Lemon-Coconut Bundt Cake

These last few posts, I’ve been sharing with you some of my old favorites.  But now it’s time for a new one.  My new favorite recipe.  My new best thing to make for any person or place of occasion.  My new obsession.  And the new obsession too of everyone who’s had a taste. 

I first made this Lemon-Coconut Bundt cake about a month ago, for a casual week-night dinner gathering with a small group of our close friends.  Under normal circumstances, none of us in this group is especially gluttonous or greedy.  For the most part, we’re actually pretty well-mannered, kind of classy even.  But come dessert that night, all five of us turned straight into rude little ravenous pigs.  Each of us raced back to the cake again and again, slicing thicker and thicker slices with each return visit. Within a quarter hour, the cake had entirely disappeared!   

You can’t blame us though.  We were taken by surprise, completely disarmed by this pretty yet humble little confection.  Startled into forgetting all our manners. 

Perhaps we had under-estimated how truly delicious a simple Bundt cake can be.  In fact, we surely did.  With hardly an embellishment to speak of  - no jam filling or glossy frosting or colorful sprinkles – just a light dusting of powdered sugar, this modest dessert seemed too plain to be exciting.  But with one single bite, we fully realized our mistake.  With one single bite, each of us knew for certain, this was one special cake.

Bright with lemon, and with a smooth, full richness of sweet, creamy coconut, this surprising cake is buzzing with intense flavor.  The texture though is what makes it an instant and all-time favorite.  Inside the crisp outer layer of lemony-golden crust, the crumb is dense yet tender, delicate yet springy, and amazingly, utterly, impossibly moist.  Even though we’d collectively decided ages ago, that we unanimously hate the word ‘moist’ (It really is a horrible-sounding word, right?), we just couldn’t help ourselves.  Between ooh’s and ahh’s and more than a couple un-restrained moans of pleasure, that awful word kept popping up, over and over again.  Struck all but dumb by the luscious goodness, there was just nothing else we could possibly say! 

And since, I’ve baked this cake three times again.  Once at the request of those very same friends who shared in the delight of it that first night.  Once for another group, who displayed the exact same happily astonished reaction. And once again, to snap these pictures, and then send Ben off to the office with a surprise treat for his co-workers. Each time I taste it, I’m amazed all over again by how extraordinarily delicious such an unassuming Bundt cake can be.

I know I’ve ruined the twist ending of this little cake’s surprising story, and sorry about that.  But still, I give this dessert the biggest of recommendations.  Definitely, definitely try it.  Even after all my praise and adoration,  you’ll still undoubtedly be surprised by how good it is. 

Lemon-Coconut Bundt Cake Adapted from Veganomicon by I. Moskowitz & T.H. Romero Serves 10 to 12     1 2/3 cup granulated sugar 2/3 cup vegetable or canola oil, plus more for greasing the pan 1 (14-ounce) can coconut milk 1/4 cup water 1/4 cup freshly-squeezed lemon juice 3 Tablespoons finely grated lemon zest 2 teaspoons vanilla extract 3 cups all-purpose flour 2 teaspoons baking powder 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon salt 1 1/2 cups sweetened coconut flakes about 1 Tablespoon confectioners’ sugar, for sprinkling   Pre-heat the oven to 350 F and arrange a rack in the middle position of the oven.  Generously grease a 10-inch Bundt pan with vegetable oil, and set aside.   In a large mixing bowl, stir to combine the sugar, oil, coconut milk, water, lemon juice, lemon zest and vanilla.  In another mixing bowl, whisk to combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.  Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients, doing so in about three batches, and stirring after each addition.  Fold in the coconut.      Pour the batter into the prepared Bundt pan.  Bake for about 50 minutes, or until a wooden tester inserted into the cake comes out clean.  Allow to cool for about 10 minutes on a wire rack.  To invert the cake, place the serving dish up-side-down over the top of the cake pan, then flip over and lift the pan from the cake.   Allow to cool completely.  Once cool, sift a pretty sprinkling of confectioners sugar over the top.  Slice and serve.

Pork & Noodle Soup with Cinnamon & Star Anise

Hello, hello!  These posts have been few and far between lately, I know.  (Hopefully that will all change soon, though!)  But take note: to counterbalance this smallness in quantity, I’m really trying to go big in the quality department!  And so my friends, I offer to you one of my favorite recipes ever, Pork & Noodle Soup with Cinnamon & Star Anise. 

How can I possibly put into words, the deliciousness of this soup, when all I can normally muster up are drawn out ooh’s and an ahh’s?  Well, I think I need to start with the pork – slowly braised, achingly tender shreds of sweetly succulent pork shoulder.  This is a good start, for sure.  And then, the broth – deep in flavor and and dark in color, salty and sweet and absolutely addictive.  It’s an incredible combination of hugely flavorful ingredients – briny soy sauce, sweetly acidic rice wine, and molasses-flavored dark brown sugar.   And spreading throughout this sweet/sour/salty trio are the warm, subtle tones of cinnamon, garlic and star anise.  It sounds like a lot for a tongue to handle, I know.  But please don’t be timid.  This combination of flavors is absolutely miraculous. One bite and you’ll know exactly what I mean.

All this talk about broth, and I nearly forgot about the noodles!  And oh, these bean thread noodles!!  They start our as skinny, brittle threads of spongy weirdness, pale white and wiry, and with no flavor to speak of.  (Check out the picture down below.)  But a quick dip into hot broth, and they absolutely transform, soaking up all the color (and flavor!!) of the soup, becoming shiny, translucent strands of shimmering gold.   Smooth and slippery, they tangle up all the chewy shreds of pork into a giant web of amazing tastiness.  And then atop this rich mess of warm, golden goodness - a bright, fresh sprinkling of sharp green cilantro and scallions.  It’s the last element in the equation, the one that brings everything together, and brightens everything up.

Bite after bite, slurp after slurp, I promise you just won’t be able to get enough of this soup! We’ve made this time and again, and always end up surprised by how incredibly good it is.  Please, make this for yourselves, and soon!  You won’t be sorry!

Pork & Noodle Soup with Cinnamon & Star Anise Adapted from Gourmet Magazine, December 2007 Makes about 6 generous servings The first step here, of browning the pork shoulder in the hot pan, no doubt lends deep flavor and color to the final result.  That said, you’ll still get great results, even if you skip this step.  And you know that that means?  It means that this is  perfect crock pot recipe!  If crock pot cooking is your kind of thing, just add the pork shoulder through the star anise (forget about the oil) to the pot in the morning, and then later that evening, when the pork is completely  tender, follow through with the rest of the steps.    2 Tbl vegetable oil 2 1/2 pounds pork shoulder 9 cups water 1 cup soy sauce 1 cup rice wine (easily found in the Asian aisles of most grocery stores) 6 Tablespoons dark brown sugar, packed 1 large head garlic, sliced in half cross-wise 4 cinnamon sticks 2 star anise about 4 ox bean thread noodles (also called cellophane noodles) about 1/2 cup fresh cilantro leaves, roughly chopped, for garnish about 4 scallions, both white and green parts, finely sliced, for garnish     Heat a large soup pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat for about 2 minutes.  Add the vegetable oil and heat 30 seconds more.  Carefully add the pork shoulder into the hot oil.   Brown on all sides, turning every couple minutes, about 10 minutes total.     When the pork is deeply browned on all sides, add the water, soy sauce, rice wine, brown sugar, garlic, cinnamon stick and star anise.  Bring to a simmer, then cover the pot and lower the heat to maintain a very gently simmer.   Simmer very gently, stirring occasionally, until the pork is incredibly tender, about three hours.  Occasionally skim the surface with a spoon or ladle, to remove any collecting suds or scum.     When utterly tender, transfer the pork to a bowl and coarsely shred the meat.  Discard the pork bones, garlic, cinnamon sticks and star anise.  Return the shredded pork to the broth and return to a simmer over medium heat.  Add the noodles and simmer, uncovered, and stirring occasionally, until tender, about 5 minutes.    Serve hot.  Garnish each bowl with a good pinch of scallions and cilantro.

Carrot Orzo with Rosemary & Parmesan

This post is a long time coming.  Over a month ago, I’d picked out this recipe, cooked it up, snapped tons of photos, down-loaded them, edited them, carefully typed-out the recipe, wrote a few words extolling the loveliness of this dish, and then for some reason, decided to wait overnight to post it.  And then, during that overnight wait, something really bad happened.  My computer crashed.  Just died in its sleep, taking my day’s worth of work, and way too many gigabytes’ worth of other days’ hard work too, with it to the digital underworld.

A few confusing phone calls to an overseas help desk didn’t help much, just left me more hopeless than I’d been before, and pretty thoroughly convinced that the hard drive was totally fried.  To make matters worse, I simultaneously stumbled into some very murky, despairing problems with our on-line back-up service.  It looked like everything was gone for good. 

And then a computer genius named Dan fortuitously came into our lives, took our sick hard drive for a few days, worked some impressive magic, recovered all our pictures, documents and even music, and all-around totally saved the day.  Suffice it to say, we have a new hero.   Thank you, thank you, Computer Dan!

But, there was still one not so little problem to deal with.  Even though we recovered all our lost files and documents, they were now completely disorganized.   Nothing was named, nothing carefully arranged anymore within those cute folder icons.  No order or sense to it whatsoever.  Just one long (really, really long, like probably at least fifty-thousand or so long, because each file was copied about a dozen times, I think as a safety measure, but I’m not exactly sure why) list of numbered documents, each of which had to be opened, re-named and re-organized.  Luckily I love to organize things, and so I tackled this project with about as much gusto as is humanly possible.  So now, a couple times a day, when I have a spare few minutes, and want to indulge in a bit of mindless organizing, I’ll sort through a small corner of the mess, working my way a little closer to the ultimate neat and orderly end goal.  I’m about a third of the way through now.

 
It’s not been all that bad.  Actually a little bit fun, and pleasantly nostalgic, stumbling every now and again across favorite wedding pictures, forgotten recipes or old projects from culinary school.  And to boot, every once and a while, I’ll open a file and up will pop a photo from the night before the big crash.  So, one by one, I’ve collected these pretty pictures of freshly scrubbed carrots and simmering orzo, and tucked them away in a special folder.  And once that folder was sufficiently full, I figured it was time to attempt this post again.  And so, here we go, and you can be sure I’ll click “publish” right as soon as I’ve typed the last word.  No waiting for tomorrow, this time ‘round! 

And now, I’ve all of a sudden realized that I’ve been going on and on about this dang computer for a kind of really long time now.  You’re curiosity about my computer woes is most likely totally satisfied at this point, I’m sure.  Sorry to ramble, but I guess I’m just feeling a little bit guilty for not posting so often lately, and I wanted you all to know why.  Needless to say, the blogging’s been rough-going here for a while  now, but I’m pretty confident that I’ll find my natural stride again sometime soon.  In the meantime, thanks for being so patient! 

So, let’s talk about this Carrot Orzo.  It’s a recipe I’d picked up in culinary school.  It’s funny, but I don’t often prepare dishes learned in my cooking classes.  I learned tons and tons, and got so much out of school – theory, technique, special tricks and classic methods – and it’s all absolutely priceless to me.  But to me, culinary school was never about collecting recipes.  And so, this one dish is a very rare case.  I remember the day I first made it, and all through the preparation I thought it was nothing special.  And then I took one little taste, and I fell hard for it.  Loved it straight away.  I emailed the recipe to my mom that night (who fell in love at first taste too), and made it again for our own dinner within a week. 

Now I realize that carrots can tend to end up on the boring end of the vegetable spectrum.  But nonetheless, this dish on the whole is pretty exciting, thanks in good part to the adorably nimble specks of orzo, which always add such a dose of fun.  Simmered in rich chicken stock, and with just a touch of freshly minced garlic, the carrots and orzo soak up immense amounts of flavor, absorbing the golden liquid and becoming tender and creamy.   Once cooked, the always amazing ingredients of Parmesan, green onions and rosemary are added.  The parmesan adds an earthy, salty richness, and ups the creamy factor ten-fold.  The minced green onions add a small, spicy bite of fresh greenness.   And the rosemary, ah the rosemary adds ages of complexity and leagues of depth.  It was this floral wave of rosemary that first had me smitten with this dish.  Like a gorgeous ribbon wrapped around a simple present, the rosemary ties all these singular ingredients together into an incredible gift of a dish. 

And so, my friends, you really should try out this dish.  It’s pretty simple, and totally great alongside any sort of meat you might be having for dinner.  On the night I made this for Ben & myself, we had it alongside grilled pork chops and a simpler version of this kale salad.  But it would be wonderful with roasted chicken or grilled steaks or even lamb chops.  Delicious with anything really.  So, don’t wait to try it out for yourselves, because really, you’ve waited long enough for this recipe already!

Carrot Orzo with Rosemary & Parmesan Serves 6 to 8 as a side Orzo looks a lot like a big grain of rice, but don’t be confused - it’s not rice at all.  It’s actually a specially-shaped pasta. It cooks just like any other kind of pasta, and tastes the same too.  But it’s way cuter than spaghetti, and loads more fun to eat, compared to fettuccini.  One happy bite of orzo fills your mouth with dozens of sprightly, springy specks.  This really is a one-of-a kind noodle!    1/2 pound carrots, peeled and finely diced (about 1/4-inch thick) 3 Tablespoons butter 1 1/2 cup orzo pasta 2 cloves garlic, minced 2 1/4 cups water 2 cups chicken stock (I really like Swanson’s Certified Organic Free Range Chicken Broth.) 1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese 2 green onions, finely chopped (both white & green parts) 1/2 Tablespoon fresh rosemary, finely minced   To finely dice the carrots, first thinly slice each carrot diagonally into ovals about 1/8-inch thick.  Slice these ovals lengthwise  into 1/8-inch thick strips.  Then slice these strips cross-wise into 1/8-inch thick little cubes.  (Check out the picture below.)  Set aside the diced carrots, to be used a little later.  (If you’re not up for dicing the carrots, you can always add 1-inch chunks of carrots to an electric food processor, and pulse until finely diced to about 1/8-inch.)   Melt the butter in a medium-sized saucepot set over medium heat.  Add the diced carrots, orzo and minced garlic, and cook, stirring frequently, for about 1 to 2 minutes.     Add the water and chicken stock.  Bring to a boil, then lower the heat to maintain a gently simmer.  Simmer, uncovered, until the liquid is absorbed, about 20 minutes or so.  Add the Parmesan, green onions and rosemary and stir to combine.  Serve hot.

Dark Chocolate Cookies with Tart Cherries

Hello everybody!  Were you beginning to really wonder about me?  Where I could possibly be? And when I’d ever (if ever) be coming back?  Well I don’t really have a great answer or excuse.  Just that, well, I guess inertia got the better of me, and once my computer crashed, and my digital life came to a crashing halt, it was just tough getting all my gears in motion again.  And plus, after blogging about fifty-two weekly dinner parties, it was pretty easy to convince myself that I deserved a bit of a break from the blogosphere.  But now, I’m back, and back to say!  And it’s so, so good to be back.   Thanks for waiting.  And now, let’s get rolling!

I guess I missed the mark with Valentines day.  Shoot.  But I still want to share with you today a very Valentines-y recipe: Dark Chocolate Cookies with Tart Cherries.  Soft and tender, with delicate, crackly tops and a quick crunch from a dusting of glittery sugar, these insanely delicious cookies are filled with hugely deep cocoa flavor, molten pockets of rich, oozing chocolate, and chewy, bright bites of tart red cherries.  With every bite, you’ll fall more deeply in love with this cookie, just as the person for whom you baked them, is sure to fall more deeply in with you. 

And even thought it’s too late to make these for your true-love and hide them in his locker (chocolate chip cookies were always my Valentines Day go-to gift for my high-school boyfriend) this year, these incredible cookies will be a sensation all year round.  So I don’t feel all too guilty for my tardiness. 

Truly one of our favorite cookies, and undeniably delicious, they’re gorgeous and sophisticated and all around lovely too.  A perfect thing to pack into a pretty tin and bring along to lunch at a friend’s, or to give a neighbor as a birthday treat, or to send to work with your husband to share with co-workers.  Perfect for any special day, be it a birthday or Christmas or even just a random Tuesday in September.  But they’re especially perfect for Valentines Day.  Back in December, I’d been tempted to  include them in the Christmas Cookies Exchange post, but I knew I had special Valentines Day plans in mind for them.  And then what did I do, but drop the Valentines ball.  And even though these are awesome any day of the year, now that I think about it,  I really am bummed I didn’t get this recipe to you all in time, because they really are perfect for that bright red day in February.  A perfect, homemade treat for anyone you love.  I’ll be sure to remind you about these again, early next February.  But just a word of advice, don’t wait until then to make ‘em! 

Dark Chocolate Cookies with Tart Cherries Adapted from a recipe in Martha Stewart’s Cookies Makes about 3 dozen cookies Sometimes, I like to bake these cookies just a few at a time, so we can enjoy them fresh out of the oven whenever we want.  I’ll make a whole batch of dough, following the directions through the step of forming the balls of dough and rolling them in sugar.  I freeze the sugar-dusted dough balls on a sheet tray until solid, then transfer them into a zip-lock bag.  They stay tucked away in the freezer until we crave a bit of tart, chocolaty sweetness, then we simply remove a few, arrange them on a parchment-lined baking sheet, and bake until puffed and crackly on top.  In about fifteen minutes, we have hot, gooey cookies, fresh out of the oven, and without any fuss at all.    1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour 1 1/4 cups unsweetened Dutch-process cocoa powder (If you can find it, I love this brand.) 2 teaspoons baking soda 1/4 teaspoon salt 2 1/2 sticks (1 1/4 cups) unsalted butter, room temperature 1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract 1 1/4 cups granulated sugar, plus about 1/2 cup more for dusting 3/4 cup packed dark brown sugar 2 large eggs 12 ounces bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped 1 1/2 firmly packed cups dried cherries (about 9 ounces)   Pre-heat the oven to 350°F.  Arrange racks in the upper and lower thirds of the oven.  Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside.   In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda and salt.     In the bowl of an electric stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, beat the butter, vanilla, granulated sugar and brown sugar on medium-high, until light and fluffy, about three minutes.  Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a rubber spatula, as needed.  Add the eggs, one at a time, mixing to incorporate after each addition.  Add the flour mixture, and beat on low speed until just combined, being careful not to over-mix.  Using a wooden spoon, fold in the chopped chocolate and the cherries.      Form balls of dough, each about a scant 2 tablespoons.  Roll each dough ball in a small bowl filled with about 1/2 cup granulated sugar, to coat it evenly.  Place the sugar-dusted dough balls on the prepared baking sheets, arranging them about 2 to 3 inches apart     Bake just until the cookies puff and the  tops crack, about 10 to 12 minutes, rotating the baking sheets half-way through.  Using a thin metal spatula, transfer the cookies to a wire rack to cool completely.  Can be stored at room temperature  in an air-tight container for up to three days.

A Bit of a Delay

Hello everyone!    I bet you’re wondering where I’ve been lately!  Well, the truth is, nowhere special.  It’s just that I’m having some big-time computer issues.  My hard drive crashed last week.  And just before I was about to make my first non-dinner party post!  I had this great recipe to share with you, for this really wonderful, incredibly delicious orzo dish, with speckles of chopped carrots, a creamy sauce of parmesan cheese, and huge bursts of fresh rosemary.  One of my favorite side dish recipes, it had been waiting patiently all last year to be shared with you.  Unfortunately, it will have to wait a little longer.  The computer is with my computer guy right now, and I’m not yet sure whether he’ll be able to recover all the information on it.  All looks hopeful, but I want to wait until I know for certain, before I cook this  up again, take all the pictures again, and blog about it again.    And now I’m off to New York today, to do some private cheffing and to cater a couple parties this coming weekend.  And that means I’ll be away from the blogging for even a little bit longer.  I’m disappointed to keep having to put this off.  But to let you all in on a little secret, it’s kind of nice to have a bit of a break too!    Thanks everybody, for being so patient and understanding!  And rest assured, I’ll be getting that awesome carrot orzo recipe to you sooner or later, one way or another, and with lots more good stuff to follow shortly.     Here’s cheers to all of you! Kate

New Years Eve Midnight Pancake Dinner

Well, here is is!  The very last of the fifty-two weekly dinner parties!  Number Fifty-Two!  I can hardly believe it’s all over.  My incredulousness mixes with a near-equal blend of relief and regret.  Ben and I both are certainly relieved  that our social patterns can now return to normal, glad that we can now share more ‘regular’ time with our friends (i.e. time not spent in preparation of elaborate meals, with picture snapping at every step along the way), and positively delighted that we can nudge some of our grocery budget towards the eating-out column.  But at the very same time, we’re both more than little bit sad that this fun year, this friend-filled and food-filled year is over.  While undeniably a bit of an undertaking on both our parts, this year-long project has brought us so much joy, so many incredible evenings with some truly amazing people, and countless wonderful memories.  Priceless memories we’d never have made were it not for this blog. 

Before I get blogging about this final Scrumptious Company soiree, I need to say a few well-deserved thank you’s.  Thank you first to Ben, my incredible husband, who gave not a single sideways glance as I concocted up this crazy scheme; who soaked and scrubbed and rinsed and dried countless dishes, pots and pans; who made an estimated fifty-two last minute trips to the neighborhood grocery store for that one last thing I suddenly needed; who vacuumed, mopped and dusted way more than (I promise) he’ll ever have to do again the rest of his life; and who is just about the most warm, charming and handsome host, that any hostess ever could wish for.

Thank you too, to all our Scrumptious Company guests – my mom and dad, sisters and grandparents, our cousins and aunts and uncles, and our wonderful friends, Chicago friends and out-of-towners, brand new friends and ones way back from childhood.  We absolutely loved our special nights with each and every one of you.  Thank you all so much for making this such an extraordinary experience!  You are always, always welcome at our kitchen table. 

And last but not anywhere close to least, thank you to you all, my readers.  I can’t even describe how thrilling it is, knowing that all of you are out there, reading my words, scrolling through my pictures, and best of all, trying out my recipes!  Each comment, message and email from you has been a precious gift to me.  I am so grateful for your support, encouragement and contagious enthusiasm.  Without you, this blog truly could never be.  You readers are my most special of special ingredients.  Were every cook to have such a stockpile of love and support in their cabinets and cupboards, I can only imagine how delicious this world would be.  Thank you all, from the pit of my always hungry stomach and the bottom of my ever full heart. 

And there’s one last matter I must address before I get started on this 52nd dinner party.  Because I know a lot of you are wondering.  I would be too, wondering: Is this it?  The absolute end?  The very last Scrumptious Company post?   

And to those wonderings I say, No way!  The last of the weekly dinner parties, yes.  (Damn straight, yes!)  But the end of it all?  I’ve loved blogging way too much for that.  Loved trying out new, cool recipes, and sharing some of my old favorites.  Loved having this virtual foodie connection with all of you.  Loved trying my hand at writing again (much less painful that it ever was during school).  And really, really, really loved learning about photography.  There’s no way I want to stop now!  And so now, rather than the multi-course and multi-recipe menus you’ve been getting, you can count on a single recipe a week, maybe two on good weeks.  Neat-sounding and delicious-looking foods I find in cookbooks and magazines, favorite recipes of my friends and fellow chefs, new creations I concoct or finally perfect after months or years of tweaking, and some of my all-time favorite treats, chef secrets, and cherished family dishes.  That my friends, is what we have in store for 2011.  (Happy New Year everybody, by the way!!)

And now, with no further ado, Dinner Party Number Fifty-Two:

New Year’s Eve Midnight Pancake Supper    Fresh-Squeezed Clementine Juice Blueberry-Gingerbread Pancakes Cinnamon Ice Cream Maple-Candied Bacon

The honored guests of this last SC dinner party, and first true SC slumber party, four of my little cousins – Kate, Mary, Ellen & Caroline.  After a unusually warm New Year’s Eve afternoon out and about in down-town Chicago (also spent with my Aunt LeAnn, Uncle David and cousin Jack), we took a very crowded cab-ride home (all nine of us, a record for our cabbie) and settled in for a food-filled extravaganza.  Eight rounds of top-your-own pizzas.  Izzy sodas, root beers and Coca-Colas in glass bottles (extra-sophisticated).  And tons of junk food – Puppy Chow (i.e. Muddy Buddies), home-made caramel corn, and a heaping bin of candy (perhaps a bit less sophisticated, as was the prank phone calling we got into later).  And then, to ring in the new year, more sugar – gingerbread pancakes, cinnamon ice cream & maple-candied bacon!

The freshly squeezed clementine juice was by far the most healthful thing we consumed all night.  It was made even more so by the work-out it took to extract it.  The girls formed an assembly line: one slicing the fruit, the next passing the clementine halves through the mechanical juicer, and a third giving the juiced halves one last squeeze for good measure.  At the end of the line we had a gorgeous juice, in the most beautiful shade of orange, with lots of tender pulp and amazing flavor, sweeter and smoother than orange juice, and incredibly delicious sipped from Champagne glasses. (It was New Year’s Eve, after all!)

The sweet anchor of this sugary feast was the blueberry-gingerbread pancakes.  Incredibly, unbelievably fluffy, with crisp, golden brown tops and bottoms, purple insides chock-full of plump juicy blueberries, warm spices of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves, and rich molasses flavor from a big scoop of dark brown sugar.  I have to confess, what I describe above are not the pancakes I served the girls, but a new recipe I’ve tried out since.  The gingerbread pancakes I served for them, I made by following a recipe that had rave reviews and the highest of marks on-line.  I thought I was safe, but alas, with too much molasses and not enough sugar, they were just too, as Caroline put it, grown-upy.  Even slathered with melting butter and maple syrup and topped with a scoop of ice cream.  Too grown-upy even for me.   But the gingerbread pancakes I lauded above, the ones made from a completely new recipe, those were none too grown-upy at all.  These are as kid-friendly, and adult–friendly too, as pancakes can be. 

The crowning glory on top of the towers of pancakes, home-made cinnamon ice cream.  Cinnamon ties with coffee as my favorite ice cream flavor.  Coffee because it reminds me of my Grandma Schoen, who can always be counted on to have a pint of coffee Haagen Dazs in her freezer.  And cinnamon because it reminds me of Bill Knapp's, a now extinct restaurant I loved as a kid.  It had the best chocolate cake in the world, but even better, it had homemade cinnamon ice cream.  Both of these flavors, combined with closed eyes, are instant tickets back to my childhood.  The coffee ice cream I can find during any trip to the grocery store.  But cinnamon ice cream, well that is a much rarer treat.  When I I crave it, I usually have to make it myself.  So thank goodness I’ve got a killer cinnamon ice cream recipe!  Seriously, this stuff is sensational – creamy and dense and smooth, with huge cinnamon flavor on top of a perfect level of sweetness.  Now that I’ve had a recent taste of it, I’m completely hooked.  We’ve made three batches this week!

And finally, because I like to save the very best for the very, very end – maple-candied bacon.  Thick, thick slices of smoky, salty bacon, slathered again and again with pure maple syrup as they slowly bake in the oven, becoming crisp and chewy and incredibly sticky, with a golden crust of sugary glaze.  Man oh man, bacon itself is amazing, but this, this is a miracle!
 

Well everyone, I suppose that’s it.  The end.  But also, just the beginning!  I hope you’re as excited as I am about the coming year – all the new treats and snacks and fabulous dishes, the pictures and stories, the sharing of deliciousness!  Here’s to a tasty 2011! 
 

 

Fresh-Squeezed Clementine Juice Makes about 1 quart        about 24 medium-sized clementines   Slice each clementine in half cross-wise.  Juice the clementines with an electrical, mechanical or hand-held juicer, or simply by squeezing with your hands.  If you end up using a juicer, you may still be able to squeeze out a little extra juice by hand.  Collect the clementine juice in a pitcher or large measuring cup.  Remove any seeds by straining with a fork.  Strain the juice through a fine sieve if you do not like pulp.  Refrigerate until ready to serve.  Before pouring in to glasses, be sure to give the juice a stir, because the pulp likes to settle at the bottom.  Serve cold.

 

 

Blueberry-Gingerbread Pancakes Adapted from Gourmet Magazine, November 2003 Makes about 18 pancakes      3 cups all-purpose flour 1 cup packed dark brown sugar 1 Tbl baking powder 1 1/2 tsp baking soda 1 tsp kosher salt 1 tsp ground cinnamon 1 tsp ground ginger 1/4 tsp ground nutmeg pinch ground cloves 1/2 cup water 1/2 cup brewed coffee, room temperature 4 large eggs 1 stick unsalted butter, melted and cooled 1/4 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice 2 cups blueberries (fresh or frozen; if frozen, not thawed) vegetable oil, for brushing the griddle In a large mixing bowl, whisk together the flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg and cloves.  In a separate medium-sized mixing bowl, whisk together the water, coffee, eggs, butter and lemon juice.  Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and whisk until just combined.   Let stand 10 minutes.  (The batter with thicken.) Fold in the blueberries with a rubber spatula.  Heat a large griddle or skillet over medium-low heat.  Grease lightly with vegetable oil, then wipe dry with a paper towel.  Working in batches of 3 or 4 at a time, pour about 1/4 cup batter per pancake onto the pre-heated griddle.  Cook until the undersides are lightly browned and bubbles form on the top surface and the undersides are lightly browned, about 3 to 5 minutes.  Flip the with a spatula then cook until the pancakes are cooked through and the edges are lightly browned, about 3 to 5 minutes.  (But it could take even longer, to cook all the way through.)  Serve hot, with hot maple syrup, room temperature butter, and if you’re in the mood for even more sweetness, a scoop of cinnamon ice cream on top.  (See recipe below.)

 

 

Cinnamon Ice Cream Makes about 6 cups         2 cups heavy cream 1 cup milk  2 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 1/2 cup plus 1/2 cup white sugar, divided  10 large egg yolks pinch salt   Combine the cream, milk, cinnamon and 1/2 cup sugar in a medium-sized sauce pot and bring just to a simmer over medium heat. Whisk the egg yolks with the remaining 1/2 cup sugar and pinch of salt. Pour about a third of the hot cream mixture into the yolks, whisking constantly as you pour. Return this egg-cream mixture back into the remaining hot cream mixture in the saucepan and cook, stirring constantly, until the custard thickens enough to coat the back of the spoon. The temperature of the custard should not exceed 180°F. Strain the custard into a 2 quart container and cool to room temperature, stirring occasionally, then cover and refrigerate until very cold, about four hours to overnight. Process in an ice cream maker, according to the manufacturer’s instructions.  After processing, transfer to an airtight container and freeze until ready to serve.

 

 

Maple-Candied Bacon Serves 4       16 pieces of extra-thickly sliced bacon about 1/2 cup real maple syrup     Pre-heat the oven to 325°F.    Arrange the bacon in a single layer over wire racks placed over rimmed baking pans.  Using a pastry brush, brush the tops of each bacon slice with maple syrup.  Bake for 10 minutes, then brush again with maple syrup.  Continue baking for 10 minutes and brushing with syrup until the tops of the slices are lightly browned.  Then flip the slices over, brush with maple syrup and return to the oven for 10 minutes.  Again, continue baking 10 minutes and brushing in between, until the bacon is done to your desired level of crunchiness.  This can take anywhere from 45 minute on, total, depending on the thickness of the bacon, and on how crispy you like it.  Be careful as you lift the bacon from the wire racks, as they tend to get very sticky, and may rip.  Serve hot or warm.