rosemary focaccia with pear and chèvre

Compared with other yeast breads, focaccia is relatively simple to prepare. But isn't always the simplest preparations that yield the the most pure, delicious results? On a recent trip to San Francisco, so impressed was I by the beautiful sheets of focaccia at Liguria Bakery in North Beach, that I was inspired to whip up a batch of my own creation. And just in time for this month's CLICK challenge, which calls for flour as the main culinary ingredient. CLICK is a monthly theme-based food photography event organized by Jugalbandi that gives food photographers, and not necessarily cooks, to highlight their work. March's theme is metal!


In addition to sprigs of fresh rosemary and slivers of local pears, I decided to pay homage to the beautifully-crafted cheeses of California. One of my top-pick fromageries from the West coast is Cypress Grove, a maker of fine goat's milk cheeses, ranging from fresh chèvres to aged, firm cheeses. My favorites include Humboldt Fog and the Lambchopper. For this focaccia, I chose a floral-flavored soft chèvre, Purple Haze. Rolled in lavender and fennel pollen, it's an extremely creamy goat cheese, both sweet and fragrant. I also like to eat this spread on a toast, with honey or marmalade.


The focaccia turned out beautifully, but could have risen a bit more. Next time, I will use more flour and yeast than was called for. Besides getting to eat the focaccia - another upside, the perfume of baking bread and rosemary permeated my tiny apartment.

Rosemary Focaccia with Pear and Chèvre
yields one 11"x17" sheet

The recipe for the focaccia base is from Rose Levy-Beranbaum's The Bread Bible, a good introduction for any wannabe artisan bread baker. Like I mentioned, I will make some changes to the recipe for next time- by adding 1/2 cup more flour, and probably 1/2 teaspoon more of yeast.

13.6 ounces (2 3/4 cups) unbleached all purpose flour
3/8 tsp instant yeast
2 cups minus 2 Tbsp water, 70F-90F
2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
3/4 tsp sugar
3/4 tsp salt

2 tsp fresh rosemary needles
1 pear, cut into 1/4" slices
1/3 cup crumbled chevre
coarse sea salt

1. In a mixing bowl, combine flour and yeast. Gradually add the water until the dough comes together. It will be very soupy. Keep kneading, or beating with a mixer, until the dough is transformed into a smooth, shiny ball, about 20 minutes. Add the sugar and salt and beat until well incorporated, about 3 minutes.

2. Using a dough scraper, scrape the dough into a 1 1/2 quart bowl, lightly greased. Lightly oil the top of the dough. Cover with a lid or plastic wrap. Allow the dough to rise (at 75F to 80F) for about 4 hours or until it has at least doubled.

3. Coat a 11"x17" sheet pan with 1 Tbsp of olive oil. Pour the dough onto it- it will be thin enough to pour but very stretchy. Spread the dough out as thin as possible without tearing it. Let it relax for 10 minutes, then spread it to fill the entire sheet, trying to maintain the bubbles in the dough. Cover the pan with greased plastic wrap and allow to rise 1 1/2 times its original volume, about 1 hour.

4. Preheat the oven to 475F 1 hour before baking. Have an oven shelf at the lowest level and place a baking stone on it before preheating.

5. Uncover the dough and drizzle the remaining olive oil evenly over it. Sprinkle evenly with rosemary, pears, chevre and sea salt. Place the pan directly on the hot stone and bake for 12-13 minutes or until the top is golden. Remove from the oven and drizzle on a little extra olive oil, if desired. Serve immediately.

the incredible (hard-boiled) egg

This is Monsieur Jacques Pepin's fail-proof way of making hard-boiled eggs. He states some common problems with badly boiled eggs:

-unpleasant sulfur gas smell
-tough whites
-greenish hue around the yolk

To prevent this, Pepin advises to simply prick a hole in the shell at the wide end of the egg, through the small air pocket. This can be done with a sewing needle, or a pushpin.Place an egg in a saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, and turn heat down to low. Simmer for 3-5 minutes, depending on the size of the egg (medium to jumbo). Turn heat off, cover the pot, and let sit for about 5 minutes. Pour the water out, and shake the egg in the pot, allowing it to bang up against the sides to help crack the shell. Place the egg in a bowl of cold or ice water. After they have cooled down, peel the egg in the water.

Pricking the shells allows pressure to equalize and gases to escape during the cooking process. Cooking over a low heat and finally, allowing them to steep in the hot water, yields a tender white and a creamy yolk. The final soak in the cold water lets water rush in under the shell to facilitate peeling.

grapefruit cake with honey cream

What a week.

It's been the week of disappointing desserts in my kitchen. I won't fill you in on all the details, but just picture curdled eggs in custards, and seized-up chocolate batters. I really needed something comforting to turn to, and that for me is soft, spongy chiffon cakes. Lucky for me, as when I opened up my issue of Gourmet this week, I saw a recipe for Meyer Lemon Cake with Lavendar Cream. Well, I had neither Meyer lemons nor lavendar on hand, but I did have a nice big grapefruit and a delicious jar of honey that I picked up from work. So I gave it a go.

And wouldn't you know, it looked nothing like the picture in the magazine. It didn't rise up very well into a nice poofy domed shape. Instead, it came out looking like a torte. (Next time, I will use a smaller than a 9" springform pan.) The taste-test, however, reaffirmed my faith in magazine recipes. Like a chiffon cake, it was light and spongy. The generous portion of olive oil in the batter added a nice richness that balanced out the tang of the lemon curd. My honey pastry cream was runnier than I'd like, probably because I hadn't chilled it long enough.


All in all, it was a gorgeously rustic cake, with delicious citrus flavors. I can't complain. I got to have my cake and eat it too.


Grapefruit Cake with Honey Cream
adapted from Gourmet, March 2008
serves 8

CAKE:
5 large eggs, separated
3/4 cup sugar, divided
3/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp grated grapefruit zest
1/4 cup fresh squeezed grapefruit juice
1 cup cake flour
1/2 tsp salt

LEMON CURD:
1/2 cup plus 1 Tbsp sugar
3 Tbsp flour
1/2 tsp salt
1 tsp lemon zest
3/4 cup lemon juice
1 large egg yolk
1 Tbsp unsalted butter

HONEY PASTRY CREAM:
1 cup whole milk
6 Tbsp honey
3 egg yolks
2 heaping Tbsp corn starch
pinch salt
2 Tbsp unsalted butter

1. Cake: Preheat oven to 325F. Line the bottom of a 9" springform pan with parchment paper. Butter the paper and the sides of the pan. Set aside.

2. Beat together egg yolks with 1/2 cup sugar until pale and thick, about 3 minutes. At medium speed, beat in oil, and grapefruit zest and juice until just combined. Sift in flour and mix at low speed until just combined.

3. Beat whites in another bowl until foamy, and add in the remaining 1/4 cup sugar a little at a time. Beat until whites just hold soft peaks. Fold in 1/3 of whites into the yolk mixture to lighten, then fold in remaining whites gently. Transfer batter to the prepared pan, and bake 40-45 minutes until golden brown. Remove, cool for 10 minutes, release the sides, and let come to room temperature.

4. Lemon Curd: Whisk together sugar, flour, and salt in a small heavy saucepan, then add lemon juice in a slow stream, whisking until combined. Bring to a boil, whisking constantly, then simmer, whisking, until thickened, about 3 minutes. Remove from heat.

5. Whisk yolk in a small bowl, then add about one fourth of lemon-juice mixture, whisking vigorously. Whisk into remaining lemon-juice mixture and gently boil, whisking, 1 minute. Remove from heat and stir in butter and zest. Transfer filling to a bowl and cover surface with buttered parchment paper. Chill until cool, at least 30 minutes.

6. Pastry cream: Heat milk and honey in a heavy saucepan over medium heat, stirring to dissolve the honey, until almost simmering.

7. In a bowl, whisk the egg yolks with the corn starch and pinch of salt until the mixture is pale yellow and thick. Spoon some of the hot milk mixture into the egg yolks while whisking to temper the egg yolks. When blended, pour this back into the saucepan, constantly whisking. Continue stirring over low heat for another minute, and stir in the butter, one tablespoon at a time.

8. Strain the cream into a bowl to remove any lumps. Cover the cream with a piece of plastic wrap pressed directly onto the surface (to prevent a skin from forming) and chill for at least 4 hours.

9. Assembling: Cut the cake horizontally into 2 even layers (3 if your cake is tall enough). Spread a thin layer of lemon curd on the first layer, leaving a 1/2" border around the edge. Spread a thicker layer of pastry cream over this. Top with the next cake layer. (Repeat if necessary, for 3 layer cake.) Press down gently so that the fillings can spread out to the edges. Dust with powdered sugar.

millet oatmeal with golden raisins

a big bowl of morning comfort

millet - golden grains of nuttiness

I grew up eating congee everyday for breakfast, and on some days for lunch and dinner too. Congee is Chinese rice porridge, usually made with short grain white rice, but can vary from black rice to mung beans. On special occasions, my grandfather would mix in a handful of millet into the steamed rice or congee. (Since it's not as prevalent as rice, it is slightly more expensive.) It added a nuttiness to the sweetness of the rice.

Millet is high in lysine, vitamin B, and iron. It's also a gluten-free whole grain. Which makes it perfect food to jump start the day. For the current Weekend Breakfast Blogging challenge,
I made a warm bowl of millet oatmeal, drizzled with honey and topped with toasted pecans. It's a twist on your average bowl of instant oatmeal, with another layer of flavor and texture.



Millet Oatmeal with Golden Raisins
serves 2

1/3 cup millet
1/3 cup steel-cut oats
3 cups water
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup milk
pinch salt
honey and toasted pecans, for topping

1. The night before, bring water to a boil in a heavy saucepan. Turn the heat off, and stir in the millet and oats. Cover and let sit overnight.

2. The next morning, add the salt and bring to a boil. Turn the heat down to low to simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the grains are tender.

3. Stir in the raisins and milk and cook for another 3-5 minutes. You can add more water or milk at this point, if you prefer a thinner consistency. Spoon into bowls, drizzle with honey, and sprinkle with pecans.

braised red cabbage

Count on Thomas Keller to fancify any rustic, traditionally peasant food. In this case, cabbage. Braised cabbage is incredibly comforting to eat, and a perfect accompaniment to sturdier cuts of meat like pork and lamb. What caught my eye about this recipe was its simplicity, its honest to goodness ingredients, and pared down preparation, which is surprisingly very un-Keller. At the French Laundry, he pairs this side dish with pan-fried skate and a creamy mustard sauce. Tonight, I served mine with grilled pork chops that I had brined for about two days, and slices of crusty sourdough bread.

The cabbage is slow cooked, which yields a fantastic creamy texture, not even in the slightest reminiscent of the tough, crunchy cabbage that you begin with. The flavors and seasonings are delicate, which really let the intrinsic cabbage flavor shine. No mustard, caraway, or vinegar are added. The only acid is a good red wine. Make sure to have a good part of your afternoon open to monitor its cooking. You'll be glad you did when your kitchen fills with the warmth of these aromas. Here's another shoutout to Mr. TK. You haven't disappointed me yet!



Braised Red Cabbage
from The French Laundry Cookbook

small head of red cabbage, about 1 1/2 lbs.
1 1/2 cup dry red wine
2 Tbsp duck fat, or unsalted butter
1 cup diced red onion (1/4")
1/2 cup finely grated apple (I used Gala)
1/2 cup veal, chicken, or vegetable stock
4 tsp honey, preferably wildflower honey
1 cup finely grated peeled russet potato
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper

1. Remove the thick ribs from the cabbage and cut the leaves into 1/4" strips. Place the cabbage and red wine in a large bowl, cover and refrigerate overnight.

2. The next day, preheat oven to 350F.

3. In a deep Dutch oven, warm the butter over medium-low heat. Add the red onion and cook until it begins to release its liquid, about 5 minutes. Stir in the cabbage, marinating liquid, apples and stock. Mix well, partially cover with the lid, and place in the oven. Bake for 2 hours, stirring, every 30 minutes or so.

4. Remove the pot from oven, and stir in the potato and honey to combine. If the mixture looks dry, stir in no more than 1/2 cup of water or stock. Recover loosely with the lid, return to oven, and bake for another 30-45 minutes. The cabbage will be very tender and noticeably creamy.

5. Season to taste with salt and pepper. The cabbage can be stored, covered, in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.

flourless chocolate pear torte

Second to a chocolate bar, flourless chocolate cake is the next best way of delivering the highest percentage of chocolate (with the best chocolate to weight ratio) straight to your veins. Who needs all that starchy filler they call flour? Surely not me. Give me this dense, calorie-laden dessert. A girl like me doesn't need much.


The pear? Well, that was on a whimsy. They were originally supposed to have been caramelized bananas, but alas, there were none to be found on hand. Which was all for the better, because pear and chocolate are like two long lost lovers. Their flavors marry well together, with the fragrant pear perfectly complementing the deep earthiness of the chocolate. Pear works well with white chocolate also, but that's not really chocolate now, is it?

Just because it's past Valentine's Day doesn't mean we should lessen our chocolate intake. There's a reason to eat it everyday; hey, dark chocolate has been scientifically proven to be really good for our health. And our sanity.

a base layer of delicious seasonal pears

Flourless Chocolate Pear Torte
yields a 9" torte

Use a high quality bittersweet chocolate, or else it's really not worth making at all. I prefer Bosc pears; they have a much cleaner, sweeter taste. The powdered sugar decoration is purely optional. You can create the same effect by cutting out shapes in parchment, laying them over the cooled torte, and generously sprinkling the sugar over it.

10 oz. sugar
12 oz. bittersweet chocolate, roughly chopped
6 eggs
2 3/4 sticks unsalted butter, cut into 1" pieces
2 Tbsp espresso, or brandy (optional)
1 pear, peeled and cored
1 tsp ground cinnamon
powdered sugar, for decorating

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Line the bottom of a 9" springform pan with parchment paper. Butter the sides, and wrap 2 layers of foil around the outside of the pan, in preparation for the water bath. Set in the middle of a large roasting pan.

2. Whip the eggs until they double in volume, about 5 minutes. Set aside.

3. In a double boiler, melt the chocolate. When it is completely melted down, stir in the sugar and butter. Continue melting until you obtain a smooth, lustrous consistency. Remove from heat. Stir in the espresso or brandy.

4. Slice the pear, vertically, into 12 pieces. Lay them in a circle at the bottom of the prepared springform pan. Sprinkle evenly with ground cinnamon.

5. Gently fold the whipped eggs into the melted chocolate mixture, in 3 steps. Be sure the batter is well blended. Pour over the pears, into the pan. Pour enough boiling water into the roasting pan, so that the water comes up halfway up the sides of the springform pan.

6. Bake for 35-40 minutes, until the top of the torte is set, but still slightly wobbly. Remove from the oven and cool to room temperature. Cover and chill in the refrigerator overnight. Loosen the torte from the pan, invert to remove the parchment paper, and reinvert onto a serving dish. Decorate as needed.

woodberry kitchen

There's a new kind of creature in town, and it's called the locavore. It prefers to surround itself in a sustainable, organic habitat, subsisting on locally grown foods, and leaving the slightest carbon footprint as could be. The recently opened Woodberry Kitchen is a watering spot where you can find a handful of these creatures on any given night. More than a handful really, because this gem of a restaurant is almost always packed. And certainly justified, as the quality and freshness of the menu selections are beyond reproach.

Seasonality and locale are the key factors that determine what items make their way onto this forthright and uncomplicated menu. From snacks to oysters to supper, local greens and free range meats are well highlighted. What is refreshing is that every ingredient has a story to tell, of where and whence it came from, of how it was treated during its lifetime, and the few and proud hands it passed through to land on your plate. There's a true and bright transparency to them, and to the mission of the creators of Woodberry Kitchen. What results is a unique approach to the dinnertable, linking us to a community of farmers and producers, and ultimately reinvigorating the most apathetic of palates.

And so, for Mr.S's very recent birthday dinner, I (very difficultly) made a reservation at this hotspot in Clipper Mill. We instantly felt the energy of the place, the warmth and vibrance that was felt in every corner. There are spectacular views of the whole restaurant and the open kitchen from the lofted areas on the second floor, which is where we found ourselves, happily admiring all the antique pieces on display throughout the place. Our server brought us a hunk of artisan bread from a communal cart, which was delicious (the bread, not the cart).

My apple martini was unlike anything I've had. Forget about the green apple Pucker and scary alien glow! Woodberry infuses their own apple vodka for this drink, making it wonderfully layered in taste and quite potent. Mr.S had the Wolaver organically brewed IPA, which was good, if you're into hoppy beers. We had a hard time deciding on starters. I wanted the Buchanan Valley pears with buckwheat honey and the deviled eggs; he wanted the pork buns with onion relish. We compromised on the pear and goat cheese flatbread, and the roasted beets salad.

a real apple martini

The beets were tender and sweet, topped with a quenelle of whipped goat cheese, as light as mousse. The flatbread really made our night, if not our whole week. Phenomenally delicate from the brick oven, it was topped with sweet pears, a sprinkling of chevre, and fresh basil. It was difficult, but I had to let him have the last piece... it was his birthday, after all.


My cast-iron roast chicken was a little fella from Springfield Farms, juicy with perfectly crispy skin, tucked into a pile of creamy grits and swiss chard. I was disappointed it hadn't arrived at the table in a cast-iron pan; it'd have made for a much better presentation. Albeit, the meat was savory and tender, and tasted like a chicken should. Mr.S's "kitchen burger" was good as well, and the onion jam it came with was wonderfully caramelized. The fries came in a small paper pouch and were just so-so. An added plus were the red onions on the plate. Instead of being raw, they were pickled, a perfect complement to the beef.


We skipped dessert, since there was a nice big Jewish apple cake waiting for us at home. There were an assortment of specials that night, including lemon semolina pudding cake, black tea ice cream, and burnt orange sorbet.

In addition to the meat dishes, Woodberry offers a good selection for vegetarians. There are salads to start, crisp cheesy flatbreads, roast vegetables with cheddar dumplings, shellbeans and gold rice, amongst others. It was one of the better meals we've had in a long time, both comforting and refreshing at the same time. This whole eating local trend is a good thing, a much needed movement if we want to see our own food chains within our communities grow and strengthen. And the food tastes like it should, which is quite revelatory. So let's not make it a trend, because that would be tragically hip, wouldn't it? Let's support it and the people who are part of the chain; there's a strong moral fiber that holds it all together. Jump on the locavore wagon; it's a delicious ride.



Woodberry Kitchen
2010 Clipper Park Road
No.126
Baltimore, MD 21211

chick & ruth's delly

Annapolis is just a hop, skip, and a jump away from Baltimore, a quick drive down I-97, and there you are, in the state's capital. It's really quite beautiful, on a nice day, walking by the water along cobblestone roads and alleys, surrounded by historical buildings, and of course, lots of tourists. That to me, is the only drawback, but a quick day-trip is lovely as always.

Mr.S and I had a late lunch at Chick & Ruth's Delly, a diner and deli right on Main St. It's somewhat of an institution with locals, having existed now for decades and decades. Whatever you're in the mood for, they'll most likely have, as the menu offers breakfast, lunch and dinner selections all day. They're most known for their deli sandwiches, amusingly, all named after politicians (The Dick Cheney is chicken salad with lettuce on wheat toast) and the Colossal Sandwiches piled dangerously high, with enough corned beef and pastrami to feed 6 people! Deciding to opt out on the coronary disease, we ordered some simple hearty dishes that really hit the spot.

breakfast served all day

turkey Reuben

Mr.S got the Attorney General Doug Gansler, a turkey reuben on rye, with fries. I always enjoy a good fried egg with toast, and on a whim, ordered a side of grits. There was surely nothing to complain about seeing as we both cleaned our plates. The best part was the small tub of complimentary dill pickles you get at the start, all crispy and tangy, definitely homemade.


Don't expect to make and close any insider deals here. You're literally inches away from the diners at the table next to you. Feeling neighborly? It's all part of the fun here. And fun, it is. Perhaps next time I go back, I'll have an appetite large enough to accommodate 5 pounds of deli meats!


Chick & Ruth's Delly
165 Main Street
Annapolis, MD 21401

jewish apple cake

The first time I'd heard of Jewish apple cake was when I had first started dating Mr.S, I'd asked him what his favorite cake was. Being born and bred in Baltimore, he told me "Jewish apple cake, of course," followed by all sorts of drooling noises and eyes rolling back into his head. As I'd soon discover, like Scrapple, this cake is a regional favorite, being quite popular in bakehouses all over Philadelphia to here in Baltimore. It's an incredibly moist bundt cake, filled and topped with a layer of cinnamon-dusted apple slices. Once I got a whif of this cake, I could easily understand Mr.S's reaction of unrestrained excitement.

So how and why is it Jewish? No one is exactly certain surrounding the origins of the cake (except that it is most likely from Eastern Europe), but it's very similar to an apple cake that's served during Rosh Hashanah. Moreover, the recipe is completely dairy-free, calling for vegetable oil instead of butter, and orange juice instead of milk. Overall, it's a guaranteed fool-proof recipe that will turn out some of the best apple cake you'll ever have. The orange juice flavors the cake with a fragrance that's not tart like lemon, but much sweeter, which accents the apples perfectly. What's more, the apples keep the cake super moist for days.


I bake a huge 10" bundt cake every year now for Mr.S's birthday. I'm sure the recipe can be broken down into smaller amounts for individual Jewish apple cakes (great or gift giving) and cupcakes. Whole Foods sells a small 6" one which I've never tried, because they always look slightly smushed and bruised from the packaging. Besides, why spend $7 on a cake you can so easily bake at home, with ingredients you probably already have in your pantry? (If anyone knows of a local bakery that offers mind-blowing Jewish apple cake, please drop me a line.)

Jewish Apple Cake
makes one 10" bundt cake

CAKE:
3 cups flour
2 1/2 cups sugar
3 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
4 eggs
1 cup vegetable oil
1/2 cup orange juice
1 Tbsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp cinnamon

APPLES:
3 apples, peeled, cored and sliced
3 Tbsp sugar
2 tsp cinnamon

1. Preheat oven to 350F. Grease and flour a 10" bundt pan.

2. In a large bowl, gently toss together the apple slices with the 3 Tbsp of sugar and 2 tsp of cinnamon. Set aside.

3. In a mixer bowl, combine all the cake ingredients and beat until well blended, about 1 minute. Pour half the batter into the prepared pan. Arrange half the apples in a layer over the batter. Pour the rest of the batter into the pan to cover the apples. Finish off by arranging the remaining apples in a layer on top.

4. Bake for 1 hour 15 minutes or until the cake turns golden brown. A knife inserted in the center should come out clean. Let cake cool in the pan. Run a knife around the edges to loosen the cake and gently invert out onto a plate. Re-invert onto a serving dish. Dust with powdered sugar.

"eight treasures" rice pudding

The Chinese New Year was this past week, and I was with my parents, celebrating in the only way we know... with gluttonous amounts of food! There are a few traditional dishes we eat on New Year's day that are also served in every household all over Northern China. These include:

pork dumplings (always boiled, not pan-fried)
steamed fish with ginger and scallion (for luck in the new year)
cold noodle salad (for longevity)
Northern Chinese style chopped salad
stewed red dates
steamed "pearl" balls (minced pork meatballs covered in sticky rice)
Ba Bao Fan (eight treasures rice pudding)

There's a story or a meaning to every dish that's served on New Year's. Most are meant to bring fortune and happiness, much luck and many sons. Eight is an auspicious number in Chinese culture (it rhymes with the Chinese word for wealth). Congee is often served mixed with eight different ingredients, as well as teas, tapioca soups, and rice pudding. These eight ingredients can be a medley of all sorts of dried fruits and nuts, but there are the traditional selections, all meant to balance the yin and the yang in the body when eaten. These include:

dried lily bulbs
red dates (jujubes)
dried longan (a fruit)
lotus seeds
red beans
mung beans
goji berries
peanuts
pinenuts
walnuts

Of course, some of these many not be easily obtainable, so other ingredients can be substituted like dried cranberries, apricots, raisins, and pecans.

My mom makes this version of sticky rice pudding, with layer after layer of rice and sweet nuts and fruits. No matter how many ingredients you use, this dish will always be called Eight Treasures Rice Pudding, so don't fret if you can't find all the traditional dried goods. This dish is even better the second day, warmed up in the microwave, sticky and gooey for a wholesome breakfast.

Mom's "Eight Treasures" Rice Pudding

2 cups glutinous rice
3 Tbsp honey
vegetable oil, for greasing the bowl

OTHER LAYERS**:
1 can red bean paste
1/2 cup red dates, soaked overnight, chopped into bitesize pieces
1/2 cup toasted pinenuts
1/3 cup dried cranberries
1/2 cup raisins
1/3 cup goji berries, soaked overnight

**you can use any medley of dried fruits and nuts of your choice (see list above)

1. Steam the glutinous rice in a rice maker with 2 cups of water. Once done, let cool, and mix in the honey. Set aside.

2. Grease with the oil a deep ceramic bowl, or a pudding mold, if you have one. Sprinkle a handful of dried nuts and fruits at the bottom, and cover with a thin layer of the cooled rice. Smear on a layer of red bean paste, and top with another handful of nuts and fruits. Repeat the process until the bowl is full.

3. Cover with a plate and refrigerate for up to 2 hours. Set another heavy bowl on top to press together the layers of rice. When ready, invert the rice out onto a serving plate. Serve with sugar or honey.

korean potato salad

Why Yes! Asians eat mayonnaise too! Especially Japanese and Koreans, who are probably more familiar with the Hellman's brand than any middle class American family. Similarly, they use something called Kewpie mayonnaise, which is much akin to its western brethren, but contains a whole lot more sugar, stabilizers, and comes in a convenient squeeze bottle with a star-shaped tip. You know, for whenever you get the hankering to decorate some deli meat, or a hand roll. This ubiquitous condiment is used mainly as a binder for salads, with the most common being Korean or Japanese style potato salads. (There's also a popular Korean fruit salad dish that uses mayo as a dressing.)

Have you ever sat down at a Korean restaurant to be happily greeted with dozens of small plates of cold dishes and snacks, even before you've even ordered? These are called panchan, and are usually highly seasoned, spicy/sweet and sour, to stimulate the appetite. Some more popular ones are of course, kimchi, bean sprouts salad, wheat gluten, cold cucumber salad, fried soybeans, seaweed salad, and mashed potato salad. This last dish may seem oddly out of place with all of its creamy, fatty gloriousness, but is in fact, quite common in Korean households. In a culture where most of the ingredients are fresh, healthy and discernible, I suppose they can get away with splurging on one that's the complete opposite.


Korean Potato Salad

1 lb. potatoes
1/2 cucumber, sliced lengthwise
1/2 yellow or Spanish onion
1 carrot
1/2 cup mayonnaise or Kewpie
1 tsp sugar
salt and pepper, to taste

1. Peel the potatoes and roughly cut into 1" pieces. Put into a pot, cover with water and boil until fork-tender, about 10 minutes. Place the carrot, whole, into the pot as well.

2. Meanwhile, thinly slice the cucumber and set aside. Slice the onion into thin rings and soak in a bowl of cold water.

3. Drain and roughly mash the potatoes, leaving some large bite-size pieces. Let cool. Dice the carrot into 1/4" cubes. Drain and pat dry the onion slices.

4. Add the carrots, onion, cucumber, mayo, and sugar to the potatoes and mix well. Season with salt and pepper.

my favorite swirl

If only I could say Yum-O! without being completely mortified with myself. Well then that's most probably the terminology I would use to describe this scrumptious treat.

My all-time favorite bakery is in Vienna, Virginia (where I'm from) called Cenan's, with the most delectable selection of scones, muffins, croissants, mini brioche, cookies, and cakes. My knees literally go weak when I walk in this store. I remember during high school, I'd skip class just to come get a pressed chicken panini sandwich. Everything in handmade, including a large counter stacked with artisanal breads, all crusty and densely laden with whole grains, fruits and nuts. Amongst the shelves, you can find imported coffees, olive oils, spreads and grains, along with house-made dips (smoked salmon, hummus, artichoke), fresh fetas and suchuk, an aged Turkish sausage.

The cinnamon swirl is a must-try, must-buy. The size of a baby's head, it is thousands of flaky, buttery layers of the most tender pastry, swathed in a dusting of cinnamon, and finally rolled in a thick layer of fine sugar. And, it's only $1.90!

If you ever find yourself in the neighborhood, try this, a walnut-orange-cranberry scone, a chocolate croissant, any of the panini sandwiches, a cup of aromatic Turkish coffee, and a piece of the creamiest tiramisu cake you'll ever have in your entire lifetime. And make sure to bring home a loaf of the raisin-pecan sourdough and a large square of fluffy foccacia.


Cenan's Bakery
122 Branch Road, SE
Vienna, VA 22180