles. The sign for "Fresh Cherry Plums" caught my eye, and being an enthusiastic fan of both cherries and plums I was pulled in with near gravitic force.

"Extremely tart. From the tip of your tongue till the moment you swallow tart."

"Really!? I've had a tart plum before, but never a tart plum before."

"Oh well these are tart. Tart skinned that is. Some people like their fruit to have layers of subtley. A million different smells and aromas all competing. Who wants a plum with a hint of cherry with a nose of pineapple mysteriously waiting behind the bush ready to jump you? Not cherry plums though. There are two notes: Tart and Sweet. (With a plum taste of course.) In fact, I would say the skin on these plums stand up and shout, 'I'm tart! I'll make you flinch and squeeze your eyes shut!'"

"That doesn't exactly sound appealing."

"It's appealing because it's sweet," she said in a perspicacious tone that brought a sly bit of color to her somewhat pallor complexion.

"But you said it was tart."

"Yes, but I said it was sweet. The flesh is sweet, like juicy candy that's waiting to tell you the sweetest secret you've ever heard. Except the second you try to tell it to someone else you can't."

"Why can't I?"

"Because the juice will dribble down your chin." Obviously. "That's why I suggest you don't try to nibble it and just pop the whole thing in your mouth in a single bite. Swallow the secret, nibbling will just spread it around and make a mess of things like your chin and shirt. The tart will be tart, the sweet will be sweet and that makes it the perfect popable plum."

"A peerless plum! I'm convinced," I said, and handed her a dollar for a basket. Indeed, as I tossed a cherry plum or two in my mouth on the walk back to the car I enjoyed the belligerent tart and the unblemished sweet of the plum, then skillfully spit out the pits with a certain spin, arc and distance that can only be achieved after years of rigorous practice with cherry pits. A peerless plum indeed.

Rhubarb and Nectarine Crumble: An Understandable Result of Banner Making

I hate making banners and buttons for the blog. If anything it's the bane of my blogging life. I recall the horror that was making the banner you see at the top of this web page. Three days of frustration, screaming, and pouring through code and html tutorials and online photoshop lessons. At one point I almost gave up the blog in a small fit of crying after stumbling along for a 6 hour stretch of utter FAIL. Still in the end, it worked out. It might be time for an update though, but honestly I just don't even want to go there.

So when I decided I had to make a banner and button for the new blog (where there is a new post up today), I just had to grit my teeth and bear it. I went to the store and bough a few pink and ruby hued stalks of rhubarb so I could take some pictures. Getting them home I got out the white plate I use for photographs and placed it precariously on my window ledge where I get the most light and, of course, also risk everything tumbling over the edge in a heap at any second when the camera is raised. As I tried to arrange the stalks of rhubarb, a vegetable that is anything but neatly stackable, I began to try to picture my end result. Beautiful, red and white, a perfect font that heralded intellectual thought and creativity in the food world with a picture that encapsulated the soul of food writing. I knew what I wanted and goddamnnit I was going to get it even if I had to break out the glue gun and airbrushing to make it work.

The pictures, amazingly, came out fine. However with no photoshop on my new MacBook I resorted to Picnik, an online photo editing program I was made aware of at the recent IFBC. While I was initially frustrated that my perfect banner wasn't going to be possible (it's a great program but it has its limitations) I came out with one that was better that what I originally envisioned, plus a nifty little banner-button-ad-thingy for this blog. It's a little piece of work with which I am very proud of myself for.

Still, that left me with a lot of rhubarb to use up. Lucky for me I had a few nectarines that were sitting about from the Farmer's Market. Still firm and tight with a death grip on the stone they weren't juice dribbling sweet with a thick aroma. Instead they had a delightfully tart taste to them that was slightly reminiscent of sour candy.

Chopping them up tossing them with some sugar and some diced rhubarb into the little casserole dish they went. (My brand new Le Creuset 5X7 inch casserole dish in pretty cerulean I might add. Found on sale with a matching 7X10 1/2. For $30. Yayness indeed.) I whipped up a quick oatmeal crumble topping and into the oven it went.

Sure 100+ degree weather and baking don't mix entirely, but damn it, dessert was at stake! Twenty five sweltering minutes later out it came. As I moved aside the research I was doing for the new blog's next post I took a bite - never mind that I burnt my tongue due to my sore lack of patience, the crumble was delicious. Not overly sweet, perfectly tangy and tart, with just enough of that juice laden crumble on top to take me into a little bit of bliss. This crumble was a celebration of my new blog and triumph over technological photographic hurdles.

I made it again the next day. It perfectly serves two (or perhaps one very generously) and takes only a few minutes to throw together. If you don't have rhubarb or nectarines, I suppose really any fruit will do nicely but I encourage you to try it this way as it is quite fabulous.

Rhubarb & Nectarine Crumble
1 good, large stalk of rhubarb
1 nectarine
zest of one orange
1 tablespoon of sugar
1/4 stick of cold butter
1/2 cup of flour
1/4 cup of oats
2 tablespoons of brown sugar

1. Preheat oven to 350F.

2. Dice up the rhubarb and nectarine. Toss in a 5X7 baking dish with the sugar and orange zest and mix it up a bit allowing the produce to macerate.

3. Place the butter, flour, oats, and brown sugar in a bowl and cut the butter into the dry ingredients until the whole thing looks like bread crumbs. Pour over the fruit and pat down a bit.

4. Bake for 25 minutes. Allow to cool for a few minutes or just dive right in like I did and burn yourself. Totally worth the skin grafts you'll be needing on your tongue.

Hemingway Inspired Apricot and Riesling Jam + A New Blog

When writing papers I usually need to have a study break of some kind. More often than not my study breaks consist of cooking something I've never made before. The novelty of crafting something strange and new puts me in a different mindset, refreshes my brain, and (most importantly) gives me something tasty to munch on. Mind and body refreshed and awakened.

For me, one of the strange and exotic I before feared was jam, and subsequently, canning it. Now, all my previous canning experiences are what I would call catastrophes. There was that one time I accidentally dipped my arm into a pot of boiling water. There was the time the tomato sauce jar blew up in my hand, where afterwards a rousing game of "Is that blood or tomato sauce?" was enjoyed by all. The few times I wasn't injured resulted in the food going horribly wrong as in the black sludge-like strawberry jam that left my kitchen smelling like pure hate and despair coalesced into a deadly aroma of smoky pitch.

Somehow though this worked out. By luck, karma, or divine providence I made jam. Good jam. Really good jam.

Now after working non-stop on my Hemingway paper, this jam derives its genesis from Hemingway's short stories, novels, and memoir. I used a tin of canned apricots due to their importance in the short story "Big Two-Hearted River" in which the solitary character Nick downs a can of apricots claiming them to "be better than fresh." Canning in the 1920's was a relatively new concept at the time - women were saved time and soldiers had better access to healthier food, canning was to the 1920's what local and organic is to us today.

The Riesling is because it's fucking Hemingway. Alcohol must be used. Choosing the Riesling did take some time though as I and two wine guys at Whole Foods stood around discussing the principles of the project I was to undertake, what would pair well with apricots, and the many references to booze in Hemingway (so it's not like it was easy to pare it down as every beer, wine, liquor, and spirit known to man was game).

Finally the product itself - the jam. Catherine in the novel A Farewell to Arms becomes obsessed with breakfast as a means of psychologically and emotionally escaping her situation of being very pregnant and trying to row a boat during a storm from Italy to Switzerland to escape the Italian army. She feels that by focusing on breakfast she can displace her anxiety and stress from her precarious state.

Ah, but by now you are wondering what the jam tastes like? It is superb. The sugar from the tinned apricots really gave it a nice flavor. The Riesling adds a different layer of sweetness, one more clear and sharp, plus a slight spiciness. Lastly I put the kernels from the apricots pits in the jars to lend a slight almond profile to the jams. Delicious.

This is also a post to bring to your attention a little announcement. I have started a new blog entitled "The Rhetoric of Rhubarb." This blog will focus on my research which is often an intersection of food, psychology, sociology, literature, rhetoric and history I'll be doing in my grad program. An academic food blog of sorts. It'll be updated every Monday. If you want a bit of mental and analytical exercise I hope you'll hop on over and follow; I am encouraging debate, critique, questions and insights. It still needs some new paint and some styling, so be kind in its Version 1.0 phase.

Hemingway Inspired Apricot and Riesling Jam
4 cups of diced apricots
1 cup of canned apricots, (this should be an entire 15oz can, well drained)
2 + 3/4 cups of sugar
1/4 cup + 1 tablespoon of Riesling
5 tablespoons of lemon juice
apricot kernels (optional)

1. Place the apricots, canned apricots, lemon juice, sugar, and Riesling in a stainless steel pot with high sides. Bring to a boil over medium heat. Cook for 25-30 minutes, stirring occasionally.

2. If you want to use the kernels, take the pits outside and pop them on the concrete. Smack them firm and lightly with a hammer and extract the kernel. You may crush the first few but you'll figure it out quickly. 

3. Pour into sterilized jars leaving 1/4 inch of head space. Wipe the rims with a wet tea towel. Place the lid on and screw on securing ring. Work quickly.

4. Wait for the tops to pop in creating a vacuum seal. Store in a cool place and eat within 3 months.

Late Summer Galette with Stone Fruit & Thyme

Oh me, oh my, what a recipe! It is my opinion that stone fruit and thyme are a combination made in heaven! I use thyme in bread puddings, cupcakes, and a variety of other sweet n' savory goods. Tasters are never able to guess what it is, but curiosity always takes a back seat to the desire for a second bite.

This galette is no exception. Thyme's warm, earthy flavor along with the fruit is just made to be eaten at the beach or alongside a cup of iced tea with lemon. When you match the verdant and primal flavors of thyme with a variety of sweet-tart stone fruit it's divine proof that God is not only out there, you're doing her will in the kitchen.

Late Summer Galette
I really have to send props to Elise of Simply Recipes. For the crust I used her recipe. And it worked! I MADE CRUST! You don't understand, my crusts are always sheet rock. This was yummy and flaky! This is also her basic plum galette recipe with a few alterations I made for what I had on hand. Feel free to switch out the stone fruit as you see fit. I used 6 different kinds.

What You'll Need...
1 recipe pate brisee pie crust
1 peach or nectarine, pitted and sliced
5-6 small stone fruits such as pluots, plums, Italian plums, apriums, apricots, or whatever all pitted and sliced
1/2 cup of chopped almonds
Zest from one lemon
1 1/2 teaspoons of chopped thyme
2 tablespoon of flour
1/2 cup of sugar

1) In a medium sized bowl, gently toss the fruit slices with the thyme, lemon zest, flour and sugar.

2) Preheat oven to 375°F. If you are using homemade chilled pie dough, remove it from the refrigerator to let stand for 10 minutes before rolling out.

3) Lightly flour a clean surface and roll out the pie dough to a 13-inch round of even thickness.

4) Place rolled-out pie dough in the center of a small-rimmed, lightly buttered baking sheet. Place plum mixture in the center of the pie dough round, leaving a border of 2 inches on all sides. Fold the edges of the pie crust up and over so that circle of the filling is visible.

5) Place in the middle rack of the oven. Bake at 375°F for 40-50 minutes, until the crust is lightly browned and the filling is bubbly. Cool on a rack for an hour before serving.

L'Affaire du Clafoutis

I have to admit I have a small, school girl like crush. I'm smitten. All I can do is daydream when I should be working. In my imagination I melt with each new embrace. My lip quivering and bosom heaving like a lead lady in some Harlequin romance novel.

I am, of course, speaking of clafoutis.

A few days ago I pleaded for help on identifying some Italian plums and what to do with them. Many of you suggested this strange, foreign new comer with rosy cheeks that just sort of make me melt at the mere thought of them.

Clafoutis is an eggy, almost custard, not quite flan, adult form of crepe sort of gustatory fiancee of mine. Normally it's made with unpitted cherries; the cherries adding a supposedly deep, nutty flavor. However, my Italian plums wooed me and swept me off my feet in this so simple, easy to make recipe. The sassy little tarts.

I'm cheating on the cupcakes with clafoutis at the moment. It's tawdry the way we sneak around in the kitchen, sharing moments with each other while the cupcake tin wonders where I am, and Rob wonders where his piece of clafoutis is. She is all mine though, I'm too selfish for a menage et trois.

Italian Plum Clafoutis
Serves 9 / 350 F oven

What You'll Need...
6 Italian plums, each cut into 8 wedges, stones discarded
3 eggs
1/3 cup granulated sugar or vanilla sugar
1 cup of milk or cream ( I used a bit of both)
2 teaspoons of vanilla extract
pinch of salt
1/2 cup of flour
powdered sugar to garnish
What You'll Do...
1) Lightly butter a 9 inch or 8 inch, round or square, Pyrex dish or tart pan. Arrange the plums on the bottom. Give them a light, fine dusting of granulated sugar. Preheat the oven to 350 F.

2) Whisk together the sugar and eggs for a minute or two. Add the milk, extract, and salt and whisk a minute more.

3) Sift in the flour and whisk. Lightly pour into the baking dish or tart pan, try to keep the plums from floating away, but some of them will regardless what you do. Just accept it.

4) Bake for 40 minutes, rotating the the pan after the first 32 to ensure even baking. Remove from the oven and let cool for 40 minutes. the clafoutis will deflate a bit, but that's fine and supposed to happen. Dust with powdered sugar and serve.

Normally you use a round 9 or 10 inch tart pan for this. I used a Pyrex 8 inch square pan for it, which was just fine too.

Mystery Plum

So I grabbed these instead of figs by accident this last Sunday at the Farmer's Market. I think they're plums. They're tiny little things, and the flesh grips the stone like it was about to get a vaccination shot. To anyone reading I ask: What are they, and does anyone have a recipe for them?

Escape

Penelope and I decided to take a day off from the world yesterday. No spouses. No work. No thinking about school, duties, errands, tasks, promises, lies, ideals, hopes, failures, or commitments.

It was a day to relax. To sit back and stare at the sky. To enjoy oneself. To ponder the universe and all of it's types and patterns. To have a comforting simple meal, and a simple day out for pure purpose of a peaceful, entertaining night in good company.

The day before I graduated high school, I laid down on the grass and stared at the sky, and wondered what my future was going to be. I never would have guessed I would be where I am now, doing the things I am doing. I did the same yesterday. I guess I came full circle, though I didn't realize I was on any path to begin with. I guess I begin the gyrating tread once more.

We made a picnic lunch and went out the the Sacramento Shakespeare Festival to see The Comedy of Errors, which is by far one of the bard's best plays. Confusion, puns, and hilarity ensues amongst long lost and separated sets of twins and a town is thrown into turmoil. It's worth seeing, and even if you're someone who thinks "Shakespeare is too hard for me to understand!" trust me, seeing it on stage makes it very easy to understand when you have a face to put to a character name, and lines are being read with emotion. It's still going, so be sure to catch a viewing and bring a picnic lunch! You can find tickets here.

Penelope and I made a very simple and very satisfying picnic lunch. We used Tea's recipe for lentil salad (albeit a few alterations, it's a great base recipe that allows lots of room to personalize it,) made a simple fruit salad with some chopped mint and lemon juice - mint perks up a fruit salad like nothing else - and we tore apart a roast chicken and mixed it with some romaine lettuce. Throw in some water and kiwis and we were set. Next time we'll be sure to remember the wine as well.

It made for a perfect picnic to a perfect show on a perfect day.

Sometimes a day of escape is just what you need.

Simple Fruit Salad
serves 4-6

What You'll Need...
2 1/2 cups of fresh strawberries
2 nectarines or peaches
3 apricots or plums
2 cups of seedless grapes
2 tablespoons of chopped fresh mint
juice of 1 lemon

What You'll Do...
1) Wash and dice the fruit.

2) Combine the fruit, mint and lemon juice in a bowl and toss. Serve immediately or let sit in the fridge for a bit to let the mint permeate the fruit a bit.

Optional: If you want, assorted berries really work well in this recipe, as might a 1/2 teaspoon of grated ginger if you so wish.

Vanilla Plum Sorbet

I had a bunch of plums from Elise that were so ripe you could barely hold them without juice seeping out and trickling down your arm. What better way to use a bunch of delicious plums quickly than with this tasty freeze treat? The vanilla is subtle and just sort of lingers in the air like the smoke from a fire extinguished hours ago. Mouth-puckering tart, smile inducing sweet, and altogether shibby.

Vanilla Plum Sorbet
What You'll Need...
8 plums
3/4 cup of vanilla sugar or sugar
1 vanilla bean
1/2 cup of sugar

What You'll Do...
Chop and pit the plums. Discard the pits. Puree the plums and push through a strainer. Combine with water, sugar/vanilla sugar, and cut open and scrape out the inside of a vanilla bean. Whisk together.

Chill the mixture, then freeze it in your ice cream maker per the manufacturer's instructions. (I used one from the vanilla sugar bottle that had some left. Remember, vanilla beans can be used many times before being discarded.)

Sauteed Vanilla Scented Apricots

Elise and I recently traded vanilla beans for some fresh apricots. Staring at the perfectly ripe, sun-like globes of sweet juicy goodness, I knew I had to combine them with some of the vanilla beans.

Even as I opened the apricots, their pits falling out effortlessly, their overpowering scent took over the kitchen and began to strongarm the vanilla for aromatic dominance. I realized that a simple saute would be the best way to incorporate the two dueling flavors.

The finished bring orange apricots, flecked with black pinpricks of vanilla, and shimmering with glazed sugar it's quite a dessert to present to your friends. Perfect on it's own or over waffles or ice cream, or maybe even a pie or tart filling, it's a heady and comforting dessert for summer.

Sauteed Vanilla Scented Apricots
What You'll Need...
6 apricots
3 tablespoons of brown sugar
1 or 2 vanilla beans (I used Madagascar variety beans)
1 1/2 tablespoons of butter

What You'll Do...
1) Wash the apricots. Remove the stones from the apricots, and cut into quarters.

2) Warm a saute or fry pan over medium heat and melt the butter. Split a vanilla bean in half and scrape out the seeds. Throw the apricots, brown sugar, vanilla seeds and pod into the butter and stir. It will create a lot of juice the longer you saute.

3) Warm over medium-low heat for about 8-12 minutes or until you have them at a firmness you prefer. I like mine halfway firm, Rob let his share go a while longer till it was more of a sauce.

Note: These are the vanilla beans I used to make the vanilla sugar, afterward, I washed them off and let them dry overnight. I then chopped them up for some vanilla chips if I want to add vanilla bean flavor to some milk or cream for baking later.

Vanilla Bean & Black Cherry Cupcakes

When I decided to donate some cupcakes to the Happy Tails Bake Sale - which is going on June 7th at the Capitol Building by the way at 11th and L from 8am-3pm - I wanted to make something special. I've never sold any of my cupcakes before so I was nervous. These had always been made for friends, not for purchase, so I didn't want people feeling they had parted with their cash for an inferior product. On top of that, I had to work around the constraints of zero frosting as it would melt or spoil after many hours in the heat, if indeed they last that long. (And I hope they won't due to selling out too quickly.)

I had some vanilla sugar curing for about 2 weeks, and decided this was a good opportunity to use it. Plus after picking up a big bag of black cherries at the Farmer's Market, I decided these two classic cola flavors would be fabulous in a cupcake.

The vanilla sugar and vanilla infused milk really make them incredibly fragrant with their heady, floral vanilla-ness. The acidic and fruity bite of the black cherries acted as the perfect contrast both visually and tastefully. In lieu of frosting I simply sprinkled on some sugar to get a shiny and crusty sweet top, an idea I utilized in the White Wine Cupcake.

It's a perfect bake sale cupcake that adults and kids will enjoy and takes advantage of the great cherry crop that's coming in this year.

Vanilla Bean & Black Cherry Cupcakes
Makes 24 Cupcakes / 350 F oven

What You'll Do Before...

To make vanilla sugar, just split open a vanilla bean and place in a small jar. Fill the jar up with sugar and give it a shake every few days. The sugar will absorb the vanilla flavor. After two weeks, you have vanilla sugar. This is a great way to use vanilla beans you just used, just dry them out first and pop them in the jar. For this recipe, I just took the same bean from the sugar and used it in the milk. One bean should do it all.

Sure there is a bit of wait to this recipe, but good food takes time and vanilla sugar is nice to have around the house. It's addictive stuff once you have it, and can be used for Crema de Limoncello. If you don't have time for vanilla sugar, just add 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla extract to the recipe and use regular sugar. It won't be the same, but it will still be very tasty.

What You'll Need...
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter, room temperature
1 3/4 cups of vanilla sugar
3 large eggs, room temperature
2-1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder 1 teaspoon baking soda
pinch of salt
1 cup milk
1 vanilla bean
extra vanilla sugar
3/4 cup of pitted, chopped black cherries (preferably fresh)

What You'll Do...
1. Split open the vanilla bean and scrape out the seeds into the one cup of milk. Place over heat until bubbles form around the edge of the milk. Turn off the heat and whisk/stir lightly until the heat dissipates to prevent a film of milk forming on the top (ew). Let sit overnight.
2, Pit and chop some fresh cherries. Wear crappy clothes to avoid staining anything you care about. (Dried cherries or thawed frozen could work too.)
3. Beat butter on high until soft, about 30 seconds.
4. Add vanilla sugar. Beat on medium-high until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add eggs one at a time, beat for 30 seconds between each.
5. Whisk together flour, baking powder, and baking soda in a bowl. Measure out vanilla milk in a cup.
6. Add about a fourth of the flour to the butter/sugar mixture and beat to combine.
7. Add about one third the vanilla milk mixture and beat until combined.
8. Repeat above, alternating flour and milk and ending with the flour mixture.
9. Fold into the batter.
10. Scoop into cupcake papers about half to three-quarters full. Sprinkle lightly over the top with extra vanilla sugar.
9. Bake for 18 minutes until a cake tester comes out clean. Be sure to rotate the pan after the first 15 minutes to ensure even baking!

White Nectarine and Rhubarb Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting

It's about time we got to making fresh produce the star again! The winter has been long and harsh, but finally spring has taken its place here in Nor Cal. Rhubarb is starting show its ruby red stalks and a few stone fruit are beginning to show a bit early.

Rhubarb is one of my favorite things about the warm weather. I enjoy its color, its strong physique, its acerbic wit and sweet demeanor. It's truly a powerful piece of produce. No wonder then that I love to utilize it for coffee cakes, tarts, pies, and of course cupcakes.

This was originally going to be a rhubarb and peach cupcake, but we ran into a hiccup when I could find no peaches (really Nugget, you always have everything but the one ingredient I need), so I decided to substitute in some white nectarines instead which turned out to be wonderful.

The cake is very sweet, and with the fruit quite moist and dense. It almost reminds me of poundcake, but richer and almost fudgy in texture. The nectarines are sweet and create their own juices and syrups when pieced with a bite. The rhubarb adds nice color and a bit of sweet acid, while the cream cheese frosting has that delightful tang I so love with fruit.

It really was a fabulous cupcake, perfect for a lazy afternoon in the sun. I can't wait to use up the rest of that rhubarb!

White Nectarine And Rhubarb Cupcakes
Makes 12 cupcakes / 350 degree oven

What You'll Need...
1/2 cup of chopped rhubarb (2-3 stalks)
3 white nectarines
1 stick of butter, room temperature
1 cup of sugar
1 egg
1 egg yolk
1 cup of milk
1 1/3 cup of flour
1 teaspoon of baking powder
good pinch of salt

What You'll Do...
1) Preheat the over to 350 degrees. Cut the nectarines in half and remove the stone. Place cut side down into a baking dish and bake for 30 minutes, setting the oven to Roast for the last 5 minutes (this will loosen the flesh from the skin). The fruit should have a dark brown color to it. Let cool then scoop the flesh out of the skin, and discard the skins. Mash with a back of a fork.
2) Beat the butter for about 2 minutes until well creamed. Add the sugar and beat until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl halfway through.
3) Add the egg and egg yolk and beat for 45 seconds. Scrape down the sides and bottom of the bowl.
4) Combine flour, salt, and baking powder and sift together. Add some of the flour mixture, then some of the milk, alternating between dry-wet-dry and ending with the dry ingredients. Mix together until just combined.
5) Chop up the rhubarb and mix with 1 tablespoon of flour and coat well.
6) Fold the mashed cooked nectarines and the rhubarb into the batter. Scoop into cupcake papers.
7) Bake for about 15-18 minutes. Cupcakes will be dense, heavy, and moist. A toothpick should still come out clean (unless it hits nectarine). Let cool on a wire rack.

Cream Cheese Frosting
What You'll Need...
1/4 cup of butter (1/2 a stick), room temperature
4 oz of Philly cream cheese (1/2 package), room temperature
2 cups of powdered sugar
1/2 - 1 teaspoon vanilla extract (taste as you go)

What You'll Do...
1) Cream the butter and cream cheese together, about 3 minutes. Scraped down the sides and bottom.
2) Slowly add the powdered sugar. Add the vanilla to taste. Spread on cooled cupcakes.