Oh yeah. Easter.

I totally forgot to post about the two Nigella recipes I made at Easter. Woops.

I was supremely excited at the idea of baking Hot Cross Buns this year. Growing up, we always had supermarket hot cross buns around Easter (not necessarily on Good Friday, per the tradition). I loved them. Not that they tasted so great, but I loved them anyway. In general, I figure that anything that's okay store-bought is usually phenomenal when it's home made. Live and learn.

The spice mixture in Nigella's recipe piqued my interest immediately. Cardamom pods, clove, orange zest, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ground ginger are a promising flavor base for just about anything. These are used to infuse melted butter. Sounds good. As I was cooking, I realized that the dough did not include sugar. At all. This alarmed me at the time, but I figured maybe the glaze would provide all necessary sweetness.

I was alarmed again when I saw that the dough is supposed to have a long, slow rise overnight in the fridge. I have never had luck with recipes that say the dough will rise cold. I've tried several, and they've never budged. However, calmed by Nigella's comment that you "need the patience to sit around while they rise and the faith to believe they will," I did not modify this as I've done my bagel recipe, by leaving the dough out for 2-3 hours, then putting it in the fridge overnight.

Suprise, surprise, the dough didn't move. Not one bit. The problem was not old yeast. I've baked bread with the same yeast since then, and it worked just fine.

I removed the bowl from the fridge in the morning and let it sit out all day, hoping it would spring into action once it warmed up. By 3 pm, it looked exactly the same as it did when I started.

Out of ideas, I proceeded with the recipe. I shouldn't have bothered.

I curse you, Buns.

These were hard, disgusting little hockey pucks. The dried fruit and bottoms of the buns burned when baked at the specified 425 degrees. Even if they'd risen perfectly and baked properly, the dough was nasty. It needed sugar. There was no spice flavor. Awful. Wrote "HORRID" with a big black X in my book. I tossed the entire batch in the trash.

After that disaster, I was nervous about bringing Easter Egg Nest Cake to my friend's house for Easter, as I'd never tested it. I'd already bought the ingredients, though, so decided to forge ahead. This cake is a flourless chocolate cake that is meant to crackle on the edges and sink in the middle. The sunken center is filled with chocolate whipped cream, then decorated with pastel candy eggs. SUPER CUTE.

Fortunately, this was delicious. Chocolate whipped cream might be my new favorite thing in the world. I could do without the candy eggs, but they do look cute. The cake vanished quickly. Charlie was angry that he didn't get a piece. (I offered. He didn't want any while it was available. As soon as we got home, he started asking for cake. GRRR.)

This one was a winner, and I'd definitely make it again.

Nigella's Pancake Redemption

I had a hankering for pancakes again this morning, so decided to give Nigella a second chance, regarding pancakes. This time, I made Feast's Banana Buttermilk Pancakes. To make things super-easy, Nigella has you toss all the ingredients (pretty standard--flour, sugar, baking soda, baking powder, buttermilk, a banana) in a blender and let her rip. Mix in a little melted butter before cooking.

Unlike her Cheesecakelets, these pancakes cooked beautifully. They might be the prettiest pancakes I've ever made. They tasted lightly banana-ey. Fruit is one thing I have no trouble getting Charlie to eat, but I imagine you could trick your kid into eating a banana with this recipe. Because the batter is blended, it's smooth and has no texture that might put a kid on guard.

Conclusion: Liked it. Nigella, you're forgiven for the Cheesecakelet debacle.

Bookending Bologna

On Friday, two hours before we were scheduled to leave for the train station to head up to Bologna for the weekend, Charlie requested pancakes. This kid asks for specific food so infrequently that I decided, sure, let's have pancakes for lunch.

I've had Nigella's Cheesecakelets (pg 191 of Feast) in my head for quite a while, ever since I first saw her whip them up on her tv show. Despite the name, these don't much resemble cheesecake. They have cottage cheese in them, and she says that they remind her of her grandmother's cheesecake. Who am I to argue with an individual's food associations?

There's not a ton of flour involved (only 1/3 cup), especially when taking into account that there are 3 eggs. The eggs are separated, the whites whipped, then folded into the batter.

I found these pancakes to be impossible to handle. They stuck to the griddle and were very slow to cook through, meaning that I kept flipping too-wet pancakes to try to keep the glued-on bottoms from burning. It was a hot mess. Maybe it was my fault. Maybe my pan was too hot. I didn't heat the pan any differently than I normally do for pancakes.

I managed to get one to stay intact for Charlie, and he ate it (including cottage cheese) without complaint. I wound up with the torn up messes, and didn't bother cooking the remainder of the batter. The flavor wasn't unique or interesting enough to make this recipe instead of a normal pancake recipe, especially when taking into account how difficult they were to actually cook.

Conclusion: Dislike. Pain in the ass. I may try and slip some cottage cheese into our normal pancake recipe in the future though, for extra protein, since it didn't seem to bother Charlie that it was in there.

I made sure I had all the ingredients on hand to make Penne alla Vodka (pg 133 of Feast), because it seemed like it would be easy enough to throw together on Monday, after a day of travel. It was. This was very delicious, and it tasted like home. Not my actual home, because vodka sauce was not something my mother ever made, but my neighbors did, and I used to like ordering it in restaurants. Kids need vodka too. What? haha.

One thing I found odd, and that I'm not sure I would do again, is that, instead of adding the vodka to the sauce, which is the only way I've ever seen this made, Nigella has you mix butter and the vodka in with the drained pasta, prior to adding it to the sauce. This made it much more obvious that vodka was involved, which may be why she prefers it. I don't know. I think it tastes smoother and less jarring when mixed with the sauce. Also, on Monday night, I'd pulled out Charlie's pasta prior to adding the vodka, and he inhaled his entire plate of pasta and sauce. Last night, I tried to give him the leftovers (which included the boozified pasta), and we fought about it for two hours. In retrospect, I'm wondering if he could taste the difference. It's equally likely that he was just being a pain. The majority of our meals turn into fights, so who knows.

Conclusion: Loved it.

We adults ate Dominican Chimichurri Burgers (pg 152 of The Epicurious Cookbook) last night. The intro describes this as a "messy masterpiece." Messy, yes. Masterpiece? Let's not go crazy.

The basis of this burger--ground beef mixed with diced onion and red pepper, garlic, cilantro, oregano, soy sauce, and Worcestershire, topped with a mixture of mayo, ketchup, and mustard--was very good. I know, because I had the leftover patty for lunch today, minus all the extra unnecessary hooplah. The hooplah in question is sliced cabbage and shredded carrots cooked for two minutes until wilted (huh? Why? It was still crunchy. Not sure what the point of this step was.), grilled tomatoes, and grilled onions. I don't like all that messy crap on top of my burger. The whole thing fell apart while I was eating it. It's just a peeve of mine. The cabbage and carrot was especially unnecessary. Out with it!

Conclusion: Liked it, minus the toppings.

Another Round-up

I really need to start posting about these recipes closer to the time I've prepared them. Some are a little fuzzy in my memory. Maybe that should tell me something.

Peruvian Grilled Chicken (pg 143 of The Epicurious Cookbook) doesn't resemble any Peruvian chicken I've ever had. Once in a blue moon, for a treat, my dad's best friend would stop at a Peruvian chicken place and bring a few birds to my house, where we all descended upon them like a pack of rabid zombies. They were salty and juicy and delicious. Same goes for the ones we used to get when we lived in Norfolk. This version was tasty enough, when looked at objectively, but did not come anywhere close to being delicious enough to be called Peruvian chicken. It was, however, easy. Just marinate chicken parts overnight, then roast them in the oven for a half an hour at really high heat. It was good, but not great. It will not satisfy a Peruvian chicken craving.

Conclusion: Just okay. If it were called Soy Sauce Chicken, I might score it higher, but this is no substitute for the real thing.

Southwestern Lime Chicken (pg 145) is another marinate, then grill recipe. There are other spices in the mix, but the only two flavors that stand out are lime juice and soy sauce. If limey and salty, with a finishing touch of melted Monterey Jack, is your thing, then this is a recipe for you. I liked it. My chicken took a lot longer to cook through than the designated ten minutes. Another easy recipe that I'm glad to have in my pocket.

Sorry, I cut them all to make sure they were done, so it looks a bit dismembered.

Conclusion: Liked it. Can anyone tell me how to use a cast-iron grill pan without smoking out my house?

Thai Fried Eggplant with Basil (pg 273) is technically supposed to be a side dish. I probably should have paid attention to that fact prior to preparing it. This was mighty tasty (especially to my deprived-of-Asian-food tastebuds), and healthily veggie-laden (4 WW points, without counting the rice), but Matt and I were both starving by bedtime. Stomach-growling hunger. No good. However, the protein of your choice could easily be tossed into the wok and stir fried with the rest, so I'll know better next time.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Last night, as a side to a rotisserie chicken, I made Wild Rice with Pecans, Raisins, and Orange Essence (pg 354). Despite the fact that I cut a tablespoon of olive oil, and halved the pecan and the raisins, in order to bring the points value into a more reasonable range (7 pts), this was still very good. There's lots of good flavor here, with the zest and juice of one large orange (or 2 tangerines, in this case), balsamic vinegar, mint leaves, nuts, raisins, and green onions. It's meant to sit for an hour or two, then be served room temp, so it's another easy do-ahead recipe.

Conclusion: Loved it. This tastes extremely orangey, which I like. The whole "essence" business made me expect less flavor.

Lastly, as part of Charlie's Curious George themed birthday party, I made monkey and banana shaped cut-out cookies, using Nigella's recipe in Feast. I can't say I was very impressed. Matt and Charlie had a stomach virus earlier in the week, and I came down with it the night before his original party date, and was congested before that, so it's possible my tastebuds were off, but these cookies didn't have much flavor. They cut well and were fairly sturdy, but if they don't taste delicious, I don't need them in my life. Unfortunately, I wound up having to toss them out because we were all too sick to be interested in eating them before they went bad, and I didn't get a chance to make new ones for his belated party, this past saturday. If I had made new cookies, I would have used a different recipe.

My icing skills need some work.

Conclusion: Disliked. Don't care if they look cute. I want my cookies to taste good.

Fingers Crossed

Charlie was sick to his stomach all night. Around 5:30 this morning, Matt got sick, too. I figure it's only a matter of time before I'm taken down, so while I'm exposing myself to contagion, snuggling with wee man on the couch, I might as well catch up on a few recipes that I've neglected to post about. If I'm lucky, it'll distract me from the annoying voice of Annie on Little Einsteins. In general, I really like this show (and am always surprised and delighted when I'm listening to Ben Folds and Charlie announces, "That piano sounds happy"), but seriously. Annie has to be a producer's daughter or something. Her voice is nails on the chalkboard of my brain.

Last week, I made Roasted Lamb Chops with Charmoula (pg 62 of The Epicurious Cookbook). This was easy (score: 1). Blitz cumin seeds, parsley, mint (which I couldn't get my hands on), cilantro, garlic, paprika, salt, cayenne, and lemon juice in a food processor. Still running the machine, add olive oil. You're supposed to marinate the lamb in this mixture for 4-24 hours. I only marinated mine for the time it took me to prepare the rest of the meal. Still good. The recipe instructs you to place a rack on a baking sheet and roast the chops in the oven. My cooling racks are coated with something, so I wasn't about to put them in the oven. I grilled the chops on the stove instead. This seems faster and more straightforward to me, anyway.

Conclusion: I seem to love every lamb recipe I come across, and this one is no exception. Delish! 

I made Creamed Spinach from Nigella's Feast (pg 207) to accompany the lamb. Holy moly. I could have eaten the entire pot myself. With a stick of butter and a cup of heavy cream, this is way too caloric to be anything but a special occasion vegetable, but it is so, so good. It makes me laugh that Nigella says to "heat the butter -- using less if this amount frightens you." It did frighten me, Nigella. I used half a stick of butter, and didn't miss the other four tablespoons.

I've only had creamed spinach out of a can, and never liked it. This homemade version is rich and nutmeggy and cozy. I added a can of while beans to it, just for kicks, and Matt said he loved it with the beans, and didn't think he'd like it as much without the beans, for textural reasons. I could eat it either way.

Conclusion: Loved it. Dangerously delicious.

Back to Epicurious, I made Black Bean Soup with Cumin and Jalapeno (pg 220). In hopes that Charlie would taste some, I toned down the heat. Instead of using an entire hot pepper, seeds and all, I only used the flesh. I don't think including the seeds would have changed my opinion of this all that much, though. It was kind of bland. I might feel more favorably toward it if I wasn't already in love with Nigella's black bean soup from How to Eat. Nigella's is more time-consuming (though not that much more actual work), but it's also a lot more flavor.

Conclusion: Just okay.

Last night, I made Salmon Cakes (pg 25 of TEC). A few things concerned me during the process, but it all turned out ok. The salmon in my freezer had skin on it. I worried that it would be hard to cut the skin off, but it really wasn't. Then, after I was midway through cutting my second fillet into bits, I felt bones. Nooooooo! the fillets were supposed to be boneless. I felt around, picked a few out, and hoped for the best. Fortunately, I didn't find any while I was eating them.

The raw salmon is mixed with torn up bits of pita bread, mayo, an egg, coriander, cayenne, and lemon zest (though I used tangerine zest, b/c that's what I had). There's also supposed to be chives in there, but I didn't have any. Then you just make patties and cook them in a little oil for a few minutes. I worried that they'd fall apart. I worried that they wouldn't cook through. Everything worked perfectly.

Conclusion: Loved them. Crispy on the outside, soft, yet solid on the inside. Chives would make them even better. I might try them with only one pita bread instead of two. I think I'd prefer a different bread to fish ratio, assuming that messing with it doesn't impact how it sticks together. Really good, just as it is, though. It's supposed to be served with a lemon yogurt sauce, but I omitted that part b/c I'm doing WeightWatchers again. In case you care about point values of things, best I can tell, each patty is 7 points. I served it with a delicious 3 pt serving of Warm French Lentils from Barefoot Contessa's How Easy Is That? Yummy meal.

Chilis

I'd made Epicurious' Chicken Chili (pg 251 of The Epicurious Cookbook) when my in-laws were here. At the time, I remember a) being able to blitz the soup base in my food processor without any overflow, b) being surprised at how thick the chili was, and c) loving it. It reminded me of the inside of an enchilada at Don Pablo's.

I decided to make it again, in what I thought was exactly the same way, apart from the fact that this time I used pinto beans instead of white beans. The recipe actually calls for "pink beans," but I don't even know what that means. The cannellini worked better than pinto, flavor-wise. Both times, I used canned chiles in adobo sauce instead of "dried New Mexican or guajillo chiles."

I don't know what happened, but this time, when I whirred the broth, chiles, canned tomatoes, onion, garlic, cilantro, peanuts (!!), cumin, cilantro, and salt, it was too much fluid for my food processor and it leaked out all over my counter. The finished product was much soupier than it was last time.

Did I forget to add the broth the first time I made this?

I have no idea. I think I must have. I really need to try it again and figure out what the difference was, because I preferred it before.

Another problem this time was that, because my food processor was leaking, I didn't blitz the base well enough. Instead of turning into a nice, thick puree (I must have forgotten the broth before), the peanuts were too chunky. Last time, they helped thicken the soup. This time, they were annoying to chew.

Conclusion: liked it, but loved it the first time. I must determine what I did "wrong" on the first go.

Several weeks ago, I made Nigella's Cornbread-Topped Chilli Con Carne (pg 399 of Feast). I'd totally forgotten about it until I flipped by it in the book, so that should tell you something. The chili itself was okay. Not disgusting, but not good. Unmemorable. I baked the cornbread separately, in a pan, rather than dolloping it on top of the chilli and baking the whole in the oven. This recipe serves 20. I was serving 2. I had a hunch that cornbread was going to turn into a soggy, vile mess upon sitting in the fridge and reheating. Anyway, the cornbread itself was disgusting. Totally flavorless. It would have been gross whether I followed her instructions to bake it on top of the chili or not.

Conclusion: Disliked.

Oy

My in-laws have come to visit, and are staying for a month, so I doubt I'll be updating the blog much while they're here. They're off on a tour of the National Archaeological Museum here in Naples right now, so I'm stealing five minutes to knock out a quick post.

I made (Bowties) al Ragu (pg 113 of Rome), because Charlie's revived his food-related stubbornness, and I thought surely he'd eat it, as he asks for "red spaghetti" all the time. I was wrong. Wouldn't taste it. This sauce took two hours to cook, and came out tasting exactly like my Grandma's. That's not a good thing. Grandma is German. Her red sauce comes out of a can. It's fine, but hers takes a whopping three minutes to make/heat up.

Conclusion: Just okay. Absolutely not worth the time, effort, or 1/4 cup of wine that could be put to better use in my glass.

The following night, I made Spaghetti alla Carbonara (pg 98), because it's one of Charlie's go-to restaurant orders, and I wanted to try it at home before my in-laws arrived. They both have assorted fat and carb-related dietary restrictions, so I didn't want to serve it to them. Not the greatest carbonara I've ever eaten, but very good, and Charlie INHALED it, exclaiming all the while, "This spaghetti is AMAZING." This has never happened before, for anything I've cooked. I wish more food made him happy. Despite the caloric consequences, carbonara may need to show up at my table a little more often.

Conclusion: Liked it, calories be damned.

My mother in law is a fan of biscotti, so I made Tozzetti (pg 173). I'm rarely totally happy with how my biscotti turns out. Either it's the wrong texture, falls apart when I'm slicing it, the chocolate melts all over the place, etc etc. This hazelnut biscotti recipe was a pain in the ass in dough form. It was super sticky and wet, and the directions ("using a spatula, transfer the rectangles to the prepared baking sheet") indicate that it was not supposed to be. There was no transference via spatula. I basically had to glop it over with my hands and form it into a mostly-oblong shape. However, once baked the first time, they sliced perfectly, and turned out exactly the way I expect a store-bought biscotti to be.

Conclusion: Loved them.

A few from Feast: 

Know how I'm always disappointed by "fast" Indian recipes by non-Indian people? Nigella's Keema (pg 234) is a wonderful, quick version of the minced meat and peas that I like to make when I have two hours. It's not as flavorful as Jaffrey's version, but it's got lots of spice and lots of flavor, and takes a third of the time. I can now eat Indian on a weeknight. Thank you, Nigella.

Conclusion: Loved it.

The Quadruple Chocolate Loaf Cake (pg 272) is moist and rich and delicious. This is one of my favorite things I've baked in a long time. My one complaint is that the recipe says to line the loaf pan with plastic wrap. Nigella puts your worries to rest, saying, "Don't panic, it won't melt." Lies, I tell you! Lies! It DID melt. It disappeared into my cake, so I cut thickly around the sides and bottom of the cake. According to the FAQ on her website, she has changed this instruction to line with buttered foil. Didn't help me last time, but it will help me next time.

I had to serve this to company. Good thing it tasted good.

Conclusion: Loved it.

Slime Soup (pg 350) is a nice, easy, more-filling (it's blitzed with mozzarella) pea soup made from frozen peas. It's from the Halloween section, thus the title. I served this to my in-laws, without sharing the name with them, and they liked it.

Conclusion: liked it.

Clearing the Slate

I've accrued a backlog of recipes from Rome that I've cooked, but haven't posted about. None were exceptional, so I'm just going to blast 'em out.

Conchiglie alla Caprese (pg 105) takes all the delicious elements of a caprese salad, adds capers, olives, and anchovies, then dilutes the whole thing with pasta. The best part of a caprese salad is the flavor union of mozzarella, basil, and tomato. It may not be impossible to get all three of those things in one forkful once pasta is thrown into the mix, but it doesn't happen organically.

Conclusion: Just okay. Bland. I bought the cute little trulli house-shaped pasta during my Columbus Day trip to Alberobello, which you can read about here.

Insalata Rossa (pg 151): snoozefest. Tomatoes, carrots, green onions, basil, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil do not come together as more than its individual pieces.

Conclusion: Just okay.

Pollo alla Romana con i Peperoni (pg 144), or Chicken with Tomatoes and Sweet Peppers, is the standout. The drumsticks didn't take on much flavor, so they were just normal drumsticks, but the sauce and the peppers were out of this world. I could have eaten a giant bowl of rice drowned in sauce (crisped prosciutto, a glug of white wine, tomatoes, oregano, with the soft peppers added in at the end), and been perfectly happy. No chicken necessary

Conclusion: Really liked the sauce and peppers.

I saw some parsnips (a rarity) at the Commissary last week, so I snagged them, without a plan. Feast has a recipe for Maple-Roast Parsnips (pg 25). Holy mother of God. These things are candy. Nigella says in her intro that she used to use honey and has changed it to maple syrup because it's "sweetness (is) less cloying." I can't even imagine how sweet the honey ones must have been, because I could barely make myself eat these. I am sure Charlie would have liked them, but he refused to put one in his mouth. I gave up after an hour and a half. He informed me he wanted to go to bed hungry, and so that is what he did. Grrrr.

Conclusion: Disliked. If Charlie had eaten them, I'd make them again in the future, but since he didn't, I won't. Too sweet.

Worth Shredding a Cabbage For

My brain works pretty slowly sometimes. Feast includes a bunch of recipes for ways to use up leftover turkey. I always hover over these recipes, and then move on, as leftover turkey is not something I generally have around the house (and frankly, I can't get enough stuffing-turkey-cranberry sauce-sweet potato sandwiches, so it's unlikely I'd ever need to turn to this section for its intended purpose.)

The last time I flipped through the book, the thought finally came to me that, oh yeah, I could just use a rotisserie chicken.

Took me long enough to figure that one out.

Because it would use up the head of red cabbage I had in my fridge, as well as some old (and mostly gone-bad) radishes, and the last of my Tropean red onions, I immediately settled upon Red Seasonal Salad (pg 59).

Shredding cabbage is the hardest part of this recipe. It's one of the tasks that I hate most in this world. I threw many a teenaged hissy fit when my mom would tell me to shred a cabbage for cole slaw. I hate cole slaw. It felt like punishment to stand over a bowl with a vegetable peeler, paring that big honkin' cabbage down. That said, if one must eat shredded cabbage, I agree with my mother that it should be shredded with a vegetable peeler. No one wants to chew on thick shreds of cabbage. The only way to get them to a nice, graceful thickness is to do it by hand.

Perhaps it's because I'm totally deprived of Asian food, but I loved this recipe. Red onion, red chilis, and garlic take a bath in rice vinegar, fish sauce, lime juice, oil, and sugar for a bit. Add shredded chicken, let it sit some more. Add the cabbage, then radishes and cilantro. Boom.

Because I didn't think my bedroom would be stinky enough after this meal, I also added a can of white beans.

Perfection.

For the record, Matt wasn't nearly as impressed by this as I was, so it could well be that my addiction to crunchy things, and the fact that I haven't eaten fish sauce in a long time prompted my undying love for this dish.

Conclusion: Loved it.

Also, several weeks ago, I made Ritzy Chicken Nuggets (pg 238), from the "Kiddie Feast" section. It's chicken breadcrumbed with crushed Ritz crackers. It's exactly what you would expect: aka, pretty tasty. My one complaint is that the instructions say to take the chicken from a buttermilk bath, shake off the excess, and put them in the Ritz crackers. They didn't stick to the chicken well, once in the pan. I much prefer my standard flour-->egg-->bread crumb method. The buttermilk DID make the chicken nice and juicy, though.

Charlie loves breadcrumbed chicken. It's the only way I can get him to eat chicken. He ate this, too, but didn't seem any more enthusiastic than normal, so I think I'll stick with my usual recipe, because I prefer it.

Conclusion: Liked it.

Salt Can Be Good or Bad

I was so intrigued by the weirdness of Vodka-Marinated Steak (pg 212 of Feast), that I had to make it. The fact that it's a simple recipe didn't hurt. I used a london broil, which cooked nicely in the timeline Nigella specifies. The steak is supposed to marinate for a few days in vodka, salt, peppercorns, parsley, thyme, garlic, and oil. I only did it for a few hours. Sear both sides, then cook on low heat, covered, for 3 minutes per side. Let it sit in foil for 15 minutes. My 15 minutes turned into 45, because I was waiting for Matt to get home from work, so it was on the cool side by the time we ate it. Still good. While the steak rests, use the marinade and some beef stock to deglaze the pan. Add steak drippings that have collected, whisk in some butter, and serve.

The steak turned out to be nicely salted. There wasn't a lot of other flavor, but that's  not really a complaint. It was the exact right amount of saltiness to make the beef delicious. It was tender and pinker than I expected it to be after such a long sit.

Conclusion: Liked it. Easiest cooking, for the biggest reward, that I've done in a while. I'd like to allow this to marinate for the recommended three days and see what impact that has, because Nigella says it "makes a really big difference."

I think my breadcrumb to tomato ratio is off.

I realized, pretty late in the game yesterday, that I had no vegetable planned for dinner, and no vegetables in the house, apart from our last crop of tomatoes of the season. I flipped to Meatless' index, and landed on Tomatoes Provencal (pg 328), because it was easy, with basic ingredients. All you do is slice tomatoes, overlap them in a baking vessel, then sprinkle a breadcrumb/parmigiano reggiano/thyme/salt/oil mixture on top, then bake.

This smelled unbelievable while it was in the oven. It tasted good, but I'd added too much salt. I hate when recipes don't specify an amount of salt. I always add more than I should.

Conclusion: Liked it. It's a good "ack! I forgot a veggie!" dish to keep in mind. If you have tomatoes, you probably have everything else you need, too.

Feast: Cranberry and White Chocolate Cookies

One very important lesson I've learned by traveling Europe with my three year old is that it is always a good idea to bake something easily transportable and fairly substantial for the road. Hungry, and there's nowhere to stop the car? Have an oatmeal cookie (perennial favorite). It's 8 pm, and you just got off a plane and checked into your apartment rental? I just happen to have a loaf of banana bread handy. Eat it and go to bed, child. Toddler needs breakfast before you're showered and ready? Refer back to the banana bread.

We drove to the Italian beach town of Tropea for Labor Day. (You can read about the trip here). Even though I don't think you can do better than the Vanishing Oatmeal Cookies recipe off of the Quaker Oats box, I baked Cranberry and White Chocolate Cookies (pg 82 of Feast) instead. I expected them to taste like cinnamon, with an oatey texture, because that's what I'm used to with oatmeal cookies. Then I noticed that cinnamon wasn't an ingredient. I did not anticipate that swapping craisins for raisins, and adding white chocolate chips and pecans would totally change this cookie.

The oat ratio must be different from the Quaker Oats recipe, because I probably would not have guessed they were in there. They didn't attract attention, but did make the cookies filling and satisfying.

I'm guessing the white chocolate is to thank for this, but the bottoms of the cookies almost seem caramelized.

Another unexpected difference is that, no matter how lightly I baked them, they crisped up as they cooled. In a good way. Yum.

Conclusion: Loved them. I love every cookie, so that's not too remarkable, but I will, without a doubt, make these again. We planned to share with our friends, who were staying at the same place as us, but we kind of ate them all ourselves. They were gone before I ever thought to take a pic. Woops.

Because I Feel Like It

September is right around the corner, bringing with it the promise of Fall and cool temps and exhausting holiday fun. I'll likely moan about cooking/baking overload by mid-December (though I won't be done until after my son's birthday party in January), but for the moment, I'm excited about the whole season. Charlie is almost 4 (!!!), and I think this will be the year he'll finally be involved in Halloween and Santa and helping me bake cookies, etc. Yeee!

Anyway. I've made no secret that I love Nigella. I'm adding a long-term project to my roster. Feast: Food to Celebrate Life provides recipes for official and unofficial holidays throughout the year, and for that reason, lends itself as a project for a longer period of time.

She makes me grin.

Nigella, I can't stay away.

I am SO making hot cross buns this Easter.