Granola

 
Ben and I are in a granola phase right now.  It has a little something to do with the warmer weather, I’m sure.  Just about this time every year, our morning routines shift a bit, and we end up saying a sentimental goodbye to our regular winter breakfast of stone-cut oatmeal with stewed fruit, and waving a warm, enthusiastic hello to its summery cousin,  granola with yogurt, fresh fruit and a drizzle of honey.

It also has something to do with Ben’s many up-coming hiking trips.  Granola is always a back-pack staple for him.  Tossing it with all sorts of goodies – peanut M&M’s, salty green pistachios, wrinkled golden raisins, sugary dried papaya, wide white chips of coconut, etc, etc  - he can make dozens of differing assortments of delicious trail mix.  Dividing it up into pre-portioned snack baggies is a regular pre-trip ritual for him, his first step in packing up his bag. 

But mostly, our recent renewed enthusiasm for granola is a direct result of a surprise gift of thick, creamy yogurt, given to us by our dear friends Erin & Karim, all the way from Dubai.  Karim’s jet-setting job takes him to Dubai pretty regularly.  And when we marveled at his tales of the incredible yogurt he enjoys while abroad, he responded by smuggling in a huge tub of the stuff for us on his very next return trip!  Immensely luscious and impossibly creamy, this yogurt was absolutely  to die for.  We were utterly thrilled by the unexpected surprise.  And so I responded in turn by whipping up a double batch of our favorite granola.  Figuring that home-made granola is a somewhat even trade for smuggled yogurt, I made a surprise delivery to Erin & Karim, gifting them back with a perfect partner for their twin tub of imported yogurt.

And so, let me tell you a bit about this favorite granola recipe of ours.  Aside from being addictively delicious, it’s as plain and simple as any granola recipe could possibly get.  Nothing more than oats and almonds really, with a bit of sweetness from dark brown sugar and golden honey, a savory warmth from cinnamon and vanilla, and an addictive edge from a generous sprinkling of salt.  A hearty crunch and even tones of golden brown come thanks to a minimal addition of oil.  And there you have it, a really delicious and perfectly plain granola recipe.  Just how I like it. 

Of course, just like Ben does for his hiking snacks, you can add anything you’d like to it, from plump dried cherries to toasted pecans to leathery dried apple slices to crisp banana chips.  And that’s the beauty of a simple base recipe like this.  From here, you can go absolutely anywhere you’d like, limited only by your own (limitless) imagination. 

That said, I find it pretty difficult to waver from my own favorite combination.  Call me boring, but I won’t mind at all.  I’ll be too busy savoring my granola topped with yogurt, berries and honey!  Absolutely, positively delicious.  I urge you to try out this summertime breakfast staple of ours.  It just may end up being a staple of your own, too! 

Granola Makes about 7 cups This is a very simple, very plain granola recipe.  But that’s exactly why I love it.  There’s nothing fancy about it, no extra ingredients.  And so, it is very versatile.  One of my favorite ways to serve it is with a nice thick yogurt, fresh berries and a good drizzle of honey.  Makes for a wonderful breakfast any day, or even a nice summer supper every once in a while.     4 cups old-fashioned oats 1 cup sliced almonds 1/2 cup dark brown sugar, packed 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon 1/3 cup vegetable or canola oil, plus more for greasing the pan 1/4 cup honey 1 Tablespoon pure vanilla extract   Pre-heat the oven to 300°F and arrange a rack in the middle position.  Lightly grease a rimmed baking sheet with oil.    In a large mixing bowl, stir together the oats, almonds, brown sugar, salt and cinnamon.      In a small pot, combine the oil and honey.  Bring to just a simmer over medium heat.  Remove from the heat and add the vanilla.  Stir to combine, then pour the hot liquid over the oat mixture.  Stir thoroughly, to evenly coat the oat mixture with the liquid.    Spread the granola evenly over the baking sheet.  Bake until golden brown, about 30 minutes, stirring with a metal spatula two or three time during the baking process.  Cool to room temperature, then store in an air-tight container.  Will keep at room temperature for about 2 to 3 weeks.    For a real treat, serve with yogurt, fresh berries and a a good drizzle of honey.

Butter Beans with Tomatoes & Herbs

 
I know that  in the last post, I pretty much reached the absolute maximum level of enthusiasm acceptable, for that Lemon-Coconut Bundt Cake.  Had I heaped on even an ounce more praise, sang even one note more of its glory,  it would have been just way too much.  It wouldn’t have been decent, really. 

Yes, I went a little overboard.  But that’s not to say I exaggerated.  Seriously guys, it truly was that good.  (And lots of you can vouch for that.  I was so glad to hear from the many of you who’ve already tried it!  Thanks again, you guys!)  Even so, all that over-the-t0p acclaim left me in a sticky spot.  Because now, how can any future recipe I share, ever compare to that cake?

   
And so, I had to be a bit strategic this week.  With such a tough act to follow, I obviously couldn’t run with another cake.  Or for that matter, any dessert at all.  I knew I’d have to go with something humble, something overtly plain and explicitly simple.  And that’s how I arrived at beans.  Because with the lowly bean, you don’t expect too much glory in the first place, so you can’t get too disappointed when my description doesn’t live up to the high standard I inadvertently set in my last post.
 

And so, here’s what I have to say, here’s all that I have to say about these beans, these giant creamy butter beans bathed in a flavorful tomato sauce with fresh herbs and garlic-infused olive oil.  All I have to say is that they’re good.  Good because they’re 1. delicious, 2. quick and easy to throw together, 3. inexpensive, 4.  healthy, 5. pretty, and last but not least 6. great as as side to all sorts of dinners.  I think that says it all, right?

I’ve made these delicious, quick & easy, inexpensive, healthy, pretty, versatile butter beans about half a dozen times in the last couple months.  They’re stupendous alongside roast chicken, and just about anything else you happen to be in the mood for.  A couple nights ago we simply had them over crusty toast, topped with a sunny-side-up egg, and with a quick salad on the side.  (It was one of those use-up-the-leftovers nights.  We kinda love those nights!)

I really am trying to restrain myself from saying other nice things about these beans, because they surely are one of my favorite go-to recipes.  But I do have to be careful.  I don’t want to start a pattern that’s impossible to keep up with!  But just know this: No matter how short or long my praise for any given recipe, no matter how typical or grand the adjectives I choose to describe it, I will only ever post up here recipes I’m sure you will like, ones I’d love you to try, ones I adore myself, ones I truly want to share with you, my dear readers.  

Butter Beans with Tomatoes & Herbs Serves 4       2 Tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil 4 medium garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped 1 Tablespoon finely chopped fresh sage leaves 1 teaspoon finely chopped fresh thyme leaves 1 (28-oz) can diced tomatoes, with their juices 2 (15-oz) cans butter beans kosher salt & freshly ground black pepper, to taste       Heat a medium-sized sauce pot (or a large sauté pan) over medium heat for about 1 minute.  Add the olive oil and continue to heat for another 30 seconds.  Add the garlic, thyme and sage and cook, stirring constantly, until the garlic just begins to turn golden, about 1 minute.  Add the tomatoes, season with a good pinch of salt and pepper, and simmer until the juices are slightly thickened, about 10 minutes.         Add the butter beans and stir to combine.  Lower the heat and simmer gently, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes longer.  Taste, then season as needed with salt & pepper.  Serve hot.

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.