It’s cookie season. The bane of my fitness’s existence (or lack thereof). I’ve probably eaten my weight in these crinkle cookies.
It’s also about that time of year when DC starts freaking ouuuuut about weather. It’s not raining too hard outside, but all of the paranoia has me worried about holiday travel.
I’ve been down that road too many times. After so many missed flight connections between last Christmas and this summer, I’ve already purchased all non-stop flights for the holidays. I refuse to let weather in Cleveland and Chicago and Dallas obstruct my travels.
In the meantime, I’ve been spending a lot of time inside. This weekend, Shaeda and I took an impromptu trip to Winchester, Virginia to visit our favorite thrift shop, as recommended by Sydney Lianne over at the Daybook — we even Tweeted at her and she tweeted back! It tied for the highlight of my day, along with the purchase of a 1970s automatic typewriter ($18) and a vintage mink stole ($65).
Side note, self portrait. See what I did there?
Anyway, after a day of driving and thrifting, I spent a glorious Saturday night in a bubble bath with some badly needed episodes of Dexter — my latest Netflix obsession. I also taught myself how to knit. That’s been fun. I desperately need a snood for these frigid bike rides to work.
Clearly, nothing that new has been happening here in DC. If you’re traveling this week, best of luck with the weather! Hope y’all have a lovely Thankgiving with your friends and families.
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees, and line two baking sheets with parchment paper (or silpats).
In a mixing bowl whisk together flour, cocoa powder, baking powder, baking soda and salt until evenly mixed. Set aside.
Using a stand mixer with the paddle attachment or an electric mixer, cream the butter and the sugar until it’s light and fluffy — maybe a 3-4 minutes. Add in the eggs, one at a time, and then mix in the vanilla, milk, and food coloring.
I usually switch to the dough hook attachment when I mix flour in — because flour literally gets everywhere when I don’t — and then slowly add the flour to the batter. Once it’s combined, add in your white chocolate chips.
Refrigerate the dough until it’s just slightly firm (I threw the bowl into the freezer for 5 minutes).
Using a 1-tablespoon-ish scoop, spoon dough balls from the bowl into a cup of powdered sugar, coating evenly. Arrange on your baking sheets, a couple of inches apart.
Bake for 13-14 minutes. This made about 30 cookies for me.
If you’re regular reader, you’re probably well aware of my obsession with sweet and salty combinations.
I honestly had the most wonderful weekend — these ice cream sandwiches were key, and probably should be part of every weekend for the rest of my life.
On Saturday, a handful of friends and strangers embarked on a river tubing trip. The weekend before, I had made these saltine ice cream bars. Naturally, I avoid them like the plague (especially when I know I’ll be wearing a bathing suit a few days later), so I piled the individually wrapped cracker bars into a ziploc and into a cooler bag. Let’s be real. I didn’t avoid them as much as I should have.
I borrowed Kristen’s car for the drive to West Virginia (and Virginia, and Maryland), and with fewer people tied to our bunch of inner tubes than I was expecting, I had way too many ice cream bars left. So after a couple of runs on the river (and a great roll of fisheye film), I did what I do best: I made friends.
There was the belligerent and NSFW-named team of 29 southern Marylanders who were too drunk to understand “does anyone want free homemade ice cream sandwiches?” but there was an awesome group of girls who were waiting for the bus back to the parking lot at the same time. So I did the college thing and walked over with a bag of melting ice cream bars.
How to make friends 101.
It even escalated to my handing out blog business cards (they’re just the cutest) and one of the girls begging me to cater a bridal shower — why not?
And it even carried through the evening, when I was out to drinks, and complimented a random lady’s super pretty criss-cross backless dress. I’m not exactly sure how it turned into a card exchange, but hey, it’s DC. At least my cards have photos worth salivating over.
Sunday was spent sleeping in, and eventually just chatting in my living room with the Baltimore friends, which later faded into a spontaneous sailing trip on the Chesapeake Bay. Gotta love being friends with awesome people who know other awesome people. I really couldn’t have asked for a better weekend.
This week, there’s a lot of freelance, and a lot of True Blood. Due to too much flopping in bed this weekend, I didn’t get anything cooked… so we’ll see how I hold up.
Saltine Brownie Ice Cream Bars, mostly from Lady and Pups
Sous chef Shaeda, here. I’ve been sharing the same mixers and cutting boards with Sarah for a couple of weeks now, and when it came time to whip up some magic in the kitchen I knew exactly what we needed. And how.
It’s just one of those weeks.
There is a sense of heaviness to the air that isn’t normally here this time of year. Winter has been clinging to DC, as of late. The weight of my green wool coat has been replaced by something entirely different, but still present. It’s the feel of a firm palm, gently pressing down onto my shoulders.
It’s spring here, though. Finally.
Nothing is quite the way it’s supposed to be. You know what I mean. The type of week where you long for Friday so much you can taste the anticipation in the back of your mouth. Nothing went quite the way I wanted it to from the moment I opened my eyes on Monday. After an impromptu but much needed trip to the West Coast, jet lag and hours of travel got the best of me. I woke up late, and from that very moment seemed to just escape falling into that weekly rhythm. Left my carefully-packed lunch sitting on the marble counter; neglected to include the address on an itinerary I swore I’d meticulously checked over and over.
After the events in Boston last week, we received an all-too-real reminder of how short and fleeting life is. It’s very easy to get swept up in the day-to-day minutia, to forget that each breath is a gift, not a right. The sudden loss this week of someone dear to me has punctuated that fact to me.
As a child, I had this habit. When things weren’t particularly going the right way, I would turn into myself. I’m almost certain I wasn’t the first (or only) child to use this as a coping mechanism, but I would close my eyes and imagine myself somewhere wonderful. Some place where the air was fresh and full of hope.
As a adult, I’ve learned to keep my eyes open. Gone is the complacent dreamer of yesterday; she stands tall and proud. I’ve learned to confront my demons head on. If that’s not enough, if I still I feel that weight on my shoulder, I bake.
When I stepped into the kitchen this week, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I’d left the oven idle for too long. Whenever I feel remotely stressed or glum, I reach for this recipe. This recipe has watched me grow. It’s held my hand through stress, through heartbreak; its watched me blossom from an unsure eighteen and ushered me into the unknown. Over the years, its become my hallelujah, hail mary, and reason to breathe when life decides to give it me a little too hard, to dig just a bit too deep. This is something I can always do right.
Today will be a better day. On this Wednesday, I hope you’ll join me and give this recipe a shot. The balance of decadent chocolate and coarse salt will give you that extra push to make it to Friday. Try and limit yourself to eating just one–I dare you.
Humpday Chocolate Cookies, egregiously adapted from Martha Stewart
8 oz. semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 stick butter
3/4 teaspoon table salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2/3 cup flour
1 and 1/3 cups brown sugar
1/3 cup white sugar
1 tsp vanilla extra
2 eggs
12 oz. chocolate chips of your choice
Sea salt for garnish (we used some Parisian grey salt)
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. In a microwave safe bowl, combine the butter and the coarsely-chopped chocolate. Heat in 20 second spurts, stirring well until chocolate is almost completely combined. In a small bowl, combine the flour, salt and baking powder; set aside.
Combine the sugars, eggs and vanilla extract in the bowl of standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or with a whisk, if your arm muscles can manage it) on low speed until light and fluffy. Add the melted chocolate until just combined, and then mix in dry ingredients. Once the flour mixture has incorporated, stir in the chocolate chips with a wooden spoon.
On a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, scoop a heaping tablespoon of the dough. Take care not to crowd the pan, as these puppies will expand. Bake for 12-15 minutes, until the tops glisten and crack. Sprinkle with grey salt while cooling. Note: you do not want these baked to a crisp. You’ll regret it.
But let me tell you — they are sti-cky. So sticky that I had to freeze them overnight just to get them to cut relatively cleanly. But once you let them thaw, they just melt in your mouth. It’s a cross between brownies, fudge, and heaven.
Last night, I had a few friends over for dinner. Some I see on the reg, but some I haven’t seen in what might have been months. It’s a shame how quickly time passes, sometimes.
I made these sandwiches, and the original plan was to picnic on the grass in Dupont Circle. But winter decided to make a comeback, so we decided to keep the dinner party inside.
These brownies weren’t on the menu (because I baked and photographed them a week ago) but I felt the need to make this excuse to reiterate my love for the new apartment. What was on the menu for dessert, well, you’ll find out soon enough.
Short post today, as most of my creative juice is being vacuumed up by the never-ending craziness that comes with being the only graphics person at a government agency. The last-minute rush projects really do send me running out the door.
3 ounces (85 grams) unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped
6 tablespoons (85 grams) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup (100 grams) sugar
1/2 cup (110 grams) brown sugar, packed
2 eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (62 grams) flour
Preheat oven to 350. Generously butter an 8×8 pan and line with two overlapping sheets of parchment paper. Butter the parchment and set aside.
In a heatproof bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water melt together the chocolate and butter, stirring occasionally, until smooth and completely melted. Turn off the heat and carefully remove the bowl (it will be hot!) from the pan of water and set it on a towel on your countertop.
Use a wooden spoon to stir in both sugars, then add the vanilla and salt and stir until combined. Add both eggs and mix until fully incorporated. Finally add the flour and stir vigorously until the batter is smooth and glossy.
Pour into the prepared pan and bake for 20-25 minutes. The brownies are done when a tester comes out with several crumbs attached (be sure to not overbake as a slightly underbaked brownie usually always wins). Let the brownies cool for several minutes then use the parchment to remove them from the pan. Slice n’ serve.
I’m feeling a little inspiration-deprived this week — when it comes to writing, anyway.
I spent the past couple of days visiting a couple of friends in Miami, where I effectively escaped whatever dregs of the Nemo storm that branched out towards DC. I also fell in love with Little Havana so much and so instantaneously that I booked another flight back to Miami before I even saw the city in daylight.
I may or may not have been pleasantly buzzed.
But sometimes, it doesn’t matter where you are or what everything looks like — sometimes, you miss someone so much that you’re just ecstatic to be in the same place.
So, what’s done is done.
Aside from the beautiful waters of South Beach, the food was amazing, and I spent a day kayaking from a mangrove swamp, to the ocean, to an island, and back. And naturally, I taught Dave how to cook a week’s worth of food in a Sunday evening (instead of letting him spend $150 on a Paleo delivery service). The conclusion of that cook sesh was that I need to open my own cooking school or specialty food delivery service.
Perhaps. I think I’d just rather have a Saturday night supper club when I live in a beautiful Brooklyn brownstone, someday.
Anyway, with Valentine’s Day around the corner, I’ve continued my love affair with chocolate. You can read more about the chocolate that I used for these truffles from another recent post, sponsored by Divine Chocolate — a fair trade chocolate company that hits closer to home than I thought it would!
I hope you have a fabulous week, and I hope you get adorable, kitchy Valentines from your friends and SOs. And — just try this recipe. Truffles are easier than you think.
With Valentine’s Day coming up, I thought a cute love story would be appropriate.
Clearly, it doesn’t involve me. It’s about my grandparents, who are just as madly in love today as the day they met.
One night while I was in California, my grandparents hosted a birthday dinner for my dad. I made this cake.
Anyway, I convinced my grandparents to let me film them telling the story of how they met. If you have 9 minutes to spare watching this video, I suggest you do. It’s quite a cute story.
Anyway, I’ve been looking for an excuse to let that story out.
And, with Valentine’s Day just a few weeks away, I must turn to the mother of all dessert ingredients: chocolate.
My love affair with chocolate goes back a long way.
Aside from wishing I could sustain a diet almost entirely of chocolate, I loved it so much that I even based my high school speech class on the history and processing of chocolate. Yes, I stood behind a podium, in front of 30 teenagers, speaking for ten minutes… about chocolate.
I sure hope they remember something from that.
I spent years as an international development geek, so when Divine Chocolate contacted me and asked me to write a post or two using their chocolate, I was ecstatic.
Divine Chocolate is a fair trade company that works with women in Ghana, a country that boasts the title of second largest cocoa exporter in the world. With the liberalization of Ghana’s cocoa market in the 1990s, one woman saw an opportunity to organize the cocoa farmers whose voices were not being heard (this hits so closely to what my last employer did that you’d think I’d deny its coincidence).
In this recipe, I used their cocoa powder — the cookies came out perfectly. And the packaging was so well-designed!
There are few things I love more than I love salt. There are few things that I love without salt — or any sort of seasoning.
Tomatoes. Avocado. Watermelon. Toast. Pasta.
Chocolate.
Salt enhances the basics. Like my friend Angela says, salt is the one thing that makes everything else taste more like itself.
In my earlier days as a semi-serious runner, I quickly discovered the consequences of electrolyte imbalances in your system. The three main ones you need are sodium, potassium, and magnesium. Deficiencies or imbalances between the three, combined with dehydration, caused excruciating side stitches for me — and my uncle taught me to keep bananas and magnesium supplements close by.
Sodium, well, we generally get a little too much of that in our diets as Americans.
Too much, yes, I guess there is such thing as too much sodium. But that doesn’t really stop me.
The combination of saltiness and sweetness when you salt chocolate is a flavor unlike any other I know — the chunks of salt accentuates the sugar in the chocolate. It’s crack-like. Not that I know what crack is like.
Knowing I am easily addicted to activities and substances, I should walk with caution. But for everyone else’s benefit, apply salt generously.
Salted Chocolate Chip Cookies, adapted from the New York Times recipe
Ingredients
2 cups minus 2 tablespoons cake flour
1 and 2/3 cups bread flour
1 and 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 and 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 and 1/2 teaspoon salt
2 and 1/2 sticks unsalted butter
1 and 1/4 cups granulated sugar
1 and 1/4 cups light brown sugar
2 large eggs
t teaspoons vanilla extract
1 and 1/4 pounds milk chocolate chunks or chips
1 cup coarsely chopped pecans
Coarse sea salt (pictured: Parisian gray salt) for garnish
Instructions
Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.
Using a stand mixer, cream the butter and sugars with the whipping attachment, until light and fluffy. Add each egg one by one, and then combine the vanilla extract.
In a separate mixing bowl, combine your dry ingredients: both flours, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Whisk until evenly mixed.
Add the dry ingredients slowly to the butter and sugar mixture — I broke the batch into thirds, making sure each third of the dry ingredients was fully incorporated before adding the next third.
With a wooden spoon or spatula, mix in the chocolate chunks and the pecans by hand.
Roll the dough into 1.5 inch pieces, and give a few inches between each piece on your baking sheet for spreading. Sprinkle a few chunks of your salt on each cookie. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until the edges are a golden brown.
I can’t lie to you guys. 2011 was quite the blogging fail, on my part.
For the past week or so, I’ve been walking around, lounging in my house, and chatting at bars about how I needed to write something for this post. (more…)
I could probably still drive the route from my parent’s home in Los Angeles to my Santa Barbara beach houses of choice with my eyes closed. No, I wasn’t allowed to have a car while I was in college in Santa Barbara – that was a strategic move on my parents’ part in bribing me to transfer to UCLA. So no, I didn’t make that journey very often when school was in session. But during those summers, I found myself clocking out of my waiting job only to hop into my car and blast the CD de jour (CDs — am I dating myself?) for all 75 minutes of the drive, zooming out of that good old parking lot in Calabasas.
I often made the trip late in the week, and extended it through the weekend when I could. An most of the time, I stopped by a fruit stand on the mountain side of the Pacific Coast Highway in a little community north of Ventura, just nine blocks wide – La Conchita. The first time I stopped there, it was because of a ginormous (sp?), hokey-pokey sign that read “10 avocados for $1.”
Sold.
I bought some strawberries and limes. I had never done brunch before then. You know, the real kind of brunch, where you sit in a California bungalow-type house just 400 yards from the Pacific Ocean. Even in October, we’d walk around in bikinis and dance around the house, or make soap bubbles that we could stand in. I was nineteen. That’s not to say I still don’t do that, because I definitely do – if anything, I spend more time dancing around my house in a bikini as a twenty-three year old than I did when I was in college. But everything was new back then – cooking, living on our own, and stopping at a road side fruit stand if you wanted to. Spending a dollar on avocados. Getting a few extra avocados for free, which would never have happened if my parents were there. We coined the giveaways as part of the “cute girl discount.”
Anyway, there’s a photo of me when I was nineteen – I’m cooking – at my friends’ college beachside house in Isla Vista. The caption is something about my cooking skills, which were unquestionably mediocre. I knew how to cook eggs, which was about it. I even failed a pancake contest once… so embarrassing. I don’t even like pancakes! There was so much to learn. And here I am, dining room-less dinner party queen of Dupont. I don’t think I could ever handle living in Isla Vista again. But damn, those days were fun.
Oh, and before I forget — Sweetsonian has found a beautiful new kitchen on Capitol Hill. I’m moving! And I’ll have more to write about later. In the meantime, here’s the cute-girl-discount that Rachel earned for turning twenty-four: a decadent, bittersweet chocolate tart.
Bittersweet Chocolate Tart For the crust, adapted from David Leibovitz — which, by the way, you should really read his entry on how he came across the recipe. It really is spectacular, and is generally how I bake.
6 Tablespoons butter
3 Tablespoons water
1 Tablespoon vegetable oil
1 – 2 cups flour (read David’s blog; you will understand)
For the filling: 1/2 cup finely chopped, high quality, bittersweet chocolate
1 and 1/4 cups heavy cream
1 Tablespoon butter
1 Tablespoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 eggs, plus 1 egg yolk
For the glaze:
2 Tablespoons heavy cream
1/3 cup finely chopped bittersweet chocolate
1 Tablespoon corn syrup
1 Tablespoon water
To make the crust, first combine the butter, oil, and water in an oven-proof dish. Heat the oven at 350 degrees, and bake the ingredients until they begin to boil. Then, add the salt and flour into your dish. I added the flour gradually, stirring with a fork, until I could delve my hands into the butter and form the dough myself. When you think there is enough flour to easily roll out a crust, don’t worry, you’re wrong — it will still stick to everything, even a French rolling pin coated in layers of flour that may or may not still be on my living room floor. Did I mention I’m moving? To a kitchen with real counter space?
Anyway, I rolled the dough between two sheets of parchment paper (even wax paper stuck to the dough). Transfer the crust to your tart pan, press in the sides, and fork holes in the base to prevent it from rising. Then, line your crust with foil, fill the foil with dry beans of some sort (I used, and wasted, rice). Bake for about 25 minutes, until the crust is brown.
For the ganache filling, heat the cream until it boils. Then, pour over the chopped chocolate in a separate bowl. Let it sit for a few minutes, and then whisk until even. While still hot, add the butter, and stir until integrated.
In another bowl, combine the eggs, salt, and vanilla. Temper the eggs by adding just a few spoonfuls of the hot cream mixture — adding too much will scramble your eggs, and result in an ultimate failure. Once the mixture is a medium chocolate color, you can pour the rest of the chocolate cream in. Then, fill your tart crust with the ganache. Place in a centered oven rack, and bake at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes. Remove from oven; the center will not be stiff yet, but as it cools, the filling will set. Let it cool for an hour or two.
For the smooth glaze that makes the tart pretty, heat two tablespoons of cream in a small saucepan. When it boils, add the remaining chocolate, and stir until dissolved. Then, combine the corn syrup and water. When even, pour the glaze over the filling, and feel free to lift and tilt the tart until the glaze covers the entire chocolate surface. Refrigerate for one hour, and serve with red wine and blackberries.
Anyway, there’s a photo of me when I was nineteen – I’m cooking – at my friends’ college beachside house in Isla Vista. The caption is something about my cooking skills, which were unquestionably mediocre. I knew how to cook eggs, which was about it. I even failed a pancake contest once… so embarrassing. I don’t even like pancakes! There was so much to learn. And here I am, dining room-less dinner party queen of Dupont. I don’t think I could ever handle living in Isla Vista again. But damn, those days were fun.
Oh, and before I forget — Sweetsonian has found a beautiful new kitchen on Capitol Hill. I’m moving! And I’ll have more to write about later. In the meantime, here’s the cute-girl-discount that Rachel earned for turning twenty-four: a decadent, bittersweet chocolate tart.
Bittersweet Chocolate Tart For the crust, adapted from David Leibovitz — which, by the way, you should really read his entry on how he came across the recipe. It really is spectacular, and is generally how I bake.
6 Tablespoons butter
3 Tablespoons water
1 Tablespoon vegetable oil
1 – 2 cups flour (read David’s blog; you will understand)
For the filling: 1/2 cup finely chopped, high quality, bittersweet chocolate
1 and 1/4 cups heavy cream
1 Tablespoon butter
1 Tablespoon vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 eggs, plus 1 egg yolk
For the glaze:
2 Tablespoons heavy cream
1/3 cup finely chopped bittersweet chocolate
1 Tablespoon corn syrup
1 Tablespoon water
To make the crust, first combine the butter, oil, and water in an oven-proof dish. Heat the oven at 350 degrees, and bake the ingredients until they begin to boil. Then, add the salt and flour into your dish. I added the flour gradually, stirring with a fork, until I could delve my hands into the butter and form the dough myself. When you think there is enough flour to easily roll out a crust, don’t worry, you’re wrong — it will still stick to everything, even a French rolling pin coated in layers of flour that may or may not still be on my living room floor. Did I mention I’m moving? To a kitchen with real counter space?
Anyway, I rolled the dough between two sheets of parchment paper (even wax paper stuck to the dough). Transfer the crust to your tart pan, press in the sides, and fork holes in the base to prevent it from rising. Then, line your crust with foil, fill the foil with dry beans of some sort (I used, and wasted, rice). Bake for about 25 minutes, until the crust is brown.
For the ganache filling, heat the cream until it boils. Then, pour over the chopped chocolate in a separate bowl. Let it sit for a few minutes, and then whisk until even. While still hot, add the butter, and stir until integrated.
In another bowl, combine the eggs, salt, and vanilla. Temper the eggs by adding just a few spoonfuls of the hot cream mixture — adding too much will scramble your eggs, and result in an ultimate failure. Once the mixture is a medium chocolate color, you can pour the rest of the chocolate cream in. Then, fill your tart crust with the ganache. Place in a centered oven rack, and bake at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes. Remove from oven; the center will not be stiff yet, but as it cools, the filling will set. Let it cool for an hour or two.
For the smooth glaze that makes the tart pretty, heat two tablespoons of cream in a small saucepan. When it boils, add the remaining chocolate, and stir until dissolved. Then, combine the corn syrup and water. When even, pour the glaze over the filling, and feel free to lift and tilt the tart until the glaze covers the entire chocolate surface. Refrigerate for one hour, and serve with red wine and blackberries.
Anyway, there’s a photo of me when I was nineteen – I’m cooking – at my friends’ college beachside house in Isla Vista. The caption is something about my cooking skills, which were unquestionably mediocre. I knew how to cook eggs, which was about it. I even failed a pancake contest once… so embarrassing. I don’t even like pancakes! There was so much to learn. And here I am, dining room-less dinner party queen of Dupont. I don’t think I could ever handle living in Isla Vista again. But damn, those days were fun.
