Pastimes

As my relatively leisurely elective period comes to an end, I've been enjoying Benoit Mandelbrot's quirky autobiography. I'm generally annoyed by novels whose protagonists live a sort of charmed life during which they are prominently inserted into most of the major events of the era*. Mandelbrot interacts with virtually every major scientific and mathematical figure alive during his scientific upbringing, but only occasionally due to charm. His uncle was part of the Bourbaki, his father a practical genius, he himself a genius of all sorts. It's fascinating to read how his interactions with the great (largely) men of the era laid the foundation for one of the most ingenious mathematical advances ever to be made. Nowadays, one tends to be pigeonholed out of being a scientific polyglot; reading this autobiography, I wonder just how much of a drawback that is. And I wonder what happened to Benoit's brother Leon, and whether Leon ever felt jealous of living in Benoit's shadow. If this were a novel, Benoit might have some insights at the denoument of a great family disagreement...

Oh, and it's cold. Just the weather for dishes like shakshuka with spinach and Indian spices, or persimmon-turmeric oatmeal with plenty of grated fresh ginger and a hit of blood orange juice.

Good books, warm food... I'll just stay inside, thanks.

*For an exception, see Les Bienveillantes by Jonathan Littell. For not an exception, see The Long Ships by Frans Bengtsson.

This year

Oh, John Darnielle, you and your eerily perfect combination of morbid and catchy. How do you do it? (Actually, morbid and New Year's Eve seem to go together in the arts; two of the numerous books I've recently finished feature terrible things happening to morally ambiguous people on that momentous occasion. Of the two, I'd more strongly recommend Ten Thousand Saints, by Eleanor Henderson. Despite my recent glut of  books featuring tortured adolescent-to-young-adult male protagonists, its unique perspective on a more dangerous New York was striking, to say the least.)

Ringing in 2015 with this and other combinations... like elderflower, berry, and citrus. What's not to love about a berry pastry cream-filled Meyer lemon cupcake with fragrant St. Germain frosting and a sprinkle of toasted almonds to cut through all those florals?

Lemon cupcakes
2 sticks melted butter (room temperature) or oil
3/4 cup Meyer lemon juice
1/4 cup water
1 1/3 cups sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup Greek yogurt
2 tsp vanilla
2 tbsp lemon zest
2 cups flour
3/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp baking soda

Whisk the sugar into the butter/oil, then add the lemon juice, vanilla, water, yogurt, eggs, and lemon zest. Slowly whisk the dry ingredients into this mixture. Fill muffin tins 3/4 of the way to the top and bake at 350F for 15-20 minutes. DO NOT open the oven until at least 15 minutes have passed.

Berry pastry cream
10.5 oz milk
2 eggs
1 egg yolk
1 oz cornstarch
3 oz sugar
pinch salt
1/2 to 2/3 cup berry puree (I used frozen raspberries and blackberries)
1/8 tsp almond or vanilla extract

Heat the milk to simmering. Meanwhile, whisk together the eggs, cornstarch, sugar, and salt. When the milk is simmering, whisk a small amount into the egg mixture to temper, then a little bit more to ensure the egg mixture is warm. Whisk egg mixture into the remaining milk, and add the berry puree. Heat, whisking, until mixture is very thick and begins to bubble. When it does, cook for at least 1 minute, or until it no longer has the taste of raw cornstarch. Remove from the heat and whisk in the extract. Sieve into a container and press plastic wrap over the surface. Cool completely before using.


St. Germain Swiss meringue buttercream
2 egg whites
110 g, or about 1/2 cup, white sugar
1 stick butter, room temperature and cut into cubes.
pinch salt
2 or 3 teaspoons St. Germain, or to taste

Over a double boiler, whisk the egg whites and sugar until the mixture reaches 160F. Remove from the heat. Using a stand mixer, whisk the egg white/sugar mixture on medium speed until the mixture is cool and holds soft-to-medium peaks. Whisk in the butter, chunk by chunk. Keep whisking even if it looks curdled! When it has become homogenous and fluffy, add the pinch of salt and St. Germain, and continue to mix until optimal texture is achieved.

All the Single Ladies

My helpmeet is away at his annual conference. I'm busy living the no-stop New York single life, which so far entails:

1. Having to do my own dishes. It's so good to come home from work to find a nice, clean kitchen. Now if I want that, I have to do it myself. Dammit, Andy, get back here and do some chores!

2. Chasing flies around the room with a bottle of Clorox GreenWorks (tee em) cleaning spray. A few flies got in the house and are buzzing around making me feel desperately unclean. I read online that a sprayed solution of dish soap kills them just as well as any nasty bug spray and figured I'd just try what I happened to have on hand. It's pretty effective... when I can hit them.

3. Eating ramen. I read something by David Chang about how his childhood snack consisted of Top Ramen with an egg, butter, and seaweed in it. I added an egg, seaweed, and the tiniest curl of butter, plus some chard, scallions, roasted carrots, and sesame seeds. Serves a particularly gluttonous one. It's heavenly.

Thrilling, right?

Great finds

There was callaloo at the Dag Hammarskjold Plaza Greenmarket!

Callaloo can actually refer to several plants; this is amaranth (which can also be called Caribbean spinach, water spinach, or Jamaican spinach). I've eaten it before, but never had a chance to cook with it. The way callaloo is prepared varies by country, of course, but it's frequently combined with okra, "creamed" with coconut milk, or simply steamed. In this case, I cooked it with tomatoes, onions, carrot, and a lot of garlic... and photographed it with a wobbly camera with a pen stuck in the missing battery cover slot. Sigh. So much for photo quality.

Sorry for potato quality.

I chose to put it with a whole roasted jerk porgy (cheapest fish at the market, even if I did have to scale and gut it myself*), and searched the Internet until I found a relatively simple, clean jerk sauce recipe. It was really good... once I'd added coriander and muscovado, reduced the salt level, and cut back on the thyme a little bit. Unfortunately, I wrote down the alterations but closed the link--which was open in incognito mode for some reason--and can't find it again. Recipe comes with caveats; I hope I remembered it correctly!

Ditto with the apology.

A tropical meal needs a tropical dessert: mojito cupcakes. I can't stand rum, but there's something about a touch of rum (well, rum extract) in a cupcake...

Andy's camera did a little better...

Whole roasted jerk fish
1 2-lb fish, snapper if you want to pay for it
bay leaves
onion slices
lime slices
jerk sauce (see below)

Clean your fish well and pat the skin completely dry. Salt both sides lightly and let sit for 10-15 minutes, then wipe dry again. Stuff the fish with lime slices, onion slices, and 3-5 bay leaves. Make a series of shallow diagonal cuts in this pattern on either side of the fish. Coat thoroughly with jerk sauce on both sides and marinate for 30 minutes or so, flipping and re-coating once with sauce. Preheat the oven to 425. Roast the fish about 15 minutes, depending on the thickness, until just slightly underdone. At that point, turn the oven to broil in order to crisp the skin and finish cooking. Serve with a slice of lime.

Jerk sauce (I think)
1 small onion, chopped
3 scallions, chopped
1 tsp coriander
1 to 1 1/2 tsp nutmeg
1 1/2 to 2 tsp dried thyme
1 1/2 tbsp ground allspice
1 tbsp ground ginger
1 tbsp black pepper
1/2 tbsp muscovado or brown sugar
1 tbsp salt
1/2 habanero (or a little less than that of Scotch bonnet)
1/4 c white vinegar (might have been 1/2??)
2 tbsp soy sauce (might have been 1/4 c??)

Blend it all in a blender or food processor. Adjust salt level.

Callaloo and okra
3 cups okra, fresh or frozen/defrosted, sliced into 1-inch chunks
1 large bunch callaloo (mine was somewhat massive...)
1 small onion
2 tomatoes, chopped
5 cloves garlic (yes, 5), thinly sliced
1 carrot, finely chopped
oil or butter

Melt the oil/butter in a large saucepan. Saute the onions until translucent. Add garlic, carrot, and salt until onions are soft and garlic is fragrant. Add chopped tomatoes and okra; cook until juices release and tomatoes begin to break down. Add the callaloo and cook, stirring, until greens are tender. Salt and pepper to taste.

Mojito cupcakes
1/2 c butter, room temperature
2/3 c granuated sugar
1/3 c dark brown sugar
2 eggs
zest and juice of 2 large limes
fresh mint, finely minced
1/4 tsp rum extract (may increase to taste)
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/2 c all-purpose flour
1 1/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 c sour cream or yogurt
1/3 c milk

Mix dry ingredients together in a medium-sized bowl. Whisk yogurt/sour cream and milk in a separate container. In a large bowl, cream butter and sugars until fluffy. Add eggs, 1 at a time, followed by lime juice/zest, mint, and extracts. Alternate adding flour mixture and milk mixture, beginning and ending with flour mixture, blending just until combined. Fill lined cupcake tins a little over halfway each. Bake at 325 F for 18-22 minutes or until cupcakes spring back when lightly pressed. Cool completely before assembly.

To assemble, pipe or spread on the frosting and roll in or sprinkle the minty sugar rocks. Finish with a little grind of sea salt on top.

Minty sugar rocks
1 c sugar
1/3 c water
1/2 tbsp honey
1 c fresh mint
green food coloring (optional)
pinch salt

Put all ingredients in a small sauce pan and bring to a boil, whisking just until sugar is fully dissolved. Cook to the hard-crack stage (300-310 F), swirling occasionally. Immediately pour through a metal strainer onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, tipping the pan to spread sugar in an even 1/4-inch thick layer (although it doesn't really matter all that much, since you'll be grinding it anyway). Cool completely. Break up with a mortar and pestle or by hand.

Alternatively, see this link for making rock candy if you want a truly lovely topping and have a little foresight.

Mint lime frosting
1 stick butter, room temperature
1-2 tbsp heavy cream
zest and juice of 1 lime
3-4 tbsp finely chopped fresh mint
powdered sugar
1 pinch salt
optional: rum or rum extract

Cream together the butter, 1/4 c powdered sugar, heavy cream, lime juice zest, salt, and optional rum/rum extract. Continue to add powdered sugar to taste or texture. Keep chilled until ready to frost cupcakes.

*It's been awhile since I've cleaned a fresh fish, and I've never done so inside an edifice that I cared about keeping clean, much less a teeny-weeny New York kitchen. Scales. Scales everywhere.

Parthas

This may come as a shock: being an intern is rough. I absolutely loved my sub-internship*, but it's been an exercise in accepting the fact that cooking healthfully and exercising regularly is hard when you're a junior doctor. I mostly ended up eating Way Too Much Thai Food, oatmeal, and huge bunches of chard cooked with garlic.

There's nothing better than garlicky, tender chard, except for garlicky, tender chard eaten in the presence of someone with no sense of smell. Or kale. Or green beans. How I love green beans (which are called grüne Bohne in German).

I did have time to make some awesome carrot cake cupcakes, sweet potato pie, and pizza with a new crust recipe from Flour Water Salt Yeast. The texture of this crust was worlds better than that of my usual. I can't get away from the white wine and molasses from my old recipe, though. Next time, I'll try the FWSY process with those ingredients included; hopefully it won't much alter the structure of the dough.

The sweet potato pie... well, I remembered the recipe at the time I made it, which was about two weeks ago. At this point, all I know is that I used about a pound and a half of slow-roasted sweet potato, three eggs--yolks directly mixed into the batter, whites whipped until stiff and gently folded in--brown sugar, cayenne, cinnamon, cloves, and no flour whatsoever. The crust has oats and wheat bran in it.

To celebrate Match Day** and our three-year marriage anniversary, Andy and I walked the length of Manhattan today (and totally got one-upped as soon as we got home and saw the NYC subreddit), starting at 215th St., heading down Broadway until 60th St., and continuing down 7th Avenue until we hit SoHo.

South Seaport at last! It took us about five hours, including stops for breakfast (diner fare in Harlem), lunch (sushi in Chelsea), and caffeine (once under the overpass just north of Columbia, once in the Financial District). Perhaps doing this walk after a big deadlift day was less than intelligent; my thighs are informing me that victory tastes bittersweet.

*in which we get long coats and pagers and prescribing privileges (with oversight, of course) and pretend to be interns
**Possibly the happiest day of my life: first choice, and I get to stay in New York one more year so as not to abandon Andy while he finishes his PhD!

Ay and oh times none

We thought we'd lost our laundry card. We tore our (very tiny) house apart looking for the damn thing, even as I swore up and down that I put it in our usual place and had no idea what happened to it. It got to the point where we borrowed a downstairs neighbor's card because the hamper was bubbling over with socks and my sock drawer was a gaping maw of emptiness. And then I woke up one morning and there it was, sitting on my desk. Not quite Rod Serling material, but still, a deeply bizarre experience for all involved.

I blame sub-I. I also blame sub-I for a. talking in my sleep during a poorly conceived nap today about having to wake up urgently and complete discharge summaries; and b. not blogging at all.

I didn't photograph them, but I brought carrot cake cupcakes* to call today. Precisely one week ago, I brought pastries made of croissant dough filled with blackberry jam or cream cheese whipped with Meyer lemon zest and confectioner's sugar:

The idea for these little guys came purely from the fact that, now that NYUSoM's housing authority has sent a stern e-mail saying that no current NYU medical student will be offered housing next year, thereby neatly squashing my pipe dream of a blissful transition to internship. Andy already created a tornado of Craigslist searches; I'm coping by trying to empty the fridge of half-full jars, jugs, and bottles. The jam is first on the chopping block.

And what better to do with my last day off before a 7-day stretch than to stroll to Union Square, load up on groceries, and make something with too many components.

These carrots are seared in olive oil, then slow-roasted for about 45 minutes until tender; it's a great technique that needn't be dish-intensive if one has a cast-iron skillet. I even managed to coax great carroty flavor out of the rather tough post-winter carrots at the Greenmarket. The mushrooms are tossed in paprika and soy sauce, then slow-roasted. It's all over lentils stewed with juniper and onions.

For the final touches, there's a brown butter vinaigrette, crunchy quinoa clusters (recipe by Mark Bittman), and toasted walnuts. Labor-intensive, yes, but a soothing alternative to the hectic labor of floor medicine.

*Andy apparently loves carrot cake. How wonderful it is to discover new ways to make one's spouse a type 2 diabetic!

Think of England

I'm getting the catchup out of the way so that I can return to glamorous activities like going to the theater in the East Village wearing a Miro-print dress.

Because that's definitely an activity in which I engage more regularly than, say, taking a two-hour nap in the middle of the afternoon, bracketed by the rapid and violent consumption of multiple apples and followed by an evening of browsing the Internet and watching Andy play League of Legends. So glamorous.

More provisions for what I'm now calling persistent carb weather (because polar vortex is so end-of-2013).

Will someone please explain to me what differentiates ice
pellets from freezing rain from girth-challenged hail?

Polenta is great even when it's not fried golden-brown. This is topped with roasted bell peppers marinated in balsamic vinegar, caper juice, oregano, and olive oil; toasted walnuts; crispy shaved brussels sprouts; and a poached egg. I wish I'd cooked the polenta in water (or mostly water) instead of milk; it was weirdly creamy in a way that clashed with the Parmesan I'd cooked into it.

And here we have homemade mushroom and kale ravioli, the filling of which* I'm proud to say converted a friend who thought he hated kale. Using my brand-new ravioli press was... challenging. Because of a number of user errors, I thought the ravioli were kind of watery and was, at the time, ashamed to serve them to a non-spousal entity. I stand by the concept, though, and will refine the execution at some point.

And last but not least, have a bonus recipe debut for healthful whole-grain graham crackers containing, in the words of another friend, "seeds and other stuff that white people are into." They didn't turn out as crunchy as I would have liked, but the taste was great. I'll troubleshoot them at some point as well.

Whole-grain graham crackers

1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup almond flour
1/3 c wheat bran
1/4 c raw millet
1/4 c flaxseeds
1/2 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp baking powder
3/4 tsp salt
1 tsp cinnamon
5 tbsp olive oil (or melted butter)
5 tbsp honey
1/2 tbsp molasses
1/4 c milk (which may have sabotaged the crispy factor, and which I may do away with next time)

Preheat the oven to 350 F. Mix all ingredients together; it will form a stiff, yet still sticky dough. Roll out on a piece of parchment paper to about 1/8-inch thickness. Sprinkle with a little cinnamon, mixed with brown sugar if you want a sweeter cookie.

*Kale, wild mushroom blend, pinch of nutmeg

Bread weather

I've been on an orthopedics service for the last week. Between waking up very early and spending most of the afternoon agonizing over my rank list*, I've been able to cook, but too drained lazy to blog. Catchup time!

For those of us who live under a rock on Pluto, cold and slush have overtaken the Northeast. I'd failed to capitalize on this with anything but a ruined umbrella and damp socks. Cue a timely bread-baking session yesterday! Two loaves later:

This is a poolish-based seeded loaf based on a recipe for harvest bread from Flour Water Salt Yeast. A poolish is a preferment with a one-to-one flour-to-water ratio (by weight, of course), which some books might refer to as 100% hydration. This Eastern European preferment is less sharp than a sourdough-type starter. It's also more susceptible to ambient temperatures, since the total fermenting time is short compared to a true starter. I love the slightly sweet, buttery flavor a poolish gives to the finished crust, not to mention how resource- and time-parsimonious it is compared to a sourdough starter.

Happy poolish!

The recipe below makes one loaf. We, however, are gluttons.

To assess for proofing, poke the bread. If the indentation slowly
bounces back, it's ready to go. If it rapidly springs back, it's not
sufficiently proofed; if it stays indented, it's overproofed.

Because I'm trying to get rid of the minute amounts of random ingredients that are lurking in my cabinets--lurking in a cramped way, that is--I threw in 46 g of buckwheat flour**. While I didn't have any wheat bran, in went a couple handfuls each of sunflower seeds, flax seeds, raw millet, parcooked wheat berries, and oats. Buckwheat is delicious, but in this case I felt like it distracted a little from the otherwise subtle bread. I'm going to load it up with more seeds next time, especially millet, and coat the outside of the loaf with a seed blend as well.

Harvest seed bread
With all due credit to Ken Forkish

Poolish:
250 g white flour
250 g 80 F water
0.4 g dried yeast

The night before baking, mix the ingredients by hand in a 6-quart tub until completely blended. Cover and leave out overnight at room temperature, between 65 and 70 F. When it is done, 12 to 14 hours later, it will have tripled in volume and be bubbly, with bubbles visibly popping on the surface. It will last 1-2 hours, depending on how warm your room is. If room temperature in your house is more than 70 F, be sure to check a little earlier so your poolish doesn't age beyond its bubbly peak.

Final dough:
200 g white flour
50 g whole wheat flour
140 g 105 F water
11 g sea salt
1.5 g yeast
25 g wheat germ
10 g wheat bran
Assorted nuts and seeds
All the poolish

Pour the water around the perimeter of the poolish and loosen it from the tub. Then add the remainder of the ingredients. Mix by hand; you can wet your hand as much as you want when you mix, but it's a very sticky dough. The end temperature will be variable; I didn't even bother to measure. The dough will need two folds during the first hour after mixing. Let it rise for 2 to 3 hours, or until 2.5 times its original volume.

Turn out the dough onto a floured surface and shape into a medium-tight ball. Dust a proofing basket (makeshift or otherwise) with flour and place the loaf seam side down in the basket. You can also coat the basket with more seeds or bran for an extra-crunchy outside. Lightly flour the top, cover with a kitchen towel, and proof for 45 min to an hour. Mine proofed in just under 45 minutes; check early.

As soon as you start proofing, put a rack in the middle of the oven and place a Dutch oven with a lid on in it. Preheat the oven to 475 F while the loaf is proofing, to allow the Dutch oven to reheat. Carefully invert the proofed loaf onto a lightly floured surface. Remove the Dutch oven and very carefully place the loaf in the Dutch oven, seam side up. Cover and bake for 30-35 minutes, then uncover and bake for 20-25 minutes, or until the loaf is deep brown to dark brown.

Remove the loaf from the Dutch oven and let cool on a rack or on its side (for maximum air circulation) for at least 20 minutes before slicing and serving.

*My personal decision deadline is today. Basically, this.
**N.b.: Buckwheat flour, teff flour, and millet flour are among the many gluten-free flours out there. Unless you have celiac disease--in which case you probably shouldn't be eating this bread anyway--you'll have to add gluten to make up for the amount of all-purpose you're cutting out. I calculated that there are 5.5 g gluten in 46 g all-purpose flour and added that amount to the blend.

Fresh

I never want to eat restaurant food again. Baffling, right? Well, what with all the traveling over the past couple months*, interview dinners, interview breakfasts, and interview lunches, it feels like ages since I've had a nice, fresh, healthful home-cooked meal consisting primarily of vegetables.

You'd think that when I had a day at home, I'd make a big salad, or perhaps a light mushroom soup. Only one thing: I got a KitchenAid pasta set for Christmas! To be specific, I got one from my husband, one from my in-laws, and one from my mother. I couldn't not make pasta.

At least this fettucini with walnut sauce over an arugula salad lightly dressed with lemon and capers included some greens. The fish on top is sole, and the portion is huge because it was for Andy. The temptation to make spaghetti and lasagna and ravioli with the greatest of ease is too great. The low-salt, low-oil salad that I know I should be eating just doesn't match up.

Now please excuse me while I go do New Yorky things in New York for the four days I have before leaving town again.

*Still going to Boston and San Francisco. My last interview is the last day of January, after which I plan to enjoy a prolonged period in New York with zero time on buses or trains.

Seasonal appetite disorder

I just finished The Violent Land, by Jorge Amado, on the way home from a recent residency interview. It was Halloween and cold and I had stuff to carry, so I treated myself to a cab ride home from Penn Station, and the cabbie serendipitously turned out to be from Brazil. It also turns out he's an exceptionally well-read person who recommended some lesser-known Amado works, and the author Clarice Lispector. We also discussed Chagas disease. This, ladies and germs, is why I'm having a hard time envisioning a life outside NYC at the moment.

Winter is actually upon us*. I have pathetically little experience making tomato sauce, but what I do know is that winter tomatoes are generally gross. Canned tomatoes are anywhere from good to completely unpalatable. Unfortunately, having neglected to spend the warmer months actually learning to jar fresh tomato sauce made from quality summertime goods, I have to figure out how to bolster the best-quality canned ones I can get**. Solution: a little red wine.

This is penne alla vodka, with red wine in the tomato sauce as mentioned. Yes, it's basically booze sauce with extra booze. Yes, it was rich and delicious.

Time to wrap up the Great Apple Tasting of 2013:

Golden Russet: Kind of grassy, with a thick, slightly bitter skin. Very rustic-tasting!

Snow: Just say no. The sign at the apple stand called this variety "crisp with beautiful pure white flesh." The aesthetically pleasing innards could not overcome the mealy, watery texture.

York: This one tasted sort of like a cider apple, not too sweet, and again very rustic. Just my style, but I can see how it wouldn't be for everyone.

*Stupid short days. All I want to do is stare morosely at the pitch-black sky at 5 p.m. and binge-eat everything in the house.
**Which, as it turns out, come from Trader Joe's.

Our Cod is an awesome Cod

Waterzooi: the Belgian bouillabaise.

While this was leek-ier than I intended--note to self: recipes probably do not intuit that you're buying massive farmers market leeks when they call for "three leeks"--it was also incredibly good. The soup is traditionally thickened with heavy cream and egg yolks. I slimmed it down a bit by going for olive oil instead of butter and just a little whole milk and egg.

Professional chef I am not. It took awhile to messily
julienne all these vegetables... and the unpictured leeks.

Best paired with a local Hudson Valley dry cider!

I slimmed it down for the wallet by buying on-sale cod instead of the halibut or mixed seafood traditionally used in the dish. The stew was definitely less rich than a waterzooi should be, I suppose, but it got the point across. I still put in saffron, so it still counts as fancy! Other reasons to use the cheap fish: dropping $15 on many, many apples at the Greenmarket. Crazy? Maybe.

I bought enough for a dense, moist apple cake based on a recipe from the Talk About Good Louisiana Junior League cookbook*...

Hard not to eat off the crispy top before even turning out
the cake. Sort of wish I'd glazed it with honey, too.

Warm, moist, spicy delicious.

So. Much. Chopping.

..and still have enough for my newly annual apple tasting. I'm holding myself back to two or three apples a day, so here's the progress so far (with quarters for size reference).

Ashby: Meh. The thick, tart skin was the best part, but the flesh was rubbery and the taste not all that distinct from a Golden Delicious.

Baldwin: Aside from being quite pretty, this one had an interesting, creamy undertone with hints of melon.

Black Twig: Generic, but not in a bad way. It was... an apple, but as fresh and apple-y an apple as you could ever wish for. Unfortunately, it looks like a Mackintosh, which puts me off because those are mushy and gross.

Winter Banana: I've mentioned these before, and they were just as delicious this time around.

*Nope, not kidding whatsoever.

One year without an accident

This is a fascinating case. This is a heartbreaking case. Read them both!

It's been a year since a gigantic hurricane munched its way through Manhattan. Imagine that! In commemoration, I am going to turn on my heat and cook a meal using all that delightfully uninterrupted electricity.

I've got a little pasta conundrum. Rolling out fresh pasta is an exhausting chore, one for which I would appreciate some mechanical assistance. Unfortunately, the KitchenAid stand mixer pasta attachment is very expensive, but a cheap twenty-to-thirty-dollar pasta roller takes up more room than we have. Time to put some muscle in it.

These pappardelle are not thin enough. Fortunately, they're still tasty with roasted shaved brussels sprouts, anchovy and garlic oil, shaved pecorino, and a squeeze of lemon juice.

I'm a glutton for punishment, sooo... ravioli next week?