Kitchen Travels

Chewy Granola Bars

If you've been following along for a while, you may have noticed a slight shift in my recipes over the last year. For example, I strive to use organic ingredients as much as possible. I have also made the switch to natural, plant-based food coloring, choosing to avoid artificial food coloring ever since an unsettling blue frosting incident (you don't want to know). Because one of my kids seems to have a strong sensitivity to granulated sugar, I've been experimenting with alternative sweeteners such as honey, brown rice syrup, and maple sugar. 

There are many upsides to adopting a more natural diet. But, as you can imagine, organic foods can sometimes be more expensive than their non-organic counterparts. In my experience, this is especially true when it comes to kid-friendly items like crackers and snacks.

Easy, Homemade, Beautiful Burger Buns (with love)

It's Valentine's Day, and most food bloggers have been posting all kinds of sweet and beautiful treats on their blogs for the last few weeks. I know lots of people make a big deal of this "holiday" every year, and for many, expectations are high. There will be chocolate, heart-shaped confections, expensive dinners, champagne... or at least the hope for these things.

Not for me. Valentine's Day doesn't hold any particular magic or allure for me. Don't get me wrong -- I am not one of those people who hates Valentine's Day. It's nice, and the sentiment behind it -- a day dedicated to love -- is, well, lovely.But my husband and I have never been the type of couple who get starry-eyed simply because the calendar says February 14. Maybe it's because he worked in the bar and restaurant industry for so many years. Kind of hard to plan a special date on one of the busiest nights on the year.

Sparkling Sugared Cranberries - Happy New Year!

This is the first in a series of "catch up" posts. xo

Hey there, world. Did everyone have a nice holiday season? Having a happy new year so far? Ready for some new posts? I hope so, because we've got a lot of catching up to do. (Well, I guess in this blogger/reader relationship, I'm really the only one who needs to catch up. But I would love for you all to come along for the ride.)

You see, I've got a lot of photos and recipes stacking up in my computer that I've never posted here. I've  wanted to, I really have! But I have been pretty distracted the last couple months, and something had to give. I almost let all those would-be posts slide, seeing as how some of them aren't exactly timely any more. Hello... cranberries? In January? 

Mango Gelee and Honey Vanilla Yogurt Verrines

"Life is short."

It's a cliche, I know. A phrase we've all heard, and probably uttered ourselves, countless times. We know that life is finite, and that in the grand scheme of things, our time on this earth is fleeting. But I imagine most of us don't really think about it much. Until a few months ago, that was true for me. I had built a life - a pretty good one, by all accounts - and every day, I was busy living it. Wake up, shower, get the kids ready, get myself ready. Go to school, go to work, go to little league, go to the park, go swimming, go camping, go to dinner, go to bed...

Go.     Go.     Go.

I didn't really give much thought to the fact that this life of mine was barrelling through time at a rather alarming rate. I mean, I noticed it. But I didn't really pay attention. Then something happened. Life smacked me across the face and for a while, I was left reeling. Oh man, then I started to pay attention. It's amazing - and frankly, a bit unnerving - what you can see when you start to pay attention.

Frozen Peanut Butter Pie (dairy free) - for Mikey

It was another ordinary, summer day. The kids were tired from an afternoon of swimming, and they lounged on the couch, watching a movie. I took the rare quiet moment to check email and Twitter. As I began to browse the latter, I noticed a recurring theme: dozens of tweets expressing sorrow and sending virtual hugs to Jennifer Perillo - a wife, mother and professional recipe developer from Brooklyn, and author of the food blog "In Jennie's Kitchen." Jennie's husband Mikey had died - suddenly, unexpectedly - leaving Jennie and two young daughters behind.

 

I didn't know Mikey, and I only knew of Jennie through Twitter and her blog. But I was touched by Jennie's story, and struck by the outpouring of emotion and real sense of community as the news rippled across the internet. Concerned friends asked Jennie how they could help. She responded in a touching post, asking that people celebrate Mikey's life by making his favorite pie and sharing it with loved ones.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people in the food blogging community and beyond did just that on Friday, gathering with family and friends, celebrating life, and eating peanut butter pie in memory of a young husband and father gone too soon.

I did the same. Our family had been invited to dinner at the home of some dear friends, and I had offered to bring dessert. So, although I'd never made one before, a peanut butter pie seemed only fitting. I adapted Jennie's recipe and divided it into several mini-tarts and a small pie. Unfortunately, my pie did not have sufficient time to set up, so the end result was more soup than super. But you know what? It didn't matter. We enjoyed a great dinner with our friends. I held their new baby boy for the first time, as we watched the rest of our kids play together. And when it came time for dessert, we all dipped in with our fingers and laughed, savoring the salty-sweetness of the moment... and the half-frozen peanut butter pie.

The old me would have come home from dinner and stayed up late to finish this post on Friday, the same day as most of the other bloggers. Instead, I uploaded the photos and turned off the computer. I said a prayer for Mikey, Jennie, and their children. I tucked my own children into bed and kissed them goodnight. I took a long walk under the cool moonlight with our new dog. I made love to my husband and fell asleep in his arms. The post could wait a day or two, but life wasn't going to wait. "Today is the only guarantee we can count on."

Frozen Peanut Butter Pie (dairy free)
Adapted from In Jennie's Kitchen

We finished the leftover pie the next evening, after freezing it overnight. This dessert is very dense and rich. Serve small slices to people you love, with hot coffee and big hugs.

Use organic whenever possible.

For sweetened condensed coconut milk:

2 – 14 ounce cans Thai-style, unsweetened coconut milk
1/2 cup granulated sugar

For crust:
4 ounces Oreo-style chocolate sandwich cookies (5 - 6 cookies; I like Newman's Own Organics)
4 ounces graham crackers (4 - 5 large crackers)
4 tablespoons non-dairy margarine, melted
4 ounces finely chopped chocolate or semi-sweet chocolate chips (~scant 1 cup)
1/4 cup chopped, salted peanuts

For pie filling:
14 ounces sweetened condensed milk (~2 cups)

1 cup non-dairy whipped topping
8 ounces Tofutti cream cheese
1 cup creamy-style peanut butter
3/4 cup confectioner's sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon juice

For topping (optional):
4 ounces finely chopped chocolate or semi-sweet chocolate chips (~scant 1 cup)

1/2 teaspoon extra-virgin coconut oil
1 handful salted peanuts

Make the sweetened condensed coconut milk: Pour the coconut milk into a heavy, medium saucepan and place over medium-high heat. Stir in the sugar. Bring to a boil, stirring occasionally and watching closely to avoid boiling over. Reduce heat to medium and keep mixture at a gentle boil until slightly thickened and reduced by half, stirring often. This will take 60-90 minutes. Pour into a bowl over an ice bath, and cool completely, stirring occasionally. The mixture will continue to thicken as it cools.

Make the crust: Pulse the cookies and graham crackers together in a food processor until they are fine crumbs. Combine melted margarine and cookie crumbs in a small bowl; mix well. Press mixture into the base of twelve, 2-inch tartelette pans with removable bottoms, using a tablespoon of the mixture for each. Press the remaining crust mixture into the bottom of a 6-inch springform pan.*

Melt the chocolate in a double boiler or in the microwave.  Add a small dollop of melted chocolate on top of the crust of each of the tartelettes, and pour the remaining chocolate over the bottom of the crust in the springform pan. Spread to the edges using a spoon or an off-set spatula. Sprinkle chopped peanuts over the melted chocolate, and place pans in the refrigerator while you finish the filling.

Make the filling: beat the cream cheese and peanut butter together in the bowl of a stand mixer until light and fluffy, using the paddle attachment on medium speed. Reduce speed to low; gradually beat in the confectioner's sugar. Add the sweetened condensed coconut milk, vanilla extract and lemon juice. Increase speed to medium and beat until all the ingredients are combined and mixture is smooth. Add the whipped topping and mix just until incorporated.

Pour the filling into the prepared pan(s).

Optional: Make topping. Melt the chocolate in a double boiler or in the microwave. Stir in the coconut oil. Pour melted chocolate onto a silicone mat or small cookie sheet covered in wax or parchment paper. Using an offset spatula, spread the melted chocolate to about 1/4 inch thick. Sprinkle with the salted peanuts. Cool in the fridge or freezer until firm. Cut the bark into pieces and place randomly atop the pie.

Place pie and/or tartelettes in freezer for at least 8 hours or overnight, until frozen. Remove from freezer and allow to stand at room temperature for 10 minutes or so before cutting and serving.

Makes one 6-inch pie plus twelve 2-inch tartelettes, OR one 9-inch pie.

Serves 12-14.

* Alternatively, for a single pie, press the mixture into the bottom of one 9-inch springform pan.

You might also like:

Eatocracy - a Peanut Butter Pie in Memory of Mikey
Food in Jars - Peanut Butter Pie for Mikey (and Jennie too)
White on Rice Couple - Video for Jennifer Perillo: Peanut Butter Pie for Mikey

FN Dish - ChocolateCovered Peanut Butter Pie (and a comprehensive list of peanut butter pies around the web)

Search the Twitter hashtag #APieForMikey

Sugar Cookies

My childhood memories are, for the most part, happy ones. Skating on a freezing cold pond in Minnesota, then warming up with hot chocolate from a Thermos. Dancing with my mom and siblings around our living room, while The Beatles and Three Dog Night records played on our Hi-Fi and we laughed and laughed. I remember camping in the Arizona mountains, where my dad taught me how to shoot tin cans with a rifle, and where - after ditching our family tent in favor of sleeping on a boulder under the stars - I once awoke at dawn to find a squirrel sitting on my chest, eating a pine cone.

Of course, I have a couple of not-so-happy memories, too. One in particular stuck with me over the years. I was about 6 or 7 years old, I think, and my parents had taken us out to Baskin Robbins for ice cream. It was busy. As we waited for our turn, I remember trying to get a peek through the crowd at the big tubs of ice cream, then feeling a little overwhelmed by the grownups blocking my view. Without looking, I instinctively leaned against my dad, hooking my arm around his leg. A voice said, "Oh, hi there," and I looked up to find that I was hugging not my dad, but a strange man, who was smiling kindly down at me. I backed away, panicking for a second, then heard my dad laugh as he realized my mistake and gently pulled me close to him. Dad held my hand, and a few minutes later I was happily eating my single scoop on a sugar cone. Thinking back, it wasn't really anything so terrible. It was just a mix up, a fleeting moment. I was never in any danger. But in that exact moment, I learned what it was to feel fear.

Potato Bacon Quiche Tart

A couple months ago, I wrote a post about Berry Cobbler. We were on the cusp of summer, school was out, and our garden was just beginning to blossom. Then I turned around and the next thing I knew, it was September. September? It's practically fall, the kids are back in school, and our garden is putting out the last of its late-season tomatoes. And - as those of you following along may have noticed - I have posted not a single recipe. Not. Even. One. How did this happen?

I'm still cooking and baking. Still taking (a few) pictures. As the summer slipped away, I mentally composed dozens of posts, even started and stopped a handful, but I just could not seem to follow through. It's a long story, one that involves jobs lost and found, kids troubled and recovered, relationships torn and... well, if not yet made whole, let's say on the mend. Those last two have been the toughest. On an intellectual plane, I rationalized that things weren't that bad. I mean, comparatively, things could have been a lot worse. We were surviving. But all that rationalizing wasn't making me feel any better. Because I didn't want to just survive. I wanted to thrive.

Sounds pretty easy, right? Maybe it should be. But lately, I've been so busy surviving all the little and big challenges of life, I've sort of lost sight of the simple joys of life. Most people probably haven't noticed a difference in me, but I've noticed. When the hell did I become so serious? Honestly, I just don't know.

Berry Cobbler

This post is dedicated to my mom, and to the memory of my maternal grandmother, "Mama" Prella.

My mom has been out visiting us for the last two weeks. The bad news is that - bless her heart - my mom's visit could not have come at a more stressful time in our lives. We could not have know when we planned her trip a month or so ago that both my husband and I would be going through a time of professional turmoil at our respective jobs, just as my mom was to arrive. To add to the stress, our twins just started the summer program at the school where they will attend kindergarten in the fall, and the transition from preschool has been more difficult for them than we anticipated. My poor little girls have been experiencing almost daily meltdowns, not sleeping through the night, crying at the drop of a hat... It's been a tough couple weeks for all of us.

The good news is that this is the longest visit my mom has been able to have with us in quite some time. And my kids have been loving it.

Fried Smelt

There are many things to love about living in California: the great weather, the diversity of people, the beautiful scenery... and for those of us who like to cook, the abundance of local, fresh food, and the relatively easy access to the people who produce it. Where I live, here in the northern part of the state, that's especially true. A quick thirty minute drive, and you're standing in the middle of a lovely family vineyard. Just a bit farther west are two of the country's premier wine-growing regions. Keep driving, and before you know it, you'll find yourself in one of my favorite "food" cities, which is rumored to have more restaurants per capita than any other city in the United States.

And farmers' markets? Forget about it. There are at least five within a 2-mile radius of my house, several of which are open year-round. So yeah, we're pretty spoiled.

Happy Birthday Dessert Table - Twins' 5th Birthday Party

My dear friend Yvonne and I have known each other for more than twenty years. We went to college together, we lived two blocks away from one another in San Francisco when we were young and single, we're both lawyers... and we both love to cook. One of my favorite cooking-related sayings, and activities, comes from Yvonne: "reverse engineering." Whenever one of us has a meal at a restaurant that we really love, we like to see if we can reverse engineer the recipe at home, based solely on taste, intuition, and educated guesses. It's fun, and each of us has actually been pretty successful at figuring out what goes into some of our favorite restaurant dishes.

I recently tested my reverse engineering skills again, only this time, a recipe was not the goal. A few weeks ago, I stumbled across a wonderful blog from a woman named Amy Atlas. Have you heard of her? Ms. Atlas is a New York City event planner who has gained national recognition for her stunning dessert tables. Depending on the event, the finished table of sweets might be whimsical, elegant, or modern, but always impeccably and beautifully executed. After seeing another mom's adorable do-it-yourself version*, I was inspired to reverse engineer Ms. Atlas' dessert table formula, and attempt one myself. My twins' 5th birthday was coming up, they each wanted a different flavor of cake, and since we were expecting a crowd for our backyard party (fifteen kids, their parents and siblings, plus our own family of five), it seemed like a good opportunity to give it a shot.