This one goes out to all you marathoners out there. All you celiacs. All you vegans. This is the back-pocket recipe I wish I had over the last two years, when I was training my ass off, hungry all the time and only half-heartedly fooling myself into thinking I could eat whatever I wanted. These vegan, gluten-free chocolate peanut butter banana energy bites have everything I want in a sweet, satisfying treat, and nothing I don’t need. Continue reading →
These days are lazy. As the weather has warmed, my appetite for — and desire to cook — heavy, bready things has waned. Gone are the consistent cravings for bagels every other day. Many weekends, I don’t even want pancakes. Blasphemy! I’ve been beginning most of my days lately with yogurt, fruit, and granola, and then often have a second breakfast at lunchtime with avocado toast topped with a fried egg. Really, most of what I want these days includes protein and fruits and vegetables. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still crave some luxury on a Sunday morning. I just want it to include less flour, more eggs, and be topped with yogurt and fresh fruit. Thank goodness for the FauxMartha’s Blender Dutch Baby, because now it’s all I want to make to sate my weekend morning sweet tooth. Continue reading →
Spring has finally arrived: the sun is out this week, and rhubarb has been spotted — and picked through and procured — at the Union Square Greenmarket. “O, frabjous day! Callooh, callay!” she chortled in her joy. But what to do with these nearly neon pinky-green, celery-like stalks? Especially when trucked-in, beat-up strawberries are still upwards of $6 or $7 at the supermarket? Can rhubarb stand alone? The answer, unabashedly, is yes. And with a sweet, crackly, crumbly crisp envelope and a touch of orange, they shine as brightly as that sun out there. Continue reading →
This isn’t a post about moms. The ones who wake in the middle of the night at your slightest cough or gasp from a nightmare. The ones who schlep from one end of town to another, to the next town, and back again, for figure skating lessons, violin lessons, piano lessons, general shenanigans. The ones who give in and get you a cat when you’re six years old, have you jumping around your living room with your brother at the thought of bringing home a tiny grey kitten-friend. The ones who hold your hand as you wade through life’s murky waters, are okay with a phone call in the middle of the day while they’re at work just because you’re bored or lonely or wondering what to do about a weird burn. The ones who teach you “if you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.” The ones who are there for you, every single moment of every single day, without you ever having to ask, because being a mom means being completely selfless.
No, this isn’t about that. My mom hates coconut, and I did not plan very well this week. This weekend I’m making my mom key lime pie, but this post is really about Coconut Banana Nut Muffins. After all, Mom did teach me to listen to my body and eat the things I crave.
Last week, we welcomed my nephew into the world: a tiny, pink, strong bundle of love who moves as if he were underwater, looks at us as if trying to understand, then closes his eyes to process where he is, what he’s seen, what he’s felt. I’ve been spending a lot of time wondering what he’s thinking, how his wires are translating his surroundings, the love, the touch of his beautiful, amazing mother and his wonderful father — my brother, now a dad. It’s made me think about life as a continuum, life as stars — tiny specks of light that take generations to reach the eye. The idea that we never truly die if we leave something behind: writing, wisdom, life, knowledge.
So I thought it was only appropriate when we gathered as a family at their apartment after my brother and sister-in-law returned home with their new little life, to bring them our great-grandma’s coffee cake — my mom’s staple, her last-minute dessert, so simple and satisfying in its ease. But at the same time, I wanted to give it a new twist to celebrate the newest generation in our family. And thus was also born cardamom coffee cake. Continue reading →
If you were to ask me what my number one, go-to, last-minute pasta dish is, I wouldn’t hesitate to say spaghetti aglio e olio. If you were to ask me what my number one, go-to, ridiculously-easy, don’t-feel-like-standing-in-front-of-the-stove pasta dish is, I would say this: Marcella Hazan’s four-ingredient tomato sauce. Continue reading →
Happy Pi Day! I hadn’t even realized this momentous occasion was approaching until my friend Katrina reminded me last week. She’d been thinking about it for at least a month — usually she throws a big 3.14 pie and bourbon party, but sadly, it’s a Monday, and bourbon doesn’t mix very well with work (unless it’s Friday). At the time, we had been messaging back and forth about flavor combinations, wondering, what fruit is in season? Is it still okay to use pumpkin? (the answer is yes.) She settled on making lovely little vegan hand-pies with apple and a coconut oil crust from Oh LadyCakes, which I’m dying to get my hands on. When she reminded me last week and I got to thinking about my own, though, I presented the idea to the fella: yes, I would make a pie. What pie should I make? He instantly asked for French silk — no hesitation. I hesitated. Somehow I picture chocolate and cool whip, but I’m sure there’s a better version. Still, I wanted fruit — I always want fruit pie. While he was thinking I was running through all the fruits currently available at my local market — “well, I could do pear,” I thought. “Maybe those blueberries from Chile…” And then he asked for key lime pie, and the rest is history.
There is no better expression of love than a good episode of The Simpsons. Watched together, on the couch, with two big bowls of pasta and maybe a furry kitty between you. It’s what we did the first night we moved into our very own apartment together, just the two of us, four years ago, taking those tiny but bold steps towards something bigger and lasting. Whenever we’re blue, or distraught, or maybe just watched something too intensely depressing, we turn to The Simpsons — together. We re-watch scenes over and over, noticing tiny details that we hadn’t caught the first 38 times around. We double over in laughter. We quote Mr. Burns, Grampa, Marge, Homer, Ralph Wiggum, everyone. And it never, ever gets old. That’s love, right?
Love is also made of pastry. Candies and chocolates are great. So are brownies, and cookies, and cakes. But sometimes — like maybe on Valentine’s Day — you want to do something extra special. Something that maybe doesn’t take a whole lot of work, but is French, and is, as such, fancy, and instantly impressive. I’m talking about choux pastry — pâte à choux. That gorgeously crisp pastry dough that puffs up in the oven, leaving a just barely custardy space inside for pastry cream, or whipped cream, or ice cream, or nothing at all. I’m talking profiteroles, I’m talking eclairs. But first, I’m talking chouquettes. Continue reading →
When I was a kid, every once in a while my mom would treat us to something extra special: French toast for dinner. Simple. White bread, dredged in egg wash, fried in butter, dusted with granulated sugar, and cut into squares, like a checker-board. It’s the way her mom used to do it when she was little, and it’s probably the way I will if I have kids of my own. The crunch of the sugar on top of the bed of golden bread was unbeatable. Now that I’m older — well, I still let other people make French toast for me. And my goodness can my fella make French toast. He takes his time — makes sure the bread is perfectly soaked (not too little, not too much), and perfectly cooked at just the right temperature — and just knows intrinsically how to flavor it just right. But one day we wondered: what would it be like with ALL the spices? What if we made Gingerbread French Toast? Continue reading →
All too often, we spend too much time apologizing for words and actions, or silence and inactions, for which we have no reason to apologize. For speaking too quietly, for asking someone to repeat something he said. For having dinner ready half an hour later than we intended. For asking for help. And for not baking, or writing a blog post, for two and a half weeks. I want to say I’m sorry. I want to throw myself at the mercy of the few of you who read this blog, apologize for having external deadlines, interviews, a raging stomach flu. But I won’t.
Instead, I’ll present to you this gorgeous flourless chocolate cake. Hailing from the brain of the wonderful David Lebovitz, it has four ingredients that you very well might already have in your pantry, and is an easy go-to for a last-minute dinner party — or, hell, a last-minute chocolate craving. I made this for the second night of Passover, when I was no longer sick but hadn’t had any energy to go running around looking for matzoh meal or cake meal or even almonds or hazelnuts or coconut. What I did have was nearly a whole Pound-Plus Bar of bittersweet chocolate, eggs, sugar, and butter. And, with only a few minutes of prep, it was probably the only thing I had the energy to stand in my kitchen for.
