Back to Business

Well that was not at all the week I planned to have. Whoa.

Take my advice: if you have a big trip to Chicago planned and a wedding to attend, do not come down with the stomach flu two days beforehand like I did- thats not fun at all. It also explains my absence from this site which I'm sorry about- I'll make it up to you in banana bread, I promise. 

Luckily the nausea subsided and the wedding was one of the loveliest I have been to- with an old farm as the backdrop and the air misty with rain. I wore my Frye boots and we danced for hours and I spilled a large glass of red wine on the white tablecloth. I swear, I'm hardly worthy of human company sometimes. 

But now it's Monday again, and we're back in Seattle and back to life as usual so, you know, blah blah blah, lets get back to business shall we?

This is my absolute favorite banana bread recipe. It uses Greek yogurt, which I love, and it boasts a moist crumb with dreamy banana undertones and a perfectly golden crust. 

Plus it's lickety-split to assemble whenever the mood strikes, assuming you have over-ripe (and totally unsexy) bananas on hand. I like to keep some in the freezer for banana bread emergencies.

Banana Bread

Adapted from The Martha Stewart Cookbook

Over the years this basic banana bread recipe has varied slightly from Martha's original. I substitute Greek yogurt for the sour cream and split the flour between all purpose and whole wheat, which I think gives it a rustic nutty flavor. If you don't have whole wheat flour on hand use 1 3/4 cup all purpose flour instead. 

1 cup whole wheat flour

1 cup all purpose flour

1/2 tsp salt

1 tsp baking soda

pinch of cinnamon

1/2 cup butter, at room temperature

3/4 cup sugar

2 large egg whites, lightly beaten

3 mashed very ripe bananas

1/2 cup Greek yogurt

1 tsp vanilla extract

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9-inch loaf pan and set aside. Sift together the flours, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon and set aside.

Using an electric mixer with the paddle attachment, combine the butter and the sugar until light and fluffy. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and add egg whites, bananas, Greek yogurt, and vanilla. Mix until combined. 

In several additions add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and beat until blended. 

Pour the batter into the loaf pan and bake for 60 minutes or until a tester inserted in the center of the loaf comes out clean. Let cool in the pan for 10 minutes and then turn out onto a wire rack to cool completely. 

Twenty-Fine

Yesterday I turned twenty-nine. Or as my friend Lauren told me: twenty-fine. 

The night before that there were oysters.  

Fresh. Pacific. Oysters. Just the way I like them: raw, on the half shell, with nothing but their own liquor, seawater, and a small spoonful of slushy mignonette to slurp down. 

There was also Prosecco.

Lots of Prosecco. 

And Hana made an amazing pasta dish. 

And maybe, just maybe, there was a brief round of Glee Wii. 

Twenty-fine, indeed. 

Piles Of It

Sometimes life feels like a giant pile of complications. Like work, and bills, and apartment leases, and constantly forgetting to make dental appointments are all mixed up in one big bowl of soup that you’re supposed to eat for dinner. Really? Worst. Meal. Ever. Also, I need a haircut. 

Complicated? Yeah. It happens to you and it happens to me. Luckily there are friends, and softball games, and birthday dinners to remedy the situation.

We had a full week of those things, starting with Hana's birthday at Haruko's .

It was a lovely evening and I had such a nice time with everyone and the Sapporo and the sushi and the flash on my camera.

The food was incredible too, and I’m not just saying that because it was Hana’s parent’s restaurant. I’m saying that because it was goooood. Seriously, if you live in Seattle or ever find yourself on Mercer Island, go to Haruko's. Get the Black Cod. Consider these your marching orders.

Dinner was followed the next night with cheering on a softball game and margaritas at Poquitos.

And we rounded out the week with drinks at Sun Liquor, brunch at Monsoon, dinner at Delancey's  and Nelson’s incredible beef noodle soup and homemade wontons. I will get that recipe one day, mark my words.

As you can tell I didn’t get much cooking done- or make a dentist appointment, and I still need that haircut- but we ate well just the same. It started raining again on Sunday so we threw on an old jazz record and roasted up some fresh farmer’s market asparagus wrapped in prosciutto which was so delicious and so simple that you really should try it.

There’s not much of a recipe involved. You simply preheat the oven to 350 degrees, trim and wash the asparagus, then wrap it in a thin slice of prosciutto leaving the tips exposed. Line them up like a raft on a still sea of parchment paper and slide them into the oven where they begin to slowly sizzle and crisp, the prosciutto turning a gorgeous shade of burnished red. Fifteen minutes later they emerge- crispy on the edges and the asparagus cooked just to tender. Like most things, it pairs well with a hunk of crusty bread, a soft boiled egg, and a glass or two of wine.   

Before Digging In

Once upon a time Jimmy and I took a weekend trip to Chicago. During that trip, on a lovely sun dabbled Saturday, we ate at Avec.

At Avec they have a dessert of the day, and the dessert of that particular day was a Rhubarb Crisp with Mascarpone Ice Cream. You can see it listed on the sign in the picture above. They served it hot in a 5-inch cast iron skillet and the rhubarb was still bubbling slightly as it snuck between the lacy edges of the crisp, mingling and melding as it mixed with the slowly melting ice cream. Unfortunately you won’t see any of that in the photo above. Somehow it vanished before I could snap one. I’m sorry about that, it was extremely pretty. Also, it tasted amazing. Like really, really, amazing. Like, my stomach has been rumbling at more or less regular intervals for it, amazing. So, upon our return to Seattle, I began counting down the days until Rhubarb season arrived (which for the record was 43).

I’m not typically great at recreating dishes that I’ve eaten somewhere else, but this time, I had a good feeling about it. Crisp recipes are always easy and I have a lovely one that my Grandma passed down to me when Jimmy and I got married. The rhubarb essentially takes care of itself and the mascarpone ice cream, well, David Lebovitz gave me confidence for that. I hope Avec will forgive me for taking such liberties. It was fantastic and I took a lot of pictures, just for you (that’s what you see in the photos above and below in case you were wondering). It’s not as pretty as the one we ate at Avec, but I’m also sharing the recipe with you. I hope you’ll find it a fair exchange.

Composed of the usual suspects, the crisp comes together in a snap. Once in the oven its tousled top goes perfectly brown, crisp on the edges, and then soft where it meets the sassy red hue and juicy tartness of the rhubarb underneath. Sitting on top, the rich mascarpone ice cream holds the whole thing together and combines the sweet nutty cap with quiet notes of rosy bitterness.

Is it weird to call a dessert precious? Because that’s what it was. Not too precious to eat, of course, but definitely worth staring at lovingly for a moment before digging in.

Rhubarb Crisp

I adapted the crisp from a recipe that’s been in my family for five generations. My grandma wrote on the recipe card: “this is where I started adding citrus zest, when that became popular”. I like that. It’s a pretty basic crisp recipe so there’s plenty of wiggle room to play with different nuts or spices. I imagine walnuts and cardamom would be nice additions.

The mascarpone ice cream is one I had to play with a little but I would be remiss in not giving some credit to David Lebovitz and his book The Perfect Scoop. I’m definitely not the first person to sing his praises, nor will I be the last, but seriously, it’s an ultimate kitchen necessity.  Spend some time with this book and you will be a master ice cream maker in no time.

I posted the recipe for the ice cream over at Honest Cooking. Stop by to read the article, get the recipe, and say hi!

Ingredients: 

8 Tablespoons cold butter, cut into large chunks, plus extra for greasing pan

3 pounds rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 1 inch chunks (I found this to be about 5 cups)

¼ cup granulated sugar

1 Tablespoon freshly squeezed orange juice

1 Teaspoon fresh orange zest

¾ cup brown sugar

¾ cup all purpose flour

Pinch of cinnamon

Pinch of salt

¾ cup rolled old fashioned oats (not quick-cook)

½ cup chopped pecans (I like to blitz them in the food processor)

Instructions:

Heat oven to 375 degrees. Grease baking dish with butter. I like to use miniature tart dishes but an 8 or 9 inch baking dish works nicely too. Stir together the rhubarb, granulated sugar, orange juice, and zest in a medium bowl and set aside.

Combine the butter, brown sugar, flour, cinnamon, and salt in a food processor and pulse for about 30 seconds until dough begins to come together and resembles small peas. Add the oats and pecans and pulse a few more times until combined.

Place the rhubarb in the baking dish or divide between individual tart dishes so that it evenly covers bottom. Crumble the crisp topping over the rhubarb and bake in oven until top just begins to turn golden brown and the rhubarb is bubbling. Remember that individual oven times will vary, mine took around 40 minutes, but I would check frequently as crisp is baking so that it doesn't burn.

Serve warm with homemade mascarpone ice cream .

Makes 4-6 individual crisps depending on tart pan size and rhubarb thickness. Crisp cooked in baking dish serves 6-8 people.

Bear With Me

Something is happening in Seattle.

The muted beiges of winter are finally giving way to a whole spectrum of pinks, oranges, reds, and greens. Rhubarb and asparagus have officially arrived and last weekend’s market was filled with spindly farm stand carrots, colorful radishes, and loads of summery herbs.

Unfortunately, here in Seattle, spring can be a slow and fickle lady- she’s warm one day, then cold and showery the next. With high temperatures barely reaching the 60’s, she’s pretty noncommittal, you know, relationship-wise. She gives you just enough sun and produce to get you excited about summer’s long warm days, cold beers, and windows wide open, without actually allowing you to indulge in any of it.

Take last weekend for example. The sun was shining and Jimmy and I broke out the bikes for our first long ride of the season. This was it, I thought, spring is here! Later, that very same night, I found myself brewing a cup of hot tea and pulling on my grey wool socks. See what I mean about fickle? When we first moved here it was hard to accept, but I’m starting to get it now- in Seattle, summer never really arrives until July 5th- just far enough away to leave me longing for warm sunny days, but not so far off to curb my enthusiasm. So yesterday, I made this list:

THINGS I WANT TO DO THIS SUMMER:

1. Go on long car rides and sing loudly to Van Morrison

2. Take a ferry to Lummi Island and eat at The Willows Inn
3. Swim, hike, and picnic-preferably all in the same day

4. Drink wine on our front stoop

5. Sleep in a tent

6. Convince Jimmy to sleep in a tent

7. Take weekend trips to Portland, Vancouver, and Whistler

8. Have a beachside bonfire

9. Drink summery cocktails

10. Pick blackberries, and blueberries, and strawberries

11. Wear cute sundresses and short sleeves and sandals

12. Freeze produce

13. Learn to make jam

14. Take long bike rides

15. Make popsicles

16. Drink $3 Sunday Bloody Marys on the patio at Kings

17. Eat loads of tomatoes

18. Wear sunscreen- the kind that smells like coconut, and vacation, and hammocks on the beach

19. Watch sunsets at the sculpture park
20. Visit new farmer’s markets

It’s an incomplete list but every time I look at it, I can’t help but feel that summer is on the way. Until then there will be radishes, and rhubarb, and asparagus- preferably skillet asparagus with plenty of butter.

Skillet Asparagus

Adapted from Edna Lewis via Saveur

In all honesty, I feel a little silly to be sitting here telling you about this. I mean its asparagus…in a skillet. It’s nobody’s breaking news and it’s a dish that hardly deserves a recipe, much less a whole post, but bear with me. We had it for lunch yesterday, and it was so fast and so fresh and so delicious that I decided 1) Edna Lewis was a complete genius and 2) you really needed to know about it.

The bare-bones concept goes like this: heat some butter in a skillet until it gets hot and frothy, then toss in the asparagus and knock it around for a few minutes. Warmed in butter, the asparagus relaxes, releasing its inherently sweet woodsy flavor. Once the asparagus is bright green and cooked just to tender, throw it on a plate, season it with salt and pepper and shaved parmesan, if you’re feeling fancy, and Ta Daaa! Lunch is served. All told, it shares the plate beautifully with a poached egg and a hunk of crusty bread, oh, and a gin and tonic is nice too.

Ingredients:

1 pound fresh asparagus, rinsed and tough ends trimmed

1 tablespoon of butter

Salt/Pepper to taste

Shaved Parmesan (optional)

I like to soak my asparagus in clean water for a couple of hours prior to cooking it. This helps to release some of the dirt that can get caught in the thick woody stalks.

Heat butter in a heavy skillet with a tight fitting lid until it is hot and beginning to foam. Place asparagus in pan and gently shake to coat in butter. Cover tightly and cook over medium heat for about three minutes, checking occasionally and turning as needed to prevent stalks from burning. Continue cooking for an additional five minutes, or until the asparagus is tender but still bright green. Season to taste with salt and peper and/or shaved parmesan if desired. Serve hot.

 

Sighing is Optional

Over at Honest Cooking this week, I'm sharing a pasta recipe that will have you swooning in no time. That is, of course, if you believe in the seductive power of beets.

The whole dish was summed up quite appropriately by Jimmy, who after his first bite, looked up at me, sighed, and said "wow" before continuing on to finish the bowl. Really, you had to hear him say it to get the full effect, but you get the main idea. He liked it quite a bit, and I think you will too. With a little butter, oil, and heat, the beets quickly caramalize, giving off a deep, rich, and subtly sweet flavor that is totally irresistible. When combined with the pappardelle, creme fraiche, and parsley, the result is a dream boat pasta situation- completely delicious and pretty enough to elicit a lot of contented sighing. Its persuasive stuff. Stop by Honest Cooking and give it a try. Sighing is optional, but highly recommended.