Christmukah Miracles

There's always a lot of talk of Christmas miracles. There are dozens of famous films, books, and made-for-tv-movies dedicated to the subject. I know that I'm in desperate need of a personal Christmas miracle myself. While Adam Sandler sings of "8 Crazy Nights", for me, December will have had 31 by the time it wraps up at midnight tomorrow night.

With 18 nights out in a row before flying back to the US to visit friends and family, I followed this up with the past week and a half of family/friends/latkes fried in oil, nightly drinking, tortes, paté and excessive amounts of chocolate.

When I fly back to London next week, I'm resigned to my luggage being overweight with all of Santa's goodies, but what I'm really hoping for is that I'm not over the weight limit.

The first weekend of December was spent in the Christmas Markets of beautiful Vienna with the wonderful IS, KS, & VF. The tickets had been booked since the summer with the sole purpose of soaking up some of the festive holiday cheer. Quite literally the only plans for the weekend were to 'eat, drink and be merry.' And that's what we did, with gusto and aplomb. I'd like to report that the deliciouso list of food below was not all eaten by me - but shared amongst the four of us...not that that necessarily makes things much better. After a weekend of 'eating, drinking, and being merry', I still forced myself up to head to the gym at 5 am before work that following Monday morning.

Our first night at a local Keller:
Bratwurst mit Kartoffelsalat (roast sausage with potato salad)
Wiener Schnitzel mit Bratkartoffeln (turkey cutlet vienna style with roast potatoes)
Sauerkraut
Weinschorle (wine spritzer)

At our first Weihnachtsmarkt:
Mohnkuchen (poppy seed cake)
Krapfen or Berliner (doughnut concoction)

At our second Weihnachtsmarkt:
Kaesekrainer (sausage with cheese)

At the Cafe Demel:
Apfelstrudel (apple strudel)
Wiener Melange (Viennese cappuccino)
Kleiner Brauner (espresso with whipped cream)

At the Schoenbrunn:
Lauch und Speckfleckerl (pasta with leeks and bacon)
Kartoffelpuffer (potato pancakes) mit Apfelmus (with apple sauce)
Nuernberger Rostbratwuerste mit Bratkartoffeln (little sausages)
Kaiserschmarrn mit Pflaumenmus (fried dough with plum sauce)

Since I've been back in the States I'm probably thrown back my body weight in Christmas cookies, Harpoon Winter Warmer, red meat, and cheese. The only real saving grace? I've also been force feeding workouts into my system every 2-3 days and with only 24 hours to go - I might even get that Miracle after all.

Celebrating Thanksgiving with the 'other' family

More than my friends, more than my family - the people I spend the most time with (for better or for worse) is my team at work. So, when the opportunity came up to celebrate Thanksgiving with them - it felt appropriate. There probably was less drama then if I'd actually been back in the States, Rugby and X-Factor replaced Football and American Idol, and while I'd orchestrated a menu that ticked all of the traditional boxes - it was my first Thanksgiving with home-made veggie samosas.

Hosted by AA & SC – I even had my fill of quirky 'relatives'. AK & AZ covered off the 'cousins' that you get on with really well, enjoy spending time with, but just don't get to see as often as you'd like. AA & YL, one the auntie and one the sister - both looking for just a little bit more gossip, EL - the brother to tease, and of course - no family dinner would be complete with out the 'crazy uncle' - the one that is just a little bit inappropriate - yep, that would be ZC..

Trick or Treat?

This week London seemed to skip over fall (there was snow and freezing temperatures) and land flat on her ass into winter. Never one to get her favourite season shortened by crap weather – I baked up some Pumpkin Cookies with Penuche frosting.

These little gems were simple to make and easy on the palate (4 different people thinking they tasted like mini carrot cakes). Funny how something orange and smelling of cinnamon can do that for some people? All of this aside, they were - without a doubt - the ugliest looking baked good ever.

I reduced the amount of flour in the recipe which resulted in a super duper moist cake-like cookie. However, the Penuche frosting was so rich that while initially holding its own like a little cookie yarmulke, by the time I transported them on the tube to eagerly awaiting friends – they’d become little blobs of goo. Luckily the smell was so enticing that everyone dove right in and snatched them up anyway – even managing to eat 4 or 5 at a time. There were certainly a few jokey comments of what they looked like, and I won't deny it – they did. I'm just happy no one was turned off by their appearance because really there would only have been one thing left to do. Eat them myself of course.

With the recipe I used, I reduced the flour by ½ cup but would recommend only doing so by ¼ cup. Also, be careful with the frosting – I ended up adding a ridiculous amount of sugar trying to get the consistency right (which might be necessary in order to get it to spreading consistency). Luckily the cookies aren’t too sweet so they make a nice pairing with the frosting.

Royal Mandarin, Uncle Cheung’s, Cherry Blossom – Realised.

Being a Reform American Jew – growing up meant Chinese food at least once a week, complete with chicken fingers, boneless spareribs and fried rice. Sunday nights at Uncle Cheung’s on Rt. 9 meant half of Temple Beth Am waiting patiently for a table.

I’m proud to say I’ve progressed from chicken fingers to Szechuan bean curd and sea bass with ginger and scallions. Still, I wouldn’t throw a Crab Rangoon out of bed for eating crackers, I can’t tell a lie.

Having recently spent two weeks in and about Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong, I’d done a fair bit of research early on. If I was going all that way, I wanted to make sure I’d hunted down the perfect Peking duck in Beijing (check), stuffed myself silly with dumplings in Shanghai (check-check), and scoped out the underbelly of the Chinese food we always read about (check-check-check). Even if I was too chicken to eat barbecue scorpions – I still wanted to see them.

Was the food everything I’d hoped for? Well, yes and no. While I did have some of the most delicious Chinese dishes I’ve ever had – not everything was as outstanding as I’d hoped for. I suppose not too surprising really since I was eating it nearly every day for lunch and dinner (there was a mini break down towards the end of week one where I needed to eat Fries like it was nobodies business – if I saw one more grain of rice I was going to flip out). So fries for lunch – and then I was ready to go back to rice for dinner.

For years I’d heard that Chinese food in China is completely different from Chinese food in America (or England). And while I’ll not take the time to lament the differences between American and British Chinese food (the latter using significantly more vinegar), I can attest to some of the main differences between ‘real’ and ‘fake’ (aka Western) Chinese food.

With not a chicken wing or General named Tso’s in site, one thing I found was that just like the US (and even more so) China is huge with drastically different regional cuisine. Granted I spent my time in the ‘touristy’ Eastern cities, but I still happened upon a number of different dishes. I gave the sheep’s penis a pass – but fought JB for the last piece of gorgeous braised pork we got when visiting the canal town of Zhou Zhuang.

The soup filled dumplings (pork being my personal favourite) was another treat I’d never come across before (although apparently there are a few spots in NYC where you can get some good ones). I’d originally thought that they always had to be fresh – as how could you really make them ahead of time with the soup inside such a thin but fluffy dumpling skin. However, in my reading I came across the secret whereby they use gelatine in the soup - and it’s only when they are heated that it turns soup like. Eating these little jewels is a bit of an art form and I’d be lying if a few of them didn’t result in a ricochet of soup squirting across the table or occasionally onto my lap. I got there in the end though – looked like a pro, I’m sure.

The highlight of my food adventure in China would be, without a doubt the Peking duck which I had at a restaurant called “Made in China” (ridiculous name, I know) in Beijing. So enamoured and star-struck was I by this perfect specimen that ACB and I actually went back 2 out of 3 nights in the city. Considering we’d made a long list of fabulous sounding restaurants we wanted to try – it shows just how amazing this duck was.

As I ate it there was literally a halo of happiness emanating from me. All I could think of was that if this was how Peking duck was meant to taste – then I’d always had a poor imitation of the real thing. Served with the typical hoisin (plum) sauce, cucumbers and green onions – it was also served with a piquant garlic sauce and granulated sugar to put on the skin and in the pancake before eating.

As someone who has always listed Peking duck as a guilty pleasure and one of my favourite meals I’ve been both spoiled rotten and ruined for life, for I’m not sure I’ll ever have any which is nearly as good or as addictive. I suppose that just means I’ll be back to Beijing for it. Ah, maybe that’s part of their master plan?

Birthday Parties

The past few days I’ve realised that no matter what sh$t has been thrown my way in the past year, I am truly blessed with some of the most remarkable and wonderful friends a gal could ever ask for.

Celebrating my (ahem) 29th birthday on Thursday with the lovely AW, we drank fabulous cocktails at Milk and Honey (I had a Bison Sour which while strange sounding on the menu - vodka, lemon, sugar, egg white and cinnamon - when served was a glass of yumminess). It was sweet and tart and always a sucker for texture – loved the strange cappuccino like froth at the top. We continued our tour of Soho by moving on to dinner at Arbutus. Hands down the highlight of dinner was the company and chat, but giving credit where credit is due, I need to give a shout out to the starter that AW and I shared: Roasted squash with fresh sheeps ricotta, air dried ham, & fragolina grapes. We were questioning our decision on sharing once we’d taken the first bite.

After Thursday night the party bus pulled into a rest stop. On Saturday though, it refueled and picked up 10 of my nearest and dearest for an absolutely perfect Saturday night.

Celebrating with my London A-list – I’d booked us into Wodka. An Eastern European restaurant, I knew I’d chosen wisely when I saw the dishes of pickles adorning the tables. Also, they’d sorted out a square table (instead of the typical rectangle) so we were able to see and chat with each other without too much effort. Plus, it made the vodka shot drinking that much easier.

Wodka sells over 40 vodkas (half of which are homemade) which are sold by the shot, 1/2 or whole carafe. Introducing my friends to the Russian tradition of starting a meal with a shot of vodka chased by a pickle - I'd definitely converted a few tequila shot drinkers before the night was through.

Delicious food aside, throughout the night I also managed to try the following homemade vodkas (listed in order of preference).

- Strawberry
- Spiced Orange
- Vanilla
- Pear
- Flowers and Herbs

For dins I shared a few starters with LM & RL but absolutely loved my main course of Golonka, a roasted pork shank with sauerkraut. It was simply prepared but the most tender and fat-free pork I’ve ever eaten. Moist but slightly crunchy on the outside, it also worked really well with the vodka because unlike some of the other dishes - there wasn’t a heavy sauce to distract me.

The 11 of us ordered 4 desserts, 3 of which I really enjoyed. Leading up the pack were a homemade cinnamon ice cream and a white chocolate cheesecake which was gobbled right up (so fast that both RL and I managed to end up with a bit of candle in our mouth - the cheesecake having been the conduit of my Happy Birthday candles). The third dessert which I loved simply from a nostalgia perspective was the Nalesniki – Crepes (or as the menu stated – ‘Crapes’) filled with sweet cheese, raisons, and almonds. Basically a glorified blintz – but so good.

At the end of the day I picked a great Birthday venue - from the atmosphere and the drink selection, table set up and food. However, give me my friends and a dozen Burger King whoppers and I would have been just as happy. Hehe.

Bake Sale

Except for a brief stint playing Maria in Joey and Maria’s Comedy Italian Wedding way back when, this week’s cupcake making extravaganza was the best time I’ve ever had making money. A few weeks back a friend of a friend contacted me about making some sort of cake for a product launch party. We played a bit of phone tag as we were both in and out of the country traveling, but all I knew from her messages was that she was looking for a purplish-lilac coloured cake.

Now a delicious cake with purple frosting I could do, but did she want a massive sheet cake with a big purple dinosaur? My commission definitely wasn't happening if it was.

We finally touched base about 7 pm on Tuesday night. No, a big purple dinosaur (or in this particular case a big purple superhero) wasn’t necessary but what could I offer her? And for that next day - Wednesday morning. Now normally with a bit more notice I might have gone all out and been a bit more creative – but beggars can’t be choosers. She said she was happy with whatever I created. So at 7:15 p.m. I headed home, to get crackin’.

3 ½ hours, 750 grams of butter, 8 cups of sugar later – I’d created nearly 3 dozen purple cupcakes. I’d doubled a failsafe butter cake recipe and once doubled, divided it in half again. To one half I added lemon juice & zest and to the other half melted chocolate and chopped hazelnuts. I was a woman possessed as I baked, partly in my zone and partly in frenzy.

Considering I was under a huge time crunch, my hand mixer smoking and needing to be thrown in the bin straight off the cooking bat (thank goodness for crazy food processor attachments), and dealing with the temperamental fickleness of food colouring I ended up making one of the biggest messes of my cooking career.

Seriously, anyone who knows me can attest to me being a whirlwind with my stuff, be it in the kitchen, my living room, or bedroom. I’m that person that finds clothes in my kitchen cupboard and a jar of pickles with my t-shirts. So considering that I’m messy on a good day – the mess was a beast like no other. Forget about getting cake all over me, I somehow managed to get purple frosting on my ceiling too.

However, at the end of the day – they came out looking great. A woman picked them up at 7:30 am the next morning and handed me a wad of cash-ola for them. Funny thing is, I had so much fun I would have done it for free…although the clean up was brutal…so it did soften this blow.

Who knows, maybe this is the beginning of a fun part-time job – I’ve already had an offer for a co-worker’s son’s birthday…apparently he's having a dinosaur themed party...just my luck!

The August Olympics (of food)

Here I am 2 days before the end of August sitting and writing for the first time this month. I’d like to admit that it was due to a hectic work schedule, but with 2 and a half weeks of holiday in the US visiting friends and family – I just couldn’t bring myself to boot up my laptop beyond an occasional email check. Truthfully, the most labour intensive technology I used whilst at home included two items:

First was my mother’s universal remote – it took me nearly a week to successfully turn the TV on and off without messing up some secret settings she'd set up.

Second was her Wine Preserver vacuum pump - with this one I spent a good ten minutes trying to insert nozzles, both backwards and forewords. Once that was sorted, I started frantically pumping and pumping the top of it to “release all the air” (or so the packaging claimed). Having broken out in a sweat, and nearly chipped a tooth, I figured out a better solution – I took the damn Wine Preserver off and just finished the bottle of wine. There, problem solved.

Anyway, technology snafus aside it was a wonderful few weeks of best friends, quality family time, 3x/week personal training sessions, and new fall/winter clothes stock-up sessions.

Side bar: It’s all well and good for my family to tell me how lucky I am when visiting the States since the $ is so weak against the £. Well, not exactly when I proceeded to buy EVERYTHING in site. Please, if anyone has an occasion for me to wear a new sparkly purple sequin dress, please let me know.

Lovely food and eating occurred on most days. We tended to do a lot of eating and cooking in - which worked out to everyone’s benefit. In honor of this month’s Olympics I’d like to share this month’s food winners:

Bronze Medal: Matt’s Chicken Shawarma

Marinated for 24 hours and with enough garlic to kill off the entire Vampire Chronicle series, I’d been hearing about this famous chicken shawarma for months. Served in whole wheat pitas with home-made tahini sauce, cucumbers from the farm, a wee bit of feta and all washed down with a Blue Moon (with lemon) a good time was had by all.

Silver Medal: Spicy Tuna salad at Fugakyu

Everything I love about really fresh spicy tuna rolls but without the rice. Fresh pieces of tuna with spicy mayo and little flecks of tempura crunch were served in a martini glass over a bed of seaweed. When out to eat with friends I never like to eat the last bit of anything unless strongly prompted, however Jai and I were fighting over the last bit like 2 women who’d spotted the same discount handbag at Loehmanns red tag sale.

Gold Medal: Dinner in three courses prepared by Davida, Audrey, and Dana

With the 3 of us in the kitchen at the same time it was particularly (and surprisingly) smooth sailing and by far the most enjoyable and delicious meal of the month:

~Roasted peaches and goat cheese served with prosciutto and an olive oil drizzle
~Fresh crab and corn cakes served with a brandied cream and shrimp sauce
~Squash blossoms stuffed with 2 types of Italian cheeses, dried apricots, garlic and chives

Lovebox cookies

Last Saturday was an amazing day out filled with good friends, amazing music, a fair bit of sunshine and big warm fuzzy feelings for London. I'd been at the Lovebox music festival during the day and while it finished around 10:30 p.m., there were definitely a few more hours of music, dancing, and an all in all jolly time to be had. So much so - that by 3 am when I was excusing myself to go catch my #43 bus home I was accosted by some friends of friends.

Nope, they were not letting me leave. There was more fun to be had they insisted: “The night is young! Plus before we know it – 5 years will go by and then we’ll all be like 32 and married with kids. We won’t be able to party and go out anymore.”

I wasn’t sure whether I was laughing, crying, or coughing (having recently run out of Allergy medicine earlier in the week). But I informed them that now I really did need to go home. I needed to get my rest because I didn’t have 5 years like them! Ha! The bunch couldn't believe I was 30. “You don’t look THAT old” they kept saying. Hmmmm....

Well needless to say after about 15 hours of merry-making, Sunday was a bit of a waste of a day and went something like this:

1. 10 am - wake up starving. Bizarrely decide I must make pancakes. Eat pancakes and go back to bed.

2. Noon - wake up and move to couch

3. 1 pm -take shower and return to couch

4. 3 pm - decide I need to do SOMETHING productive so bake cookies (chocolate cookies with dried cherries, toasted pecans and chocolate chips)

5. 5 pm - take nap

6. 7 pm - join friends for dinner

7. 9:30 - go to bed

Right, ok then...not the most productive of days but my extended team at work were loving the cookies so there you go.

Notting Hill Village Fete

I’ve been in a lucky girl in having some truly remarkable friends. Like a pair of coveted Jimmy Choos, each is uniquely special in their own way. My recent visit to the "Notting Hill Village Fete”, showcased AW in all of her quirky, thoughtful, perfectly detailed Englishness.

Celebrating her 28th she’d managed to transform her flat into a Village Fete complete with proper bunting, “whack a rat”, and a male bake-off competition. Only white wine and Pimms were allowed past the front door.

I’ll admit I went into this blind. My idea of a “Village Fete” was a typical Americana “Country Fair” complete with quilting bees and blueberry pies, of which I can’t remember ever having attended one before. Embarrassingly enough, I didn’t even know what bunting was, and “whack a rat”? I thought she might have rented a UK version of Whack a Mole. Yeah, I know – so wrong, but I'll bet every State-side reader would have thought the same thing.

After learning some country dances, drinking a hefty bit of Pimms, and judging the male bake-off competition I realised that for the first time in a long time I didn’t want to scramble away to make the last tube - so what if my taxi was going to be £25 to get home? Most definitely worth it.

I brought with me a home-made carrot cake. I’d been craving one all week, but really can't stand the stuff they sell in places like Starbucks. As luck would have it, by the time I finished with all my Pimms and bake-off tasting I only had room for a few bites of mine and then ended up leaving the rest with AW and TD for later consumption. However, even if I didn't give it the artist's eye, it was still met with rave reviews. I believe I even blushed when told by one fete goer that it was the best carrot cake he’d ever had. And another who said it was “Da Bomb…totally blissed out by it”. My coveted shoes keep me feeling confident and fabulous – and with such compliments on my cake – so do my friends.

Village Fete Carrot Cake (aka The Silver Palate’s recipe with a few distinct variations I’ve noted below):

http://www.relishmag.com/recipes/view/31242/the-silver-palates-carrot.html

Swap out the cooked carrots for shredded raw ones and up the total amount to 1 ½ cups
Replace the walnuts with pecans

2 1/2 times the frosting (I frost the sides of the cake, the recipe doesn't. Also, I'm in love with cream cheese frosting.)

Summer Bounty

Having friends over for dinner is always as much a treat for me as it is for them. Sunday I spent my morning with a big grin plastered to my face as I bought two armfuls of fresh produce at my local farmers market. Strawberry, raspberries, cherries, rhubarb, lettuce, courgette, cucumber, tomatoes, shallots, onions - I felt like I had quasi-Popeye arms by the time I walked home with all my goodies in tow.

I actually pulled a fast one on myself by keeping it simple with a new potato and spring onion tart purchased at the market. Even if it hadn’t been home-made be me – it was by the woman selling it. After a moment or two of “should I? am I cheating”…I was in. I knew that combining it with a superdana salad and dessert it wouldn't be cheating – It would just be smart.

The tart was lovely the best bit being how the pastry was made with olive oil instead of butter. However, while the tart was singing Kenny Loggins “I’m Alright”, the salad and dessert were rocking out to Queen’s “We Are the Champions”.

The salad was like a Vegas slot machine or if like me and a bit pussyfooted about gambling more like a game of travel Yahtzee. …every bite as an unexpected surprise! Would I get the fresh strawberry with a bite of beet and goat cheese? MAYBE I’d get the spiced pecan with the crispy shallots and dried cranberries. Oh boy was it a fun game!

Dessert was a vanilla bean cheesecake with strawberry rhubarb compote. The cheesecake was sweet but not OTT. If any fault could be found it was that because I switched the recipe up using two small spring form pans my measurements were a bit off. As such the crust, while yummy, was quite thick around the edges. However, what put the cheesecake on the short list of recipes I’ll make again was the strawberry rhubarb compote I made to go with it. Part skill, but mostly luck – I threw just a few ingredients into a pot to cook on the stove top. Didn’t measure and didn’t even look much (was too busy chatting)…but what I ended up with was perfect. It was exceptionally tart (my favourite) but not too much so when paired with the cheesecake. Though even on it’s own it’s been fantastic. I’ve been spooning it into my eagerly awaiting mouth most days this week after dinner.


Yahtzee Salad

Half a head of lettuce
Sliced cucumber
Sliced avocado
Dried cranberries
Fresh strawberries
1/3 cup pecan halves
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
Cooked beetroot
Crumbled goat's cheese
2 shallots, diced
1/4 cup plus 1 Tbsp olive oil
1/8 cup balsamic vinegar
1 small garlic clove, finely diced
1/4 teaspoon lemon juice

1. Preheat oven to 176 C or 350 F
2. Toss pecans with cayenne pepper and cinnamon, roast in oven for approx 12 minutes
3. Heat 1 Tbsp olive oil is a small sauté pan over medium heat. Add shallots and cook for 6-8 minutes until crisp and brown. Set aside.
4. Combine olive oil, balsamic, garlic, lemon juice, 1/4 of fried shallots, and any herbs you have lying around (I used a wee bit of oregano)
5. Toss the rest of the ingredients in a large bowl. Sprinkle pecans, leftover fried shallots and dressing on top


Vanilla Bean Cheesecake
The cheesecake recipe came from a slightly doctored version from a 1998 issue of Bon Appetit:

A few notes:
1. Graham crackers don't exist in the UK so I used Waitrose brand "Rich Tea Fingers". For you Yanks, they're basically the cookie part of a Vienna Finger.
2. I skipped out on the Vanilla-Vodka Berries in the linked recipe and replaced it with my strawberry rhubarb compote below
3. The vodka in the actual cheesecake was halved and vanilla extract doubled.
4. Once I scraped all the vanilla beans out of the pods I threw the pods into a bottle of vodka in my freezer for vanilla martinis at a future date and time.

Strawberry Rhubarb Compote - Note measurements are approximate

3/4 cup apple juice
2 cups rhubarb washed, peeled and cut into 1 inch pieces
1 cup strawberries
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

1. Over medium heat boil rhubarb in apple juice, sugar, vanilla and cinnamon - approx 10 minutes
2. Add strawberries and cook for an additional 5-6 minutes
3. Cool completely

Rotten Cotton Lemon Puffs

I was at my new client site today, piddling along, when I got up to grab some water. In their break room I found a large tin containing a variety of treats (I’d been told to help myself…so of course I did). I took the lid off, and the dialogue in my head proceeded to go something like this:

Dana’s head: “Oooooh, a sandwich cookie! I like those. I’ll take one.”

Dana takes bite #1.

Dana's head: “Oh weird. What is this? It looks and tastes like a Ritz cracker with lemon-flavoured toothpaste in the middle. Ugh.”

Dana takes 2nd bite (hoping it’s going to get better).

Dana's head: “Yuck. Oh, let me see what they’re called. Hmmm…package is broken but looks like Jacob’s Lemon P”

Dana takes 3rd bite.

Dana's head: “Why am I still eating this? It’s disgusting.”

Dana takes one last bite and finishes the cookie.

Today, the 24th of June, 2008 goes down in history as the day I ate the most disgusting biscuit/cookie ever. After googling "Jacob’s Lemon P” I learned they are officially called "Jacob’s Lemon Puffs". Please note, the first website I clicked on had a review that read...

“I'm sorry but now I have nothing good to say about Jacobs Lemon Puff's… an attempt to manufacture puff pastry in biscuit form which is hard and disgusting…a spot of …lemon paste.”

Obviously the Jacob’s website feels differently and described them in the following manner (my commentary in italics).

“Jacob's have been baking cream-filled biscuits for generations and they remain as popular today as they were a century ago (oh really? is it the same batch from 1908?). Smooth, soft cream (let's be honest...the word is pasty) sandwiched between two Jacob's biscuits…is distinctive (yep, agreement here - it certainly was THIS)…with flavour jam… making for a unique (again agreement) and tasty (ha! Is this a joke?) treat.

My advice – avoid Jacob’s Lemon Puffs like the Central line/Grand Central at rush hour.

Dos café con leche, s’il vous plait?

Our atrocious French/Spanish mix-up ran rampant during my recent weekend in Paris with LM. You know that special area of the brain reserved for language skills? Yeah, mine doesn’t exist. Or if it ever did - was replaced with a pretty decent knowledge of tropical Asian fruits. Yeah, I know – I lost out on this one.

Horrible lingual skills aside, LM and I got up to a fair bit of mischief over our 2 ½ days in Paris. When it came to our copious food and wine consumption (the best vin of the weekend being the cuvee fie gris from Domaine Jacky Preys & Fils) we counteracted it all with a self-directed (aka - we had no idea where the hell we were going) walking tour of the city. It was grey and chilly but it didn’t make much difference to us.

For certain, Paris provides a battle upon the senses. It’s a culture that oozes sophistication and style like ripe brie that’s been sat out to ready itself for consumption. Everywhere I turned was some scrumptious confection looking even more perfect than the one I strolled past minutes before. On a number of occasions I could hear the lulling of “How much is that doggie in the window”… only my cute little doggy was a strawberry tart, a basket of cannelés or a home-made chocolate éclair. If Hansel and Gretal made a visit to Paris they may have left a trail of breadcrumbs to find their way back to their hotel. I think I left my face imprinted on patisserie shop windows.

And I’m not ashamed; I’ll admit…possibly a bit of drool at some of the finer establishments.

Pastry stalking aside, we managed to get off of the beaten track a bit and found some great up and coming bistros and wine shops to spend a fair bit of our time. While not necessarily ready to board the Eurostar back to London Sunday afternoon – we ended our weekend with an excellent brunch at La Cantine de Quentin. However, this time around the most delicious dish served up was most certainly NOT on the menu…and it filled us up and kept is happy until nearly home 3 hours later…

Girly Ultimate

White Sangria with fresh passionfruit and peaches.

Cupcakes with pink frosting.

SATC.

There are some things best done with your girlfriends.

The SATC premier has been on the lips of every woman I know this past week. One would think it was THE event of the summer. In one day alone I received texts and emails from 5 different friends checking in to see what my plan was for seeing it. I knew of 4 different groups having “SATC Premiere Parties," complete with cosmos as a starter, the last few episodes of the series as a main course, and saving the best for last - an excursion to the cinema to watch the movie for dessert. I'd decided on a slightly different route (late afternoon showing, followed by dinner and drinkies with 3 friends).

We weren't planning to make a fuss about it. Still, texts started flying in around noon that day...What shoes would I wear? Prada. What was I wearing? White trousers, black top, red accessories. Makeup? Not much because what’s the point when you're sitting in the dark.

I’ve come to think (realise) sometimes (most of the time) I’m a little crazy. The whole outfit planning experience made me realise it's not a Dana thing. It's just a female thing. At the theatre we found the following demographics:

1. Gaggles of women dressed up like they were going to some swank bar


2. Gay men


3. Straight men (in total - 3 of them - all looking suitably miserable)

The lead-up to the movie had me busily bee-ing with a new project at work. However, I was still excited and managed to start the girly theme off early in the week with homemade White Sangria and Cupcakes for JB’s 31st birthday. Festivities were held in the very unglamorous, but strangely exciting Horsham.

We even had our own SATC moment complete with that guy that you haven't seen in a year. JB, acting as my very own Miranda, made a comment that went something like: “Wow, you’ve had a rough year. You look like shit. Still as big a jerk as ever, right?” Pure Comedy.

White Sangria with Peaches and Passionfruit

• 1 bottle Cava or white wine, chilled


• ¼ cup peach juice (use orange if peach is too high-mai)


• ¼ - ½ cup lemonade (lemonade is actually Sprite/7-Up for you Yanks)


• ½ cup green grapes cut in half


• 2 peaches cut into small pieces


• The pulp from 2 passionfruits


• Lots of ice

Combine all ingredients in a large pitcher and add a bit more juice/lemonade to taste. Let sit for about 30 minutes in the fridge if possible (JB and I lasted about 3 minutes).

Vanilla Cupcakes with Pink and Chocolate Buttercream Frosting

Cupcakes

• 1/2 cup (113 grams) unsalted butter, room temp


• 2/3 cup (130 grams) granulated sugar


• 2 large eggs


• 1½ tsp vanilla


• 2 tbsp strawberry jam


• 1 1/2 cups (210 grams) flour


• 1 teaspoons baking powder


• 1/4 teaspoon salt


• 1/4 cup (60 ml) milk

Preheat oven to 350 F (176 C).
Line a muffin tin with paper/foil wrappers.
Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.
Add the eggs, one at a time
Add vanilla extract and strawberry jam.
In a separate bowl mix together flour, baking powder and salt.
Add to egg/butter mixture along with milk until just combined.
Fill the muffin tin and bake in the oven for about 20 minutes until lightly browned.
Remove from oven and let cool completely before frosting.

Frosting

• 1/2 cup (113 grams) unsalted butter, room temp


• 1½ tsp vanilla


• 2 cups (230 grams) confectionary sugar


• 3 tbsp milk


• 3½ oz (100 grams) milk chocolate, melted and cooled to room temp


• 4-6 drops red food colouring

Cream butter until smooth – about 2 minutes.
Add vanilla.
Slowly add the confectionary sugar until well blended.
Add the milk and then beat on high for approximately 5 minutes or until it reaches a “fluffy” frosting consistency.
To make the chocolate buttercream take half of the frosting and slowly fold in the melted chocolate.
To make the pink buttercream, slowly fold in the food colouring to the other half of the frosting (adding it slowly until you get the colour you are looking for).
Frost on completely cooled cupcakes.

Mid-week revelry

Faster than a speeding bullet, the past few weeks have flown by. So much so that I truly can't believe we are welcoming in the last week of May. The weather the past few days hasn't helped much either. One would think it was March around these chilly parts.

I was long overdue for one of my Sunday night cooking extravaganzas – so this past weekend scheduled it in. On Saturday I'd done my rounds at the posh supermarket and bought my achingly expensive groceries. I’d even mapped out all the dishes I’d be making. There really wasn’t much to stop me....just the devil's brew. Saturday evening’s festivities had plenty of that and left me (put mildly) less than well prepared for Sunday’s domesticated activities (unless one considers sitting in your jammies lying on the couch until 3 as a “domesticated activity”). Needless to say, the feast creation plan didn’t turn out much. Instead I ended up out with a friend eating an undercooked pizza around 8:30 p.m. Truly pathetic.

Since my Sunday of cooking turned out to be a bust I had two options:

1. Try and freeze my wild salmon and cross my fingers that the dozen or so herbs and vegetables I’d bought would last until next weekend …OR…
2. Suck it up and create a mid-week feast

There really was only one option - there was no way I was risking all of my groceries. As a result it's been a delicious week, complete with:

1. Fresh Corn, Courgette, and Feta Fritters
2. Sesame Mirin Soy Salmon
3. Brown Sugar Brownies with Dried Cranberries and White Chocolate Chips
   

Fresh Corn, Courgette, and Feta Fritters

(Inspired by Bill Granger’s Bill’s Food – Corn Fritter and Zucchini Fritter recipes)

2 ears of corn – kemels removed
2 small courgettes - grated

¼ cup cilantro (coriander) chopped

¼ cup feta in small pieces

5 green onions diced (just white and pale green parts)

1 tbsp lemon juice

2 eggs

½ cup flour

Salt and pepper to taste

¼ cup (approx) Olive oil for frying

- Mix all ingredients in a medium sized bowl

- Heat olive oil in a large non-stick frying pans on medium-high heat

- Drop fritter batter by heaping tablespoons and cook for approximately 3-4 minutes on each side

Makes about 14

Sesame Mirin Soy Salmon

(Adapted from Bill Granger’s Bill’s Food – Glazed Salmon recipe)

80 ml (1/3 cup) mirin
80 ml (1/3 cup) soy sauce
1 Tbsp sesame oil
1 Tbsp grated ginger
2 Tsp sugar
2 Tsp fresh lemon juice
2 salmon filets (wild if possible)

Dressing
125 ml (1/2 cup) mirin
62 ml (1/4 cup) soy sauce
2 Tsp sugar

1/8 cup sesame seeds

- Marinate the salmon in the first 6 ingredients for 1-2 hours
- To make dressing, bring 3 ingredients to a boil in a small saucepan, reduce heat, and let it thicken – about 12-15 minutes. Set aside
- Heat the grill in your oven to about 275 Celsius
- Remove the salmon from the marinade and place it under the grill in a non-stick pan for about 10 minutes. Keep a close eye on it!
- Serve the salmon by pouring the marinade over and sprinkling with sesame seeds

Brown Sugar Brownies with Dried Cranberries and White Chocolate Chips
(Another old-time family favourite…the original version skips the white chocolate and cranberries and uses semi-sweet chocolate chips instead).

½ cup butter
2 cups brown sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 cups flour
2 tsp baking powder
Pinch of salt
1 tsp vanilla
½ cup white chocolate chips
½ cup dried cranberries

- Preheat oven to 350 F° (176 C°)
- Cream the butter and sugar
- Add eggs, flour, baking powder, salt and vanilla
- Fold in dried cranberries and white chocolate chips
- Bake in an 8 inch square pan (or 7 by 11) for about 30 minutes until tester inserted in the middle of brownies comes out clean

The Adventures of Scrappy and Pickle

Once upon a time in a land brimming with Miami Beach outfits and a public transport system that seethed and heaved like an overheated German Shepherd, you could find two bumbling superheroes, Scrappy and her side-kick Pickle. Scrappy and Pickle had recently been separated as Pickle had been off fighting her nemesis Dissertation Man. Dissertation Man was currently in hiding and while Pickle had plans to fight him off for good, used the brief sojourn to board her invisible plane (yes, just like Wonder Woman’s!) and pay her old crime-fighting comrade a visit.

Scrappy considered herself somewhat of the fashionable sort fighting bad outfits with a roll of her eyes or a look of confusion. Pickle had always been the perfect crime-fighting sidekick, doing her utmost to keep Scrappy out of trouble and away from offensive outfits and minicab drivers who tried to steal lovely parcels, from let’s say…Fortnum and Mason. When not saving the world from these evil-doers, Scrappy and Pickle could be found at a number of different eateries, ensuring that they stocked up on all the proper food and drink a super hero might need.

The reunion started off with wine near St. Paul’s Cathedral, fresh fruity tutti cocktails at the Charlotte Street Hotel, and ace tapas at The Salt Yard on Goodge Street.

Highlights from the Salt Yard:
- Marinated Beetroot with Goats Cheese, Pinenuts and Vinaigrette

- Courgette Flowers stuffed with Monte Enebro cheese and drizzled with honey
- Cornish Crab and Chilli Croquetas
- Roasted Chorizo with Moscatel Vinegar

The next day found Scrappy and Pickle once again out and about looking to right the wrongs of meanie minicab drivers. It took the better part of the day to do, in the meanwhile Scrappy and Pickle filled up on some much needed sustenance.

Gordon Ramsey's The Narrow:
This Thameside pub near Limehouse was brimming with sunshine and positive energy (and outfits). After a bit of discussion around what they should share, Pickle and Scrappy decided to skip going halvsies and each ordered the hake and chips with marrow fat peas. This was one of Scrappy and Pickle’s better decisions that day. The coating of the fish was crispier and leaps and bounds more palatable than Scrappy’s aqua net mall bangs from 1988. The fish was moist, the chips not too chunky, and the marrow fat peas were delicious enough to make even the most finicky veggie-hating child ask for seconds.

Nothing could stop Scrappy and Pickle now…except perhaps for a key lime pie or some patty pan squash stuffed with fresh corn and feta…

Iceland and the Northern Lights

Apparently the hotdog is one of Iceland’s national foods. How this came to be I’m not entirely sure, but last weekend’s visit to Reykjavik had me consuming 2 within a 24 hour period. Honestly, this was more than my total hotdog consumption in the past 12 months.

Furthermore, I’m not sure why I insist on travelling to the most expensive cities in Europe ($9-$10 beer as a benchmark) but I can only imagine that the lowly hotdog has been raised to its glorious national iconic status because at 230-250 króna (£1.60) it’s the most affordable meal out. And, calling a spade a spade here…they’re pretty tasty too.

The main difference with the Icelandic hotdog is that the casing seemed to be just a teensy bit thicker than normal. So while normally I’d just bite and eat away, it took some extra oomph on the molars to break through to the mystery meat within. A nice addition to the standard optional accoutrements was the option of fresh and/or fried onions. Feeling quite strongly that eating raw onions is worse than being stuck in an elevator with Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” being played on repeat, I opted for the fried onions. Like the hotdog, they were not of home-made ilk. Instead, they were the miniature ones that come in a tin can. I suppose one must give Iceland credit for being consistent in the hot dog’s artificialness. Regardless, the fried onions, adhering to the hotdog via a glue stick of ketchup were delicious. Would I make a habit of hunting these Icelandic dogs down now that I’m back in London? Let’s say that they were on sale at the airport…but Dana decided to pass.

The other gastronomic adventures of note were Viking beer and the 3-course lobster tasting menu at Laekjarbrekka.

Like the Virgin Mary who was discovered on a piece of French toast (and then quickly sold on ebay for $28,000), my first pint of Viking beer had a eerily scary picture in the foam on top. Depending on the angle, it was a map of Iceland. I thought perhaps this was because Viking beer is made with “pure Icelandic water” (the poopy sulphur smell having been removed) but looking around the table no one else seemed to having anything even remotely similar. The beer is a golden pilsner, and while I typically prefer my brewskies a bit darker, it was the perfect pint.

The restaurant Laekjarbrekka is situated in one of the oldest buildings in Reykjavik. With a laminated, free-standing sign outside their front door to woo in passing tourists, I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. That said, what welcomed us inside was the quaintest little dining room, complete with an elderly Icelandic piano player who kept us entertained with a wide variety of show tunes.

The lobster in Iceland is quite different from traditional New England lobster. They're much smaller (think langoustines) due to the colder waters. There was a moment of panic when I was signing up for the lobstermenu as I don’t generally trust little lobsters. However, everything worked really well becaused they highlighted the tender meat of the lobster tail and for the most part didn’t serve it in its shell.

On the menu:

Lobster soup with crème and cognac – The others loved this soup. For me it was the biggest disappointment of the meal, but this is partly due to the fact that I tend to avoid crème based soups like oncoming traffic in a game of Frogger.

Grilled lobster tails in garlic-butter, tempura fried lobster, and lobster Wellington with cap and portabella mushrooms – I found all three of these dishes outstanding. A few of the others felt the tempura lobster was reminiscent of what one might get at a fish and chip shop. I’d agree in the context of the fried battering, but disagreed because the lobster meat was outstanding. If I could get it at my local fish and chip shop on a regular basis I’d be a much fuller-figured lady.

Desert was simple and straightforward, served inside a toffee almond “basket” was fresh fruit salad and an assortment of ice creams and sorbets. Because I’m a sucker for homemade ice creams (the mass produced Ben & Jerry’s stuff not being my thing), the desert had me classily licking my plate. Literally. Licking my plate. Ok, with my fingers if I'm honest, but is this really any better? The only thing better would have had to be seeing the Northern Lights, completely randomly while being locked out of our apartment our first night. Smooth operators, ladies. ;-)

Marathon Meals

As I’ve said on many an occasion to my sporty friends, my sport of choice is cake-baking. As such, when it came time for this past Sunday’s London Marathon I lent my support in the only way I knew how, by cooking. FM was running and for the past 6 months I’d been privy to hearing about her somewhat busted knee (which was fixed in time to run) and been woken up by the front door opening and closing as she headed out on her many early morning runs. I must say it was admirable. I’d snuggle deeper into my covers, role over and proceed to sleep for at least another hour before getting up for work.

I wasn’t entirely sure what a good post-marathon meal would be but I decided something with protein and carbohydrates would do quite well. Oh, and truffle oil. Every good marathon runner needs a bit of truffle at the end of a gruelling 26.2 miles.

Finished with triple chocolate cookies, it might not have been the meal a nutritionist would have prescribed, but it still managed to do the trick.

Herbed Chicken and Shitake Mushroom, Leeks, and Truffle Risotto

In typical fashion I’ve taken a recipe I’ve found and changed it to my specifications. As it read, it seemed much too heavy for a post-marathon runner, so off I went tweak, tweaking away.

In a nutshell, incorporate the following into the recipe hyperlinked above.
1. Replace the cream with semi-skim milk
2. Replace the butter with olive oil (if butter is a necessity, finish the risotto at the end with a bit – it’s not necessary with the mushrooms)
3. If you are not using freshly shaved truffles, triple the amount of truffle oil you use and finish the dish at the end with a little swirl on top
4. I used chicken stock instead of vegetable stock, just because it’s what I had available (and I was cooking chicken to serve with the risotto anyway)
5. Pass on the “chopped fresh parsley”. Seriously, it’s not going to add anything but a bit of greenery (of which I just served dinner with a green salad instead)

Herbed Chicken -This might be the easiest recipe ever…and it was FM's favourite part of the meal.

1. In a small bowl mix together bread crumbs (I used Japanese panko crumbs), chopped garlic, and fresh/dried herbs (I used thyme and oregano)
2. Take skinless/boneless chicken breast and coat with a thin layer of olive oil (I had a little bit of hummus left over so I used this as well). Once coated, dip in crumb mixture and cover chicken. Repeat if necessary.
3. Bake in an oven at 350° F or 175° C until cooked through – about 35 minutes
4. Serve with risotto

Triple Chocolate Cookies

I definitely had something in mind when I was making these cookies but because I couldn’t seem to find any of the ingredients I wanted or needed they ended up taking on a life of their own. Somewhat cake/brownie like instead – they still managed to be moist and quite flavourful. I brought the leftovers to my eager team at work. When I opened the container the smell that wafted out was so delicious and chocolaty that I was told to immediately close the lid or I should expect them to all be gone in the next few minutes.

I’ll definitely make these again – they were more popular than I would have imagined when I first took them out of the oven.

8-10 ounces (225-285 grams) semisweet chocolate
1/2 cup flour
4 tablespoons cocoa (I used Cadbury)
¼ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
3 eggs
2 tsps vanilla extract
8 oz (225 grams) white chocolate broken into chunks
½ cup milk chocolate chips

- Preheat oven to 350°F / 175°C.
- Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper
- Melt semisweet chocolate, set aside to cool
- Mix flour, cocoa, baking powder, and salt
- With electric mixer, beat sugar and butter in another medium bowl until well combined
- Add eggs, 1 at a time, beating well after each addition
- Continue to beat until 3-4 minutes more until light in colour
- Add melted chocolate and vanilla and beat together
- Fold in flour mixture, white chocolate chunks and chocolate chips
- Place a tablespoon full of batter onto cookie sheets, space at least 1 inch from each other
- Bake cookies, 1 tray at a time, for about 10-12 minutes per tray
- Cool cookies

Dill up in my Grill

My recent trip to Moscow left a few distinct impressions on me.

The city is quite beautiful but most importantly filled with terrific food. The beauty however, is more of the "rough around the edges" variety, and hid behind a fair bit of grit and grime. Basically, like the copious amounts of potatoes they use in their food, the city could do with a good scrubbing.

In Moscow, the people aren’t particularly friendly at first, but the vodka makes up for it in the end. More shocking than the burning sensation of home-made vodka scorching my throat was just how expensive everything was. Never-ever did I think London would be a pauper cousin to another metropolis. Low and behold – here was Moscow, strutting her stuff and waving her big chops around. They say ignorance was bliss, and when I wasn’t converting my purchases I was AOK. However, it wasn’t until KC and I were walking down the street with a green tea and cappuccino in hand that the internal calculator turned on. I’m hoping our drinks were brewed in gold and dusted with magical powers because I realised that the two drinks had just cost us $26.00. And no, my nose is not growing.

Traveling to Moscow was the first time I’d really had an opportunity to eat Russian and Ukrainian food in excess. It was also the first time I was as close as I’d ever come to some of the traditional foods I’d grown up with. I’d always just thought of them as family recipes - typical “Jewish” foods – but I realised they were less about being “Jewish” (as the pork in a few dishes should have hinted at) and more eastern European – Russian influenced. I mentioned to a few people that I loved the food in Moscow and more than a fair few were quite surprised. Maybe it’s the ¼ Ukrainian in me that made it come out – but KC loved it too. And her heritage is of a random variety of Western European countries. And she's from Texas to boot - so I doubt it.

Still, the connection was made for a few reasons:

Dill - My mother, grandmother before her, and now me has had a love affair with dill all of our lives. It makes its way into many home-made soups and salads that have been made countless times over the years.

Potatoes – The body is approximately 60% water, I think the rest of mine is made up of mashed potatoes. I’m addicted to them and must eat them in some capacity nearly every day. These little diamonds make their way into nearly all old-school family recipes in some way, shape, or form. Even when you don’t expect potato (e.g. Meat Knishes) it’s hidden in there unexpectedly (in the case of the said Knishes, in the dough).

Vodka – I love it. My mom loves it. My grandmother, bless her, was known to take a sip or two on occasion.

Over my 4 days in Moscow I had two favourite foodie delights. The first was the Russian tradition of chasing vodka shots with dill pickles. Never in my life have I found a more perfect match. People talk about meeting their perfect match, their “soul mate” – I think it’s really all about meeting your “dill pickle.” On so many different levels that just sounds wrong - I know, but honestly – it’s just so right.

My second favourite is the infamous beetroot soup, borscht. When I was younger borscht didn’t materialise too often because my father is a Borscht hater. However, my mom would still make it for herself on occasion. In my youthful ignorance the only bright-pink items I’d let near me were hair scrunchies, bonnie-bell watermelon lip gloss, or my lee press on nails in “bubblegum.” Borscht was totally bogus, man.

Living in London one can get some fancy delancy beetroot based soups, but funnily enough it’s never actually called Borscht (case in point my refrigerator currently contains a lovely container of “Duchy Originals Organic Fresh Beetroot Soup with Dill”) and hence I was still living in the dark thinking I was a borscht hater. This trip to Moscow showed me the light. I, Dana E. B. am the biggest borscht-lover ever. The sweetness of the beets, mixed with the smokiness of a bit of pork, and a big ol’ dollop of sour cream is...well…as Belinda Carlisle once sang, “heaven is a place on earth.” For me, it resides in a big old bowl of Borscht soup.

Two little piggies go to market

I've always been fascinated by sibling relationships. Love them or hate them, our siblings form a distinct part of who we are. Being the youngest of four, the only-child phenomenon has always amazed me. What would it be like to always be the centre of attention and favorite? A question my 2 brothers and sister often ask me (winkwink).

While spending my formative years in a state of “I’m telling mom,” MCB’s recent visit reminded me that even though the distances may be great (3 continents), visits less frequent than trips to the dentist, and life’s paths as different as the intelligence levels of Paris Hilton and Albert Einstein, our siblings are part and parcel of who we are.

Now, the reality of this is that what you share with one sibling might be different from the others. In the case of MCB, straight away I was reminded of the passion we both have for all things food-related. Next to our family and friends it’s probably what we love most. This was completely encapsulated in his 35 year-old face when taking in Borough Market for the first time. Recognizing the look on his face as one I’ve had many times before, the sheer joy and aplomb at seeing London’s oldest food market was completely telling. I knew what I was seeing – pure delight and excitement and being surrounded by such gastronomic bliss.

Even though MCB’s stay was a mere 60 hours we managed to eat and drink our way through most of London. Some highlights:

1. Al Hamra, my favorite Lebanese restaurant in Shepherd’s Market. WARNING: The garlic will stay with you for at least 36 hours. Honest.

2. A slightly drunken whistle stop tour of Chinatown which involved Peking duck, soft shell crab and a bizarre dish consisting of pork and eel (this last one, not so much folks).

3. Neal’s Yard Dairy:

• Dana: (swooning): “Shall we get a little bit of cheese to snack on before dinner.”


• MCB: “Sure, how about a little bit of 3 different kinds”.


• Dana: (as the cheesemonger is slicing away): “Oh, no. Too much! Less, please."


• MCB: “Oh, it's fine. Let's get it all. I’ll eat it – don’t worry.”

For the record, MCB ate a teensy nibble of the cheese and left me (the cheese lover who’s trying to give it up) a fridge full of stinky and sticky glorious cheese. Somehow even as grown-ups he's managed to tease me unfairly. So what if now the taunts are with cheese?

4. Tamarind in Mayfair (rated 26 for food in Zagat) was our “big meal out.” It’s meant to be an outstanding upscale Indian restaurant. While our food was good, MCB and I decided that, quite simply, Indian’s not meant to be upscale. We would've been just as happy with a dirty curry that cost ¼ the price. It also didn’t help that neither one of us was particularly hungry from all the food we'd eaten at Borough Market earlier that day.

Truth? At the point we were heading to dinner I was still so full all I really wanted to do was stay in and not eat for another 2 days. Alas, when big brother is paying one can always find room for just a wee bit more...

Nuts for Islington (and pecans) PART 2

Two thumbs up, a high-five, and a gold star go to MCB, who made a celebrity whistle-stop tour to London this weekend. He gets a massive shout out for the gargantuan amount of pecans he brought me from the States. It’s true; they really do make things bigger in the States. I think just one of those bags of pecans makes up the entire pecan community in supermarkets in North London.

Nuts for Islington (and pecans) PART 1

Last Sunday was just another example of why I am head over heels for North London. I know there's a very strong argument for the wide variety of other neighborhoods in the city. If I’d randomly ended up living in one of these places instead, like I did here - it would probably be the fixation of my appreciation too.

In the morning I headed out into the sunshine for Islington’s farmer’s market. In typical London form it started raining 10 minutes into my walk. Of course I was wearing sunnies and not thought to bring an umbrella. C'est la vie, I suppose.

The market is peanut-sized and open from 10-2 on Sundays. Whilst itsybitsy, it really has everything you need for the makings of the utmost Sunday supper. Combine that with the most quintessential and lovely British farmers and bakers who are passionate about the work they do and the food they sell, I spent nearly 2 hours tasting and chatting away about the current state of farming affairs (not so good) and Londoners love of farmer’s markets (quite good). This was all while hunched under their 2 inches of awning that covered their wares.

One thing (not surprisingly) I couldn’t get at the farmer’s market were pecans, which I needed for my Hidden Treasures (recipe below). Still, I certainly thought I’d find them at my local Tesco or Morrison’s. Nope. I had to go to three supermarkets to find pecans. Now, for anyone who reads this blog on a regular basis (hi mom) you’ll know I’ve a slight obsession with pecans in my baked goods. Cashews and pine nuts are great for savory, but when it comes to sweet, if a nut is waiting in the wings, I want to see that pecan centre stage. Apparently the walnut is the prima ballerina in the baking aisle of the supermarkets here in the UK. I don’t dislike the walnut, but have never really understood the big fuss.

Note: I’d just like to add that after all of this (chatting with the farmers and scavenger hunting for pecans), the rain did stop and the sun came back out...

...about 10 minutes after returning home. I was happy as a lark, but soaked and looking like a drowned rat.

For dinner that night I made a luscious roast chicken with some Maris Piper potatoes and purple sprouting broccoli, all purchased at the farmer’s market. The potatoes were of rock-star quality.

Roasted Maris Piper potatoes with garlic, truffle oil, and parmesan
1. Par-boil 4-5 small potatoes per person, drain water
2. Cut potatoes into small pieces and toss them with equal parts olive oil and truffle oil (I was making for 3 so used about 1 tbsp of each)
3. Finely chop 4 cloves of garlic (the more the merrier) and add to potatoes with ½ tsp sea salt
4. Cook potatoes in a pan under the roast chicken (so juices drips on top)
5. Stir frequently and cook until potatoes are of your crisp-level preference (even being par-broiled I had mine in the oven for nearly 1 ½ hours to get them perfectly browned)

Hidden Treasures
These cookies are very similar to a Mexican tea cookie. In fact, since I couldn't hunt down my grandmother's recipe I followed the one below from epicurious.com.

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/105939

The main difference which provides the name "Hidden Treasure" is that inside the cookie you'll find a hidden luscious piece of chocolate. Historically this chocolate should be a Hershey's Kiss. Since these can't be found in the UK, I ended up using some Belgian praline chocolates that a friend had given me as a gift instead. Really, any chocolate will do. Next time, might give the cookies a go with some Buttons.

One word versus two

Coffeecake.

Coffee + Cake.

Last night I met LM for a special early screening of a popular chick flick that’s coming out in a few weeks time. In order to have a bit of time for the goss, we decided to meet earlier to catch up over some coffee and maybe cake. I’d told her I’d do one better…I would make some homemade coffeecake and bring it along.

This brings me to an interesting dichotomy (yet another) between food in the UK vs. food in the US. This time the difference is simple, Coffeecake versus Coffee + Cake.

In the UK, apparently only Coffee + Cake exists. Rummaging around the BBC food website I found no entries for Coffeecake and 5 for Coffee + Cake. The thing is, all of these recipes involved both cake and coffee in some way. Makes sense I guess, but for people who are familiar with Coffeecake (a lovely light cake often prepared with cinnamon and nuts but rarely with actual coffee as an ingredient), it was a complete 180 from what I'd been searching for (e.g. 10-minute cappuccino trifles was 1 of the 5 recipes that appeared).

Bringing the leftover cake into work today, I had this confirmed by at least half a dozen friends. Every single time someone asked what kind of cake it was I had to go into this drawn-out schpiel about how technically it was called Coffeecake, but please folks - don't expect a coffee taste...bladeeblahblah. Over and over again.

So, what I've learned is that Coffeecake, as it lives and breathes in the US doesn’t have an England stamp in it's passport. However, I'm proud to say that I'm educating the British public. There are now at least 6 British friends who can tell the 1 to 2 word difference.

Sour Cream and Apricot Coffee Cake (adapted from the Silver Palate Cookbook)

2 sticks butter (225 grams)

2¾ granulated sugar

2 beaten eggs

2 cups flour

1 tbs baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

1 cup sour cream

11/2 tsps vanilla extract

11/2 cups chopped pecans

2 tbs cinnamon

¾ cup apricot preserves

1. Preheat oven to 350 F (175 C)

2. Grease a bundt or cake pan and dust with flour

3. Cream butter and 2 cups sugar. Add eggs and then sour cream and vanilla.

4. Sift flour, baking powder, and salt. Add to butter mixture.

5. In a separate bowl, combine remaining sugar, nuts, and cinnamon.

6. Pour half of batter into pan. Drop half of apricot preserves in spoonfuls around pan. Sprinkle half of sugar and pecan mixture on top.

7. Add remaining batter, remaining jam, and remaining sugar and nuts.

8. Place in middle of oven and bake for 60-70 minutes (check after 55). Tester should come out clean when inserted into middle.

Smooth landing

Having been in a holding pattern for the past few weeks due to both foreseeable and unforeseeable work-related reasons, I was able to come in for a smooth landing over the weekend. Friends forgave me for being completely MIA over the past month, the sun shone brightly and briskly over my London streets, I partook in some scrummy pink prosecco and pints of beer, caught up on my yoga, and was able to do some hard-core cooking.

I’d been on the fence about making either some gourmet mac 'n cheese or just some old-school spaghetti and meat sauce. Digging around my fridge I discovered I had nearly all the ingredients for both. Thinking that if I made one of them next week, some ingredients would protest at their misuse (or lack thereof) I squashed the imminent revolt and just made both.

So what if I currently have enough food in my kitchen to easily serve 15 people? That’s what my extraordinarily large freezer (for London) is for. Plus, ever the planner – having JB over for dinner tomorrow night and MBG over from NYC later in the week – I knew I needed to keep my friends well fed.

Now the chocolate toffee bars I made as a last minute addition are a different story. Why did I make them? I suppose the answer to that question is the very scientific 3rd grade response of, “well, why not?”

A side note about these brownies...
Growing up there was never a baked good far away and they often manifested themselves in a circular rotation. Chocolate brownies (the world famous ones mentioned in a previous entry), brown sugar brownies, dream bars, and toffee squares were the ones on repeat mode. This toffee square recipe comes from an old-school land-o-lakes butter recipe book that I think was purchased at Stop and Shop in the 80’s. They are still one of my all-time favourites.

I suppose having two older brothers scarf most of them up before I could even really get to them meant they didn’t do too much damage to my growth (unless you count the ridiculous amount of times I had to go to the dentist). I'll just chock that up to genetics.

Gourmet Mac and Cheese – Adapted from Foster’s Market Cookbook
Note: This is one of my all-time favourite cookbooks. Every recipe I've ever made from it has been absolutely delicious (and ridiculously fattening). There is a scientific correlation here.

1 lb (450 grams) orechiette, ziti or penne pasta (I used penne)
1 cup sour cream (I used crème fraiche)
1 tbsp olive oil
3 tbsp butter
1 diced onion
1/3 cup flour
3 cups milk (I used semi-skim)
1 ½ cups sharp cheddar cheese, shredded
½ cup parmesan cheese
85 grams (3 oz) cream cheese (I used reduced fat)
1 large bag spinach
½ cup sun dried tomatoes
1 tbsp lemon juice
2 chicken breasts
Salt and pepper

1. Preheat oven to 350 F or 176 C
2. Grease a 9 x 13 pan
3. Bake chicken on separate tray for 10 minutes until nearly cooked through, cut into pieces and set aside
4. While chicken is cooking, cook pasta and then toss with sour cream
5. Heat oil and butter in a large pot. Sauté onion for 2-4 minutes until translucent
6. Stir flour into onion, stirring constantly for approximately 3 minutes or until flour is brown
7. Slowly whisk milk and cook, stirring until it boils and thickens (about 5 mins)
8. Remove from heat and add cheddar, parmesan, cream cheese, spinach, sun dried tomatoes, lemon juice and chicken. Stir until spinach wilts
9. Add to pasta and sour cream with some salt and pepper to taste
10. Bake in dish (uncovered) for 40-45 minutes


Toffee Squares
http://www.landolakes.com/mealIdeas/ViewRecipe.cfm?RecipeID=4368D

This is one of those rare recipes that I don’t switch up at all. Just be careful when making the toffee. One trick is to place a cold glass of water next to you. When you think it might be done use a fork and drop a tiny bit of the toffee into the cold water. If it solidifies into a ball it means it’s done. I've no idea when I was taught this, but for some strange reason it works.