For your Sunday morning cuppa joe
current weekend project {bon appetit}
a genius move for your next watermelon salad {joy the baker}
pro tip: add black pepper to your fruit desserts {epicurious}
yum {bon appetit}
so cool {youtube}
next logical step for your homemade popsicles {food 52}
i do have a giant bag of chia seeds, how did you know? {food republic}
there are four kinds of introversion, who knew? {ny mag}
Almost a year ago my boyfriend and I were visiting the fair city of Boston and true to character, the first restaurant on our to do list was known mainly for its burger. (jmCurley, if you’re interested in that kinda thing)
First, we ordered some of the tastiest whiskey cocktails we’ve ever had. Then, in lieu of a typical bread basket, what arrived to the table on the house was bacon grease popcorn. We could have stopped right there and I would have been satisfied with the entire excursion. But then in logical “we’re on vacation” YOLO fashion we went on to order an appetizer.
What showed up to our table went beyond all of my expectations. A luscious ball of burrata, surrounded by teensy toasts, prosciutto, pickled peaches, and microgreens all drizzled with a balsamic reduction. It began my head over heels love affair with burrata and introduced me to the pickling of peaches which completely blew my little mind. The burger, mind you, was also completely amazing and lived up to its reputation. But what I went on talking, thinking, and dreaming about for the next six months was that appetizer.
It became an immediate goal to figure out the secret of the pickled peaches. I imagined it might be hard, possibly involve a pressure canner or other unwieldy things that I may or may not have room for in my tiny NYC apartment or time for in my packed NYC schedule. So last year, peach season slipped right on by before I could attempt my hand at adding vinegar to sweet summer peaches and creating pickling magic.
The moment peach season arrived this summer, there was this little voice in my head poking me, tapping me on the shoulder, whispering into my ear as I stood over the peach bin at the farmers’ market. “Hey! Hey you! Don’t forget to pickle some peaches this summer!”
Turns out that it might be one the easiest things I’ve undertaken in the name of this blog. Completely easy and totally worth it. Now I just have to go get myself a big ole’ ball of burrata and re-live that appetizer from heaven experience.
Pickled Peaches
adapted from this Kinfolk recipe
Ingredients:
¾ cup white vinegar
½ cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup water
1/2 cup of maple syrup or brown sugar
3 cinnamon sticks
1 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
1 teaspoon whole cloves
1 whole vanilla bean or 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
pinch of salt
4 ripe but firm peaches, pitted, peeled and cut into eighths
Directions:
In a small saucepan, heat white vinegar, cider vinegar, water, maple syrup, cinnamon sticks, whole peppercorns, whole cloves, vanilla bean, and salt over a medium heat. Stir to combine. Bring mixture to a boil and then let simmer for about 10 minutes.
Meanwhile put prepared peaches into a heat safe container. When pickling liquid is ready, pour over the prepared peaches to cover. Let peaches and liquid sit until room temperature. Then cover and keep refrigerated.
Yield: 1 quart of pickled peaches. Will keep in refrigerator for approximately one month.
What I did not inherit from my mother:
her green thumb
What I did:
her very low tolerance for mayonnaise
My mother’s potato salad has taken on varying forms over the years, but rarely did they include mayonnaise in the description. She’s also a woman whose many recipes that she is “known” for aren’t exactly written down. She throws things in and tastes her way through her summer classics like her tabbouleh salad, her bean salad, corn & peppers, and blackberry sauce.
Her potato salad is no different and this July 4th’s variation was simply every herb she had growing in the garden and some lemon juice and oil. The other trick she had up her sleeve was this: I noticed that the potatoes were cooking on the stove for what seemed like an awfully long time. I thought she had forgotten about them but after I reminded her about them, she rather lackadaisically (IMO) got off the couch and ran them under cold water. She then chopped them up carefully and folded them into the other ingredients carefully, tasted her way through it carefully, and then threw it into the fridge to meld overnight for the party the next day. From my point of view, forgetting about the potatoes seemed now very, very on purpose.
By any other standards, she for sure overcooked her potatoes, but for the sake of the recipe, I fully believe she gets away with the lack of mayo because of this. The potatoes' mushy texture creates a creaminess you would not have otherwise. You just have to be careful with mixing it together so you don’t end up with mashed potatoes.
She’s pretty genius, my mother...which I hope I inherited from her too…
Herby Potato Salad
Ingredients:
2 pounds yukon gold potatoes
2 garlic scapes, sliced small
1 tablespoon finely chopped chives
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
1 tablespoon finely chopped dill
juice of one lemon
¼ cup olive oil
salt & pepper to taste
Directions:
In a large pot, cover the potatoes with cold water and over high heat bring to a boil. Lower to a simmer, and cook potatoes until very soft when pierced with a fork. Drain the potatoes and rinse under cold running water for a few minutes. Set aside.
Throw all your chopped herbs together in a large bowl. Cut the potatoes into 1 inch chunks and while they’re still a touch warm on the inside, toss them together very gently with the herbs, lemon juice, olive oil and seasoning. Put in fridge to chill for a few hours or overnight. Serve cold.
Like most picnic salads, potato salad is better the next day. And according to my cousin Evelyn, tossing it while warm allows for the flavors to really integrate into the potato chunks and because Evelyn’s potato salad is hella awesome, I have to believe her.
Serve 6 to 8
Cantaloupe, okra, mint, parsley, green tomatoes, heirloom tomatoes, plums, zucchini, squash blossoms, buttermilk, romaine, eggs, blueberries
Here’s where I have my annual HOLY SHIT IT’S AUGUST freakout.
You’re welcome.
Every year with this. The countdown begins. I wistfully tick off the days and with much panic buy every berry, tomato, and summer squash and attempt to figure out ways to prolong and preserve all of them.
So basically my freezer is about to get hella full and I should probably figure out how to can. Priorities!
I spent the first three weeks of sour cherry season walking right on by them. Part of it was the $12 a box price tag. The other part was that I had no clue what I would do with them, so I couldn’t justify the $12 a box price tag.
But I finally succumbed and doled out a hefty portion of my market budget for a quart or two. Coming out on the other side of it, though, I can say it was worth it. Also as the season has lingered on the price did come down a bit.
After the cherries themselves convinced me to make some compote out of them, I tasted it and was like I’m eating exactly what I love about cherry pie. Okay, I get it. I get what the big deal is. Then it was only a matter of figuring out what to put it in that wasn’t cherry pie. Because, as I’ve already embarrassingly admitted, I don’t really like pie.
I know...I know.
So first, these popsicles happened. But I was left with a good amount of compote still to use. Which was not really a problem. I could have left well enough alone and just had a half pint jar of it in my fridge for a few weeks to come -- to swipe on toast or swirl into yogurt or top ice cream with. What I did though, was swirl it into some muffin batter and then covered that with a crumble, because, it just made sense at the time.
Barely sweet gluten free batter, swirled with puckery sour cherry compote, topped with buttery sweet oat crumble was definitely a good decision. Let me know if you think so too...
Sour Cherry Oat Muffins
Adapted from this Canelle et Vanille recipe
Ingredients:
Oat Crumble:
1 cup old fashioned oats (gluten free if needed)
¼ cup coconut palm sugar (or brown sugar)
¼ cup coconut flour
pinch of salt
3 tablespoons butter
Muffins:
3 eggs
½ cup raw sugar
1 cup full fat greek or other yogurt
½ cup melted butter
1 teaspoon almond extract
1 cup brown rice flour
½ cup millet flour
2 tablespoons tapioca starch
1 tablespoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
1 cup cherry compote (recipe here)
Directions:
Heat oven to 350 degrees.
In a medium sized bowl combine oats, coconut palm sugar, coconut flour, and salt. Cut the cold butter into the crumble mix and mush together with your fingers or a pastry cutter until butter is mixed into the oat mixture well. It should clump if you press it together in your hands. Set aside.
In a large bowl, whisk together eggs, sugar, yogurt, melted butter, and extract to combine well. Add flours, tapioca starch, baking powder, and salt and whisk well to combine.
Line a muffin tin with cupcake liners. Fill each wrapper about three quarters of the way with batter. Next dollop about 1 tablespoon of cherry compote onto the batter of each muffin. Take a tooth pick or other type of skewer and artfully drag the compote throughout each muffin to create swirls.
Lastly sprinkle a little bit of oat crumble on top of each muffin.
Bake in oven for about 20 to 25 minutes until they are golden brown and a cake tester comes out clean.
Note: You might have oat crumble leftover if you don’t use it all on top of the muffins. Simply line a sheet pan with some parchment paper and spread the crumble out on it. Bake it in a 350 degree oven for about 10 to 15 minutes or until golden and toasty. Once cooled, place in an airtight container and use on yogurt or ice cream like you would a granola.
Makes 1 dozen muffins.
I want to love pie. I really, truly, desperately do want to love pie.
I appreciate pie. I appreciate pie in the sense that I know how much blood, sweat, and tears usually go into making pie. That, and they are just so pretty. I love the aesthetics of pie. The crinkled edges, the handiwork of the lattice, the snappy looking sugary top. Give me a piece of pie and I will fawn over it like it just won the county prize at the fair.
Expect me to eat that prize winning slice and I will proceed to scoop out and only eat what’s inside the pie. So what I really love is the fruit. That warm, syrupy, drippy fruit.
So when faced with a quart or two of perfectly perfect bright red sour cherries and not even one inkling need to make pie, what’s a girl to do? Of course I only bought the cherries because what kind of seasonal blogger would I be if I didn’t. I had a stare down with my quart of cherries and eventually they convinced me to just throw them into a saucepan with some sugar and almond extract, because when in doubt, make compote.
Consequently I ended up with a bunch of warm, syrupy, drippy fruit which is exactly what I like. Those saucy cherries then talked me into swirling them into a couple things, including these yogurt popsicles, but none of them pie.
Sour Cherry Almond Yogurt Popsicles
Ingredients:
Cherry compote:
1 quart sour cherries (approximately 2 pounds), pitted
⅓ cup raw sugar or other sweetener
juice of half a lemon
1 teaspoon almond extract
1 teaspoon tapioca starch (or cornstarch)
Yogurt Base:
1 cup plain greek yogurt
½ cup whole milk
2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon almond extract
Almond crust (optional):
½ cup roughly chopped sliced lightly toasted almonds
Directions:
In a 2-quart saucepan over medium to low heat, bring cherries, raw sugar, and lemon juice to a simmer. Cook for about 25 minutes until cherries have broken down and released their juices. When they’ve reached the correct consistency, stir in the almond extract. Lastly scoop about a ¼ cup of juice from pot into a small dish. Whisk the starch into this juice and once combined quickly add back to the cherry pot. Stir well to incorporate. Once the juice has thickened into a syrup, remove from heat and let cool.
Once cooled, blitz briefly in a food processor or blender until mostly but not fully pureed. A few chunks of cherry are welcomed.
While the compote is cooling, get the yogurt base ready. In a large bowl, whisk yogurt, milk, honey and almond extract until smooth. Keep chilled until compote is cooled.
To assemble pops: pour about an inch of yogurt base into each of six pop molds. Next layer in one heaping tablespoon of cherry compote into each. Finish each with another layer of yogurt base, leaving about ¼ inch at the top of each mold to accommodate for expansion. Next take a popsicle stick and artfully drag the cherry compote through the yogurt mix of each popsicle mold. You should be able to create some pretty swirl action for each pop.
Get your popsicle mold ready for the freezer by placing on covers, adding popsicle sticks, etc.
Freeze for 4 to 5 hours or until fully frozen. Run under warm water to loosen.
If desired, let the pops begin to melt just slightly, and then roll in chopped almond slices to coat. Enjoy right away or return to freezer to be enjoyed at a later time.
Note: You will have compote leftover. I promise that having left over cherry compote is not a problem. I’ve been swirling it into plain yogurt for a sweet snack. Swiped on some toast, waffles, or pancakes would be great. I have no doubt that spooning it over vanilla ice cream would be divine. This cake would welcome the addition.
Makes six 8-ounce popsicles.
For your Sunday morning cuppa joe
render your own lard like a boss {food 52}
must read (warning: it might make you cry) {splendid table}
nine cool uses for butter {rodale's organic life}
i'm always in need of farmers' market tips {food 52}
a very serious burger manifesto {lucky peach}
screen addiction is a real thing {ny times}
such a good tip for when you buy too much fruit at the farmers' market (like i do every week) {the kitchn}
great trick for seeding spicy peppers (a la slightly spicy slaw) {food 52}
The radicchio I picked up three weeks ago, and by some miracle it looked just as perfect three weeks old as it did when first I gaped over it at the farmer’s market. The manchego I got two weeks ago, when I was visiting my mother and had lofty visions of using it with strawberries in some way. The herbs were leftover, as bunches of herbs usually are, from a different salad to debut someday soon. The first of the season corn and tomatoes found their way into my bag for less mysterious reasons --- I just could not leave the farmers’ market without them, obviously.
This was a made-on-a-whim salad, a caprice salad, if you will (I just learned that word and had to use it). All its components were gathered at separate times. Nothing about this salad was planned. It actually came about because some plans fell through. And in a moment of fierce Saturday night laze we decided to order a pizza.
As a person who grew up with a salad on the side for dinner every night, I naturally wanted to balance the pizza with a big bowl of veggies. I peeked into the fridge and suddenly all these random purchases fortuitously came together in a brief wave of brilliance.
It came about much in the way a Kitchen Sink Salad comes together. You look in the fridge and go “what of these things need to get used up now, fast.” Kitchen sink salads are pretty miraculous because in a sense they shouldn’t work at all. You cross your fingers and hope it works.
But this salad, this is no Kitchen Sink Salad. It’s too composed and perfectly compatible. I firmly believe that this salad was meant to be. That I had bought all these ingredients knowing that one day weeks later I would look in the fridge and be their matchmaker.
The sweet juicy tomatoes and fresh raw corn are the perfect foil to the bitter nip of radicchio. The manchego dressing delivers a rich needed punch to a salad so virtuous. The herbs keep things seeming summer light. And as always, sunflower seeds for crunch. I feel like this would make a delightful panzanella if you’re into that kinda thing.
First of Summer Salad with Herby Manchego Dressing
Ingredients:
Dressing:
1 garlic scape, sliced small
1 tablespoon finely chopped dill
1 tablespoon finely chopped parsley
1 tablespoon finely chopped chives
½ shallot, finely minced
¼ cup shredded manchego cheese
1 teaspoon dijon mustard
¼ cup red wine vinegar
½ cup olive oil
Salad:
½ head romaine, cut in ½ inch pieces
¼ head radicchio, shredded thinly
1 cup sliced baby tomatoes
1 raw ear of corn, kernels shorn from cob
½ cup roasted sunflower seeds
Directions:
Place all dressing ingredients in a small mason jar or bowl. If using jar, put top on jar and shake vigorously to incorporate ingredients. If using bowl, whisk thoroughly until all ingredients combine. Set aside.
To assemble salad place all ingredients in a large bowl. Pour amount of dressing to your liking over top and then toss very gently to coat.
Note: You will most likely have dressing left over. It will keep in fridge in an airtight container for at least a week.
Serves 4 to 6 as a side or starter.
NYC based food blog with an emphasis on cooking whole, real foods that are in season and locally produced
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