Cranberry Pecan Granola
I started making my own granola a couple of years ago. I had suspected it was a phase I would quickly outgrow as my attention turned to other novelties in the kitchen. But there was no going back. Once I experienced the yum factor of homemade granola, I was no longer satisfied with the store-bought options. The best ones are too expensive to regularly indulge in, and the affordable ones are too sweet and/or laden with preservatives. Worst of all, the ratio of goodies (nuts, berries, and seeds) to oats and unidentifiable filler is always a disappointment. Perhaps the biggest reason to make your own granola is that it’s really easy. You can have a batch in the oven in five minutes. And if ever there was a recipe to play around with, this is the one. You can use any combination of goodies you like. Blueberry Cardamom granola remains a favorite in our house. We also love pairing dried cherries with almonds. The possibilities are endless.
Granola with plain yogurt and fresh fruit is our go-to lunch around here, but when we’re feeling adventurous we sprinkle it on a salad. Try this Cranberry Pecan Granola with baby spinach, balsamic vinaigrette, crumbled Gorgonzola cheese, and crisp, slightly tart apple slices.
Cranberry Pecan Granola
Ingredients
6 cups rolled oats (not instant)
1 1/4 cups pecans, roughly chopped
1/2 cup sunflower seeds
1/3 cup flax seeds
1 cup dried unsweetened shredded coconut (optional)
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup maple syrup
1/2 cup applesauce
1 1/2 cups dried cranberries
Preparation
- Preheat oven to 350F.
- In a large bowl thoroughly combine all ingredients except for the dried cranberries.
- Spread the mixture across a large jelly roll pan or two small rimmed baking sheets.
- Bake for 30-40 minutes, stirring every 10 minutes, until light golden brown.
- Remove from oven and add cranberries.
- Let cool completely. Store in an airtight container.
Here’s another spin on homemade granola: Blueberry Coconut Cardamom Granola.
Bahamian Conch Salad
I’ve visited the Bahamas many times over the last twenty years.
Bimini.
Grand Bahama.
New Providence.
Eleuthera.
Harbour Island.
It’s hard to pinpoint what draws me back each time. Maybe it’s the promise of salvation from a bitter Chicago winter. Maybe it’s the long runs on the soft pink sand beach. Maybe it’s the people—both the exceptionally friendly ones I meet there and the loveable, irreplaceable ones I travel with. Then there’s the crystal blue water that a photograph can never quite capture, lapping gently at my sunburned toes. Maybe it’s keeping “island time” and leaving my phone, computer, and all the technology that tethers me behind. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the food, the kind of food you can only get in the islands—that slightly sweet coconut yeast bread, the conch fritters, the delicately battered and fried in a not-at-all-greasy-kind-of-way grouper fingers, or the sweet guavas dropping from the tree outside the cottage window. I can never reduce a trip down to a single person, place of interest, or meal. The real allure is the intricate fabric woven together from all the above.
A visit to The Queen Conch was one of the culinary highlights from my latest trip to Harbour Island. When you ask three locals to name the best spot for lunch, and they all suggest the same place, you go—even when that place has only one thing on the menu, and it’s something your husband has never tried.
Over the years I’ve enjoyed conch many ways: the famous fritters, on a pizza, in a sandwich, and on a salad. The conch salad served at The Queen Conch lived up to the hype–it was the best I’d ever tasted. We watched as the conch was pulled from the shell and trimmed (Check out the short video below.). A full bucket of the fresh flesh was taken inside where the conch was scrubbed to remove the “slime”, “It’s slippery as a newborn when it’s fresh like dat.” The clean conch was roughly chopped and mixed with tomatoes, onion, green pepper, and a combination of fresh-squeezed sour orange and lime juices. At last, the salad was seasoned with a bottle of golden goat pepper sauce, a Bahamian specialty that is hot, hot, hot. The woman hard at work on our salad tastes each creation as she goes—another squeeze of lime, another taste, another shake of the “hot peppah”, another taste. I’m struck by the inefficiency of a process that will be repeated an average of two hundred times a day during busy season. Nothing is measured. Nothing is weighed. But no one here is in a hurry—we’re on “island time” now.
Finally, it’s ready. The heaping bowl is slid across the counter to us where we’re eagerly waiting on our stools, plastic spoons in hand. I pause in a tiny moment of gratitude—fifteen minutes ago the conch in my bowl was comfortably nestled in a beautiful shell. I watch as Greg takes his first bite. He nods in approval while he chews and immediately dips in for another spoonful. Smiling, I take my first taste. The citrus is bright, but not too tart. The pepper tickles the back of my tongue without overpowering the delicate flavor of the conch. In other words—it’s perfect.
The Queen Conch’s Conch Salad
Ingredients
-
The freshest conch imaginable, roughly chopped
tomato, diced
onion, diced
green bell pepper, diced
fresh lime juice
fresh sour orange juice
Bahamian goat pepper sauce (hot!)
Preparation
- Combine the conch, tomato, onion, and pepper (I opted for no green pepper.) in a bowl.
- Add juices to taste.
- Season with goat pepper sauce a little at a time, tasting as you go.
- Enjoy immediately! (The conch will get a bit chewy as it sits in the sour juices–think ceviche.)
Chocolate Truffles: Have Them Your Way
These truffles have been at the top of my favorites list for years. Why?
They’re easy. 10 minutes to throw it all together. 30 minute chill. 10 minutes to spoon globs onto a tray. Another 30 minute chill. 20 minutes to roll and coat. That’s 40 minutes of active time for something that tastes better than any truffle you can buy.
They keep for months in the freezer. Guests arriving and no time to bake? Pull a few of these from the freezer, let them come to room temperature, and serve. Craving something sweet, but don’t want a tempting cake staring at you for the next four days? Pull a truffle or two from your emergency freezer stash instead.
They travel well. They make a great gift. They’re sure to impress your friends.
And they’re infinitely versatile:
| a little bit of this | a little bit of that | top coat | that something extra | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Madras | 2 teaspoons curry | toasted unsweetened coconut | ||
| Hazelnut | 1 tablespoon Frangelico | crushed hazelnuts | stick a whole hazelnut inside, toasted, skin removed | |
| Citrus | zest of 3 oranges | zest of 1 lemon | raw sugar + unsweetened cocoa | |
| Sunflower Brandy | 1 tablespoon brandy | toasted and chopped sunflower seeds | ||
| Absinthe | 2 teaspoons coarsely fennel seed | 1/2 teaspoon anise extract | unsweetened cocoa + powdered sugar + finely ground fennel seed | |
| Honey | 1/4 cup honey | toasted and chopped sunflower seeds + sea salt | ||
| Malt | 3 tablespoons Ovaltine malt powder | Ovaltine malt powder + unsweetened cocoa | ||
| Mad Mex | 2 teaspoons ancho chili powder | 1/8 teaspoon cayenne | cinnamon + unsweetened cocoa | |
| Ginger | 3 tablespoons finely chopped candied ginger | unsweetened cocoa | garnish with a bit of melted chocolate and a small piece of candied ginger | |
| Cardamom | 1/2 – 3/4 teaspoon ground cardamom | toasted unsweetened coconut | ||
| Espresso | 1 tablespoon espresso powder | 1 tablespoon Kahlua | unsweetened cocoa + powdered sugar | put a chocolate covered coffee bean inside |
Come back in a month or two. The list is growing.
Madras Curry Chocolate Truffles
Makes 24-36.
Ingredients
-
8 oz. bittersweet chocolate, cut into 1/2″ pieces or smaller (The better the chocolate, the better the truffle.)
3/4 cup heavy cream
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened and cut into small pieces
2/3 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
2 teaspoons madras curry
1/2 cup unsweetened shredded coconut, toasted
Preparation
- Warm cream in a sauce pan over low-medium heat until hot, but not boiling.
- Place butter and chocolate in a medium bowl.
- Pour hot cream over butter and chocolate. Whisk until smooth.
- Add cocoa and curry, stirring until thoroughly combined.
- Chill until firm, about 20-30 minutes.
- Drop by spoonfuls onto waxed paper. Refrigerate until chocolate is firm enough to be handled.
- Roll into balls and immediately roll in toasted coconut. note: your hands will get very sticky!
- Refrigerate or freeze until ready to serve.
- Serve at room temperature.
Okay, so I’m a bit obsessed with putting curry and coconut in my chocolate. Not convinced? Try these: Sweet Curry Chocolate Cheesecakes with Coconut and Chocolate Ganache.
Two weeks ago I was lucky enough to sit in on a three-day, online, food photography workshop hosted by creativeLIVE and led by an award-winning and gifted-beyond-words food photographer I’ve long admired—Penny De Los Santos. For three days I was glued to my computer screen drinking in every word Penny uttered, every photo she shared. I furiously took pages of notes capturing the tips and nuggets of wisdom that I felt certain would make me a better photographer. When it was over, I cried, because it was that good. “Thank you Penny,” I whispered to my dark computer screen.
I learned so much over those three days that my head was swimming with information—information that I was eager to put into practice immediately after the seminar wrapped. Penny urged her students to take photos every day to advance their craft. “I will Penny!” I had said to my computer and empty kitchen. Then something surprising happened in the wake of the seminar—my camera sat untouched for a week.
I didn’t snap a single picture.
It wasn’t for the lack of subject material. I was cooking away for a big party. Beautiful food scenes were all around me. No, it was as though all of the “Rah, rah, I can do it!” had somehow leaked out, leaving me with the gremlins in my head that said, “You’re not good enough.” With the new eyes Penny had given me in her seminar I went back and reviewed the photos I’d once been so proud of. I hated them all now—full of “hot spots”, “too tight”, “too loose.” But what really paralyzed me was the fear that my next picture—the first “post-Penny” picture–would be just as lousy as the images I’d taken before I knew better.
On Sunday, my pity party ended the way that it started—with Penny. I stopped by her blog and found her post titled “What If You Are….”
Keep trying.
Work harder.
Stay out of your head.
Ask for advice.
Ask for honesty.
Stay open.
Listen.
And no matter how bad the criticism or the word “no” feels, don’t stop believing in what you have to say photographically.
So, I say to all of you: What If you are good enough?
I read these words over and over until a beeper went off, reminding me that my favorite boozy banana bread was ready. And then I realized that I was ready to get out of my head and behind the lens again. Thank you Penny.
Boozy Cardamom Spelt Banana Bread
Ingredients
4 ounces dried plums (a.k.a prunes), chopped (Golden raisins or currants would be nice too.)
1/4 cup brandy (Dark rum or bourbon is just as tasty.)
1 3/4 cups spelt flour (AP or whole wheat will work as well.)
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom
5 tablespoons unsalted butter, softened
2/3 cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 cup mashed bananas (2 large)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 tablespoons unsweetened coconut flakes (optional)
Preparation
- Put the dried fruit and booze in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Remove from heat, cover, and let it be for an hour or so while the fruit soaks up the liquid.
- Preheat the oven to 350°F.
- Line a 9×5-inch loaf pan with parchment paper or grease it with butter. (I sometimes like making two smaller loaves–one to enjoy now and a second to stow in the freezer for unexpected guests. The smaller loaves also seem to bake more evenly.)
- Whisk together the dry ingredients and set aside.
- In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter and brown sugar. Beat in the eggs, bananas, and vanilla. Stir in the boozy fruit.
- Add the flour mixture and stir just enough to combine.
- Scrape the batter into the prepared pan(s). Sprinkle with coconut flakes if using.
- Bake for 50-60 minutes, until lightly browned on top and a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. (Adjust the baking time if you are using smaller loaf pans.)
- Cool on a rack for 20 minutes then remove it from the pan.
Here’s another whole grain quick bread you might like: Oatmeal Fig Bread.
Mushroom Bread Pudding With Spring Peas and Ham
I grew up on my Gram’s bread pudding. Soft Italian sandwich bread unevenly torn by her chubby, wrinkled hands. Custard the color of orange sherbet that she allowed me to whisk when she wasn’t feeling hurried. A few shakes of raisins from the red box with the pretty lady on it. A heavy sprinkle of cinnamon. My Gram died many years ago, but I can still recall the casual, deliberate way in which she went about preparing her bread pudding.
Gram’s pudding was perfect every time. She never consulted a recipe, counted slices of bread, or measured any of the ingredients. Like Gram, my bread puddings are made without a recipe. But the similarities end there. Maybe it’s my affinity for trying new things or simply the fact that I could never replicate Gram’s bread pudding no matter how hard I tried, but my puddings are never the same. They’re sometimes sweet, but most often savory like the one pictured here. For me bread pudding is a blank canvas woven with egg custard and bread that has passed its prime. (I start pondering the second act of a loaf as soon as the crust loses its crispiness.) It’s a perfect muse for my “use it or lose it” philosophy, which applies not only to stale bread, but to anything in the fridge that’s in danger of spoiling. (You can read more about my militant devotion to limiting food waste here at ExpendableEdibles.com.) To my canvas I might add the last lonely slices of prosciutto, leftover oven roasted cauliflower, sad looking mushrooms that wouldn’t fit on Friday night’s pizza. Our cold-weather favorite was loaded with chunks of roasted winter squash and dried sage from our garden. In the spring I turn to early peas, mushrooms, and asparagus punctuated with fresh chives and parsley. And when I’m in the mood for something sweet, I often reach for my own red box of raisins with the pretty lady on the front and fondly think of Gram.
Bread pudding is a great way to break your dependency on recipes and develop your intuition as a cook. Here are some guidelines that will help:
Bread: any kind, crusts on, crusts off, stale, toasted, pumpernickel, brioche, whole grain
Milk, half and half, cream: Use ½ cup of milk for each egg. What you use depends on how naughty you’re feeling and what you have on hand. Cream-laden custard will deliver a pudding with a consistency reminiscent of crème brûlée.
Eggs: the fresher, the better.
Add-ins: as much or as little as you like
Seasoning: fresh herbs, grated nutmeg, a sprinkle of dried thyme, lemon zest, pesto, salt
Cheese: any kind, mix it into the custard and/or sprinkle it over the top.
More Tips
- If you like a crispy top (like the one pictured above), keep the custard line slightly below the filling. Alternately, you can cover everything with custard. If you pour your prepared custard over the dish and too much of the bread and add-ins are exposed, simply whisk together another egg and a ½-cup of milk and pour it on.
- Be mindful of how salty your cheese and add-ins are. If you’re using pancetta and parmesan, you’ll likely need to add very little salt.
If you insist on following a recipe, here you go:
Mushroom Bread Pudding With Spring Peas and Ham
Ingredients
-
6-7 cups bread cubes (I used a combination of French and pumpernickel breads.)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 shallot, thinly sliced
2 Portobello mushroom caps, cut into 3/4″ pieces
4 oz. button mushrooms, quartered
3 ounces smoked ham, cut into 1/2″ cubes
1/2 cup green peas
fresh thyme leaves
7-8 eggs
4-5 cups milk
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg, freshly grated
3/4 cup Gruyère cheese, grated
2 ounces chèvre, crumbled
salt
Preparation
- Preheat oven to 350°F.
- Toast bread cubes for 10-15 minutes. You want them to be dry, but not browned.
- Lightly coat the inside of a 9×13 baking dish with olive oil or butter.
- While the bread is toasting, heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat.
- Add the shallots and mushrooms and sauté until mushrooms begin to soften.
- Remove from heat. Add the ham, peas, thyme, and bread cubes and spoon into the prepared dish. Sprinkle the crumbled chèvre on top.
- Whisk together eggs, milk, nutmeg, a pinch of salt, and 1/2 cup of grated Gruyère. Pour the custard over the bread and chèvre. (Remember to hold back on the custard if you like a crunchy top on your bread pudding.) Sprinkle the top with the remaining grated cheese.
- Refrigerate the pudding for 20 minutes or longer so the bread soaks up some of the custard.
- Bake for one hour, until the top is nicely browned, and it bounces back when you poke it.
Chives are usually the first green thing to appear in our yard and garden each spring. I marvel as they bravely poke their slender stems above the frozen ground, and I’m encouraged to end my own hibernation and poke my head outside. By winter’s end I’m positively starved for something fresh and green from the garden and begin snipping away at my spring harbingers when they are only a few inches tall–sprinkling them on soups or roasted potatoes. By early May, I have a lush crop to play with and that’s when the fun begins. Handfuls of minced chives find their way into crackers, breads, and this week, my scones.
I used a small square cutter (1.5-inch) for these, but you can use whatever you have on hand, including a juice glass. Simply adjust the baking time relative to the size of your scones. These are best right out of the oven but will keep nicely for a few days. The toaster oven or a conventional oven set to 350°F will quickly crisp and revive your day old scones.
Chive and Cheddar Mini Scones
Makes about 40 mini scones.
Ingredients
-
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour (You can substitute more AP or white pastry flour.)
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons coarse sea salt, plus more for finishing
1/2 cup butter, unsalted and cubed
3/4 cup cheddar cheese, coarsely grated
1/2 cup fresh chives, finely chopped
2/3 cup plain yogurt, thinned with 1/4 cup milk or water*
2 tablespoons milk or cream
*note: You can substitute 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons of buttermilk or pourable yogurt. I used Organic Valley Lowfat Pourable Yogurt for the scones pictured here.
Preparation
- Preheat the oven to 450°F.
- Line two baking sheets with parchment paper or silicon pan liners.
- Combine the dry ingredients in a large mixing bowl.
- Cut in the butter with a fork or pastry cutter until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs.
- Stir in the cheese and chives.
- Add the yogurt and stir until the mixture comes together into a dough.
- On a lightly floured board pat the dough into an 8×10-inch rectangle.
- Dip the edges of a small glass or mini biscuit cutter in flour and carefully cut out the scones. Place them 1-inch apart on the lined baking sheets.
- Gently brush the top of each scone with milk and sprinkle lightly with salt. (I love the crunch of Maldon Sea Salt on these.)
- Bake for 12-14 minutes or until lightly golden on top.
- Transfer warm scones to a wire rack to cool.
Smitten with the notion of baking seasonal scones? Bookmark this autumn recipe for Pumpkin Scones.
Hold the Mayo Jalapeño Egg Salad
Having My Way With Eggs
My husband Greg hates eggs with the exception of the scrambled versions you find in omelets or on a haggard-looking buffet dangerously close to a bottle of ketchup. Ironically, I adore eggs with the exception of the scrambled versions. Such culinary discord normally troubles me, because I believe food, good food, is best when shared.
But not when it comes to eggs.
In the case of a perfect poached egg, time is of the essence. If I’m making more than one or two, I can lose track of time and/or the gently bobbing eggs, and in an instant the runny yolk that I so love is no more. I fry my sunny side eggs in bacon grease the way my mom used to. These are somewhat less fussy than poached eggs, but they still require constant attention, watching for the last bit of clear egg white to disappear. And I insist on eating them piping hot with steam rising from the yolk as it pools on my plate, which leaves me no time to dawdle with someone else’s eggs.
Hard boiled eggs are the least fussy of the eggs I love and as such would be prime candidates for sharing, but I seldom make them. Instead, I prefer the near instant gratification of the runny yolk varieties. Once a year, at Easter, we’re gifted a small basket of hard boiled eggs lovingly decorated by our nieces and nephews. Weeks before the basket arrives, my thoughts turn to egg salad—my egg salad. I’m delighted to know it will be mine, it will be mine, all mine. (Okay, I might consider sharing my egg salad with Mick Jagger.) Sometimes, I go old school with mayo. Last year, it was hot Madras curry and sunflower seeds. This year I had a taste for Mexico.
If you have yet to find a use for the pretty Easter eggs taking up space in your fridge, give this healthy recipe a try. It’s so tasty you won’t want to share it either.
Hold the Mayo Jalapeño Egg Salad
Ingredients
6 hard boiled eggs
1 jalapeño pepper, seeded and minced
1 shallot, minced
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon Dijon mustard
1 teaspoon honey
the juice of one small lime
1/4 cup cilantro, chopped
1/4 cup plain yogurt
1/4 cup farmer’s cheese or ricotta (optional)
Preparation
- Place the eggs in a medium-sized bowl. Break them into chunks with a fork.
- Add remaining ingredients and stir to combine.
- Spread on toast, fill a pita, or spoon directly into your mouth and enjoy.
Looking for more tasty treats to slather on your toast? Try Smoked Mackerel Mousseline or Baked Ricotta with Sundried Tomatoes.
Stuffed Dates With Citrus Chèvre and Candied Fennel Almonds
When I was a kid, I hated dates. Maybe hate is a strong word best reserved for the likes of onions and liver, both of which initiated my gag reflex when they hit my adolescent tongue. (And both of which I now enjoy in adulthood.) My feeling about dates was more that I didn’t feel anything about them. Growing up in a small Pennsylvania town in the 80s meant that my dates were chopped and compressed into an unappetizing, crystallized block that offered no hint as to what it had been in its former life. At Christmas mom would roll the sickeningly sweet sticky goo with graham cracker crumbs and powdered sugar and pass it off as a no-bake cookie. It was always the last cookie left on the plate passed up in favor of delicate cream-filled lady locks and thumbprints laden with homemade jam.
Twenty years later, I was standing in a Middle Eastern bakery in Chicago with a pack of warm pita in my hand when I saw a big, orange, hand-written sign with the word “dates” on it. The sign was taped to the front of an open cardboard box measuring two feet on each side. I might have kept on going had it not been for the line of people holding plastic bags and waiting for their turn at what was inside the box. I got in line just to see what the fuss was about. Staring back at me from inside the cavernous box were amber colored objects the size of golf-balls but oblong in shape. Were these merely a different form of the dates I had experienced as a child? I lingered too long in amazement. A man stepped from behind the nearby cash register and walked over to me, “Would you like to try one miss?”
My inner child said, “no,” while my adult gastronaut said, “I’ll try anything.” The patient man tipped the box in my direction and motioned for me to pick one. “Bite carefully; there is a pit inside,” he said. His instructions sounded ominous, but it was too late to turn back. My teeth sank into the softest sweetness I had ever tasted. And so began a love affair that has thrived for nearly a decade.
I usually keep it simple, wrapping giant, velvety Medjool dates in paper-thin prosciutto or serving them on a plate with gorgonzola, toasted walnuts, and wheat crackers. The recipe below is one of my favorites, because it’s easy and flexible. You can use any nut you like. You can caramelize the nuts or simply toast them. The components can all be made ahead and assembled at the last minute. And if you’re making these blissful treats for a party, don’t expect to find one on the platter at the end of the night.
Stuffed Dates With Citrus Chèvre and Candied Fennel Almonds
Ingredients
2 oz. Chèvre (fresh goat cheese)
2 oz. mascarpone cheese*
2 teaspoons of Orange Peel Preserves (or the zest of 1 orange)
20-24 Medjool dates (approx. 12 oz.)
40-48 Candied Fennel Almonds (recipe below)
Preparation
- Combine the Chèvre, mascarpone, and orange peel preserves or zest.
- Slice the dates in half and remove the pit.
- Fill each date with a teaspoon of the cheese mixture.
- Place a candied almond in the center.
- Serve immediately. You can fill the dates with cheese ahead of time and refrigerate. The almonds will lose their crunch if you add them too soon.
note*: If you can’t find mascarpone, you can use 2 oz. cream cheese sweetened with a teaspoon of sugar.
Candied Fennel Almonds
Ingredients
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup water
½ teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground fennel or anise
½ teaspoon ground coriander
pinch of ground cloves
1 1/3 cups marcona almonds
Preparation
- Preheat oven to 450°F.
- Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Combine sugar and water in a medium sauce pan over medium-high heat.
- When the mixture comes to a boil add remaining ingredients.
- Stir occasionally until it’s reduced to a thick syrup, about 7-10 minutes.
- Remove the nuts from the pan with a slotted spoon and spread them out on the lined baking sheet.
- Bake for 5 minutes. Remove from the oven and stir. Bake for 5 more minutes.
- Remove from oven and let cool. Store in an airtight container.
Bob Vivant 