//Evening coffee buzz with a twist

Espresso Granita with Caramel
(an adaptation of the recipe found at: http://www.gourmetsleuth.com/espressogranita.htm)

1 cup simple syrup (see below)
4 tbsp of espresso coffee that have been brewed to make 24 oz of coffee, cooled to room temperature
5 tbsp caramel sauce

For Simple Syrup:
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup water

In a small saucepan, bring 1 cup of water to a low boil. Dissolve 1/2 cup sugar in water, and then remove from heat. Cool.

For Espresso Granita:

Choose a glass, plastic or stainless 3-cup bowl with a tightly fitted lid. Make sure it is dry, snap on the lid and place in freezer. In a medium bowl, dissolve the simple syrup in the espresso and taste. It should taste too sweet. Stir and pour into the aforementioned dish. Cover and freeze about 1 to 2 hours until espresso has a very thick crust, but has not quite frozen through. Use a fork to cut through and lift the layer of coarse crystal-ice, blending it with the unfrozen core. Cover pan and return to freezer. Check hourly and when it is firm to the touch but still yields easily to a stab with the fork (due to high concentration of sugar, this may take up to 8 hours), it is ready for final chopping.

Set pan of frozen espresso on a cool surface and methodically chop the crystalline blocks into a regular flaky, granular mass. This can be tedious, but it is easy, as long as you haven't let the liquid freeze too solid. If it is rock hard, it will take more brawn to cut through chunks and you may overwork some bits as you try to split harder pebbles. Transfer granita to chilled container, snap on lid and place in freezer.

Ten to 15 minutes before serving, turn container upside down in freezer. Place 5-to 6-ounce bowls or glasses in freezer to chill. (In my case, I used fancy schmancy fluted glasses.) Drizzle some caramel sauce around the insides of the glasses, and then top the granita with a drizzle of sauce as well.

//Arugula and Fava-Bean Crostini

Arugula and Fava-Bean Crostini

1 cup shelled fava beans (or fresh edamame if favas aren't available)
1/4 cup plus 1 tbsp extra-virgin olive oil, divided, plus more for drizzling
1 1/2 cup packed baby arugula, divided
3 tbsp Pecorino Toscano or Parmigiano-Reggiano (cheese can be omitted from the initial batch and then later sprinkled on top of the individual crostini for those who can't have dairy)
1/4 tsp grated lemon zest
1/2 tsp lemon juice
1 baguette
1 garlic clove, halved crosswise
16 mint leaves

For Spread:

Preheat oven to 350° F with rack in the middle. Cook fava beans over boiling water, uncovered, 3-4 minutes, then drain in an ice bath to stop cooking. Gently peel of skins (if using edamame, don't peel off skins).

Pulse fava beans in your food processor until coarsely chopped, then transfer half of the mixture to a very large bowl. Add 1/4 cup olive oil, 1/2 cup arugula, cheese, lemon zest and juice, and 1/2 salt and 1/8 tsp pepper to favas in processor and puree until smooth. Add to bowl. Coarsely chop remaining cup arugula and gently fold in fava bean mixture.

For Crostini:

Cut 16 diagonal slices from baguette and put in a 4-sided sheet pan. Drizzle with remaining tbsp olive oil. Bake until pale golden and crisp, about 8 to 10 minutes. Rub with cut side of garlic.

To Assemble:

Spoon fava bean mixture onto baguette toasts, then drizzle with oil and top with mint.

//Sometimes Father Knows Best

It was on my 21st birthday that my dad gave me a copper saute pan. The cooking equipment I owned at that point in my life was a pitiful assortment of whatever cheap-o knives, pots, pans, and dishes could be harvested out of the clearance bin at TJ Maxx, plus the hand-me-downs my parents dutifully offloaded on me before I left for college. The possessions ended up being more for show and less for actual use, by which I mean: to show I could/would make a good faith effort at some sort of culinary feat other than adding packages of pre-fried noodles to boiling cups of water. I think I spent more on Windex during college to keep the dust off the pots and pans than on actual food to go in them. I mean, I fancied the idea of being able to cook all the time, much like I fancied the idea of not having to get up at 6:30 every Monday, Wednesday and Friday to attend my statistics class. But in both of these cases, in was the omnipresent tension that came from needing to finish undergrad, and, oh yeah, get into graduate school immediately thereafter, that kept me from acquiring domestic skills or forgoing sleep deprivation.

From my perspective, receiving an expensive piece of gourmet cookware seemed like my dad was gently trying to nudge me toward domesticity, a path I wasn't ready to go down yet. I didn't see how this pot would fit into my life, nor how it could be of any use to me. Gifts I'd use on a daily basis (e.g., clothing and shoes) were what I needed! Not kitchen equipment that was only going to sit around and therefore add to my list of things to dust! Dad wouldn't budge and get me shoes.

The entry of this saute pan into my life opened the kitchen store retail door to future cooking-related gifts. In the years following my dad would give me a cast iron tea kettle, kitchen sheers that all but sheered the skin of my very clumsy fingers, a wok big enough to stir-fry a turducken, Oneida china, baking pans, a food processor... etc. With every gift, I'd kindly ask him "Why?" This question came from a place of guilt, the guilt I felt because I knew it'd be a long time before I'd ever — if I ever — got to use my increasingly impressive array of gadgetry, doodads and pans. I just felt bad, is all. Each time Dad would reply with "Cooking brings people together. You're gonna be cooking full meals soon enough, and they're going to require everything you've acquired. You'll be glad you didn't have to go out and buy these things on your own. Trust me on this." Uh huh. Right, dad.

I was wrong. He was right.

It started slowly, with my "accidentally" discovering Muffin Day toward the latter half of senior year of college. Then on occasion a friend would ask for an appetizer or dessert to be brought to a group game night. A surprise birthday party or two, and a whole party thrown in honor of the salty-fatty-sumptuousness that is bacon later, and I was out of graduate school and had nothing but free time on my hands and a kitchen cabinet full of "stuff." Not being in school any longer also offered me some mental space to realize that I really enjoyed chef's artistry a whole lot more than I had previously thought. So much more than I was willing to put psychology on the back burner for a little while and take a deeper look at cooking. Now I'm doing as my dad said I would: using food to bring people together by whipping up whole meals... on Sunday evenings.

Since Father's Day is this coming weekend, I'm going to take the time to say thanks to my dad for (knowingly? unknowingly?) setting up the ideal kind of environment for me so I could thrive doing something I love.

The following smoked salmon recipe was featured as a first course opener at last night's dinner. It's simplicity need not be mistaken for blandness: the combination of savory salmon with very succulent melon, topped off with honey and palette refreshing mint, is meant to wake up the taste buds at the end of the day and prepare them for the food that is to follow.

Second Wind Salmon

8 oz of smoke salmon, preferably Sockeye
1 whole Casaba melon (or Crenshaw, or whatever variety is in season), about 3 lbs.
5 tsp honey
5 mint leaves

Before serving: Put individual serving plates in you refrigerator to chill.

Remove the smoked salmon from its package and separate each of the slices. Using a sharp knife, cut the melon in half and remove the pulp and seeds. Using a melon baller, scoop out as many melon balls as you can get from the fruit without breaking through its skin. (For a 3 lb melon, I got about 35 balls using the large side of the scoop.) Arrange the melon on each individual serving plate, and top 3-4 slices of salmon. Drizzle honey over the top of the fish and adorn with a mint leave. This is a dish best served cold.

//Slicing through the silence

Saturday evening saw me attending a graduation party out in Beaverton, Oregon (about a 15 minute drive west of metropolitan Portland). It was a drizzly evening, so at the last minute an event tent had to be thrown up to protect the fabulous spread of food served at the party.

Despite having visited Portland over a half dozen times prior to the move, I'm still relatively new to the area and don't know that many people. Of the 30-ish guests at Saturday's event, I knew 3 — 10%, which isn't bad by any means, but those aforementioned 3 were my boyfriend, the party's host and her husband. I figured that bringing a cake to the party would serve as a natural ice breaker and ease me into socializing with a large group of strangers. My guess that a cake could act as a conduit for connecting was correct; however, because it was raining, many of the attendees opted to stay inside, which meant they didn't get a chance to slice into the velvety four layer cake that I'd brought! Oh well. But the cake did help me meet a modest amount of new people, so I still consider it a success. (It also meant that I got leftovers. No complaining here.)

Four Layer Cake with White Chocolate Buttercream and Plum-Apricot Filling

For Cake:
8 oz white chocolate, chopped
2 1/4 cups all purpose flour
2 1/4 tsps baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
10 tbsp unsalted butter, room temperature
1 1/3 cups sugar
4 large eggs
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1 1/4 cups whole milk

For Buttercream:
1 1/4 lbs white chocolate, chopped
1 3/4 cups plus 2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
2 tsps vanilla extract
2 cups powdered sugar, sifted

For Assembly:
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup sugar
1 lb apricots, pitted and thinly sliced
1 lb plums, pitted and thinly sliced
1 cup walnuts, finely chopped
1/4 cup apricot preserves, melted



For Cake:
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter and flour two 9-inch round cake pans with 2-inch-high sides. Butter two 9-inch parchment paper rounds and place in pans, buttered side up. Stir white chocolate in top of double boiler set over barely simmering water until melted and smooth. Leave white chocolate in pot; turn off heat. Sift flour, baking powder, and salt into medium bowl. Using electric mixer, beat butter and sugar in large bowl until well blended. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating well after each addition. Beat in vanilla. Add dry ingredients alternately with milk in 3 additions, blending well after each addition. Add warm white chocolate and beat just until blended.

Divide batter equally between pans, smoothing tops with spatula. Bake cakes until tester inserted into centers comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Cool cakes in pans on racks 20 minutes (cakes will fall). Run small sharp knife around cake pan sides. Turn cakes out onto cardboard round or tart pan bottom; peel off parchment. Turn cakes right side up onto racks and cool completely.

For Buttercream:
Stir white chocolate in top of double boiler over barely simmering water until melted and smooth. Remove white chocolate from over water. Let stand until cool but not set, about 20 minutes. Using electric mixer, beat butter in large bowl until fluffy. Beat in white chocolate and vanilla, scraping down sides of bowl occasionally. Beat in powdered sugar. Cover and refrigerate until thick enough to spread, about 45 minutes (frosting will be very soft).

For Assembly:
Boil 1/2 cup water and sugar in small saucepan over medium heat, stirring to dissolve sugar. Cool syrup.

Using serrated knife, cut each cake layer horizontally in half. Place 1 layer, cut side up, on 9-inch cardboard cake round or removable bottom of 9-inch tart pan and brush with 2 tablespoons sugar syrup. Spread 6 tablespoons buttercream over cake. Cover buttercream with single layer of sliced apricots. Spread 3 tablespoons buttercream over apricots; top with second cake layer, cut side up. Brush with 2 tablespoons sugar syrup, 6 tablespoons buttercream, plums, and 3 tablespoons buttercream. Top with third cake layer, cut side up. Brush with 2 tablespoons syrup. Spread 6 tablespoons buttercream over cake; cover with apricots. Spread 3 tablespoons buttercream over apricots. Top with fourth layer, cut side down. Spread 1 cup buttercream over top and sides of cake (layer will be thin). Chill 1 hour. Spread remaining buttercream over top and sides of cake. Press chopped walnuts onto sides of cake. Cover top with remaining sliced apricots and plums. Brush sliced fruit with apricot preserves. Chill cake 1 hour. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover with cake dome and keep chilled. Let stand 3 hours at room temperature before serving.)

//Pretty Perfect Palette Pleasing Paella

Summer Spanish Paella

1 lb slender asparagus, trimmed, cut into 1-inch lengths
5 cups (about) low-salt chicken broth, divided
1 lb uncooked large shrimp, peeled, deveined, tails left intact, shells reserved
3/4 cup dry white wine
1/2 tsp crumbled saffron threads
1/4 cup olive oil
2 chorizo sausage links (6 ounces), casings removed
2 1/2 cups chopped onions
3 large garlic cloves, finely chopped
1 large tomato (12 to 13 ounces), halved, seeded, cut into 3/4-inch cubes
1/3 cup roasted red peppers (either canned, or made at home)
2 tsp Spanish or hot Hungarian paprika
1 tsp salt
2 1/2 cups Spanish Bomba rice, Italian arborio rice, or medium-grain white rice (about 17 ounces)
18 small littleneck clams (about 1 1/4 pounds), scrubbed
24 mussels, scrubbed, debearded
5 ounces sugar snap peas, trimmed
Lemon wedges

Cook asparagus in large saucepan of boiling salted water until crisp-tender, about 2 minutes. Drain, rinse under cold water, and drain again.

Bring 4 1/2 cups broth to simmer in medium saucepan over medium heat. Add reserved shrimp shells; simmer 10 minutes. Bring wine to simmer in small saucepan over medium heat; add saffron and set aside 5 minutes to steep. Strain saffron-infused wine into 8-cup measuring cup. Strain in shrimp broth. Add enough chicken broth to measure 5 cups broth mixture.

Heat oil in large wide pot or paella pan (at least 3 inches deep) over medium-high heat. Add chorizo and sauté until lightly browned, breaking into 1/2-inch pieces with side of spoon, about 5 minutes. Add onions. Reduce heat to medium and sauté until onions are slightly soft, about 5 minutes. Add garlic and stir 2 minutes. Add tomato and peppers. Sauté until tomato is soft and juices evaporate, about 3 minutes. Mix in paprika and salt, then rice. (Asparagus, broth mixture, and rice mixture can be prepared 2 hours ahead. Let each stand at room temperature.)

Preheat oven to 350°F. Add broth mixture to rice mixture and bring to boil over high heat, stirring frequently. Reduce heat to low and simmer 2 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove pot or paella pan from heat. Scatter shrimp over. Tuck clams and mussels into rice mixture, hinged side down. Place pot or paella pan in oven and bake paella, uncovered, 15 minutes. Sprinkle peas and asparagus over. Continue to bake until broth is absorbed, rice is tender, and clams and mussels open, about 5 minutes longer. Cover with foil once you've removed it from the oven; let stand 5 minutes.

Transfer paella to large shallow dish. Garnish with lemon wedges and serve (hopefully to a group of at least 3 people, otherwise you'll be eating leftovers for days).

//Guess who's back?

About 2 weeks ago I went Internet-free. This wasn't entirely of my own volition. I mean, I did choose to move away from Los Angeles and my very secure high speed connection; however, I had expected to be wired but quick once I landed at the intended destination (a.k.a. My New Home) on June 1st. I was wrong. =( These interim Dark Days of No Net afforded me plenty of time to think up clever-cute-cheerful ways to announce my return to the culinary blogosphere. In the end, though, the desire to merely write "Hey, I'm back!" was greater than the desire to draft some well-articulated piece. Basically, as soon as I unpacked, I wanted to resume posting.

Hey, I'm back!

More importantly, I moved! To Portland!

This journey involved multiple steps and adventures and the breaking of many fingernails, and spanned from March/April until early June.



Moving on up: Around April I made a firm decision to move from Los Angeles to Portland during the coming summer. Without getting neck high in specifics, I'll just say that I'd been wanting to move out of Los Angeles since my freshman year of college. Normally I'm pretty decent about adhering to goals, but I'll be the first to admit that I repeatedly let the ball drop on the whole move out of state thing for a number of years. After repeatedly visiting places like Boston and New York City and Northern California, I settled on Portland after my 7th visit to the city in February of 2009. Newsweek's declaration that Portland is the most depressed city in the nation be damned, I actually don't mind overcast skies: it's the sun I hate. With a burning fiery passion. With graduate school out of the way, and California's economy tanking by the day, I had very little reason not to leave.

Wherein I play the waiting game: That same month I packed up the contents of my 2 bedroom house in Burbank, gave away most of my furniture except for the bare necessities (e.g., bed, and favoritest of all bookcases), and oh so carefully transported my remaining effects plus 5 boxes of kitchen equipment to my mother's house near LAX. With everything carefully stored in the garage, I then spent the next several weeks in house limbo, residing at either my mother's or my brother's respective residences.



A wild card is thrown my way: On April 30th I ended up joining my boss and a few co-workers down in San Diego to start work on a research study. The nature of the work meant we had to live in the city during the work week, go home on Friday afternoons, and make the trek back down south on Sunday evenings. So from the end of April until the end of May, I basically lived out of a suitcase.



The Big Day arrives: Finally! The real moving day! Not moving within the boundaries of Los Angeles County. Not temporarily living in another part of Southern California. Today I left California. On this Sunday I crammed a rented red Dodge Grand Caravan full of all that could fit (which included my mom, who rode shotgun) and made my way north to the Rose City. I couldn't see out the back of the van, and I dared not open any of the doors to inspect things during the pit stops we made during the 15 hour journey. Sadly, a few bowls and plates did not survive the trip (technically I have no way of knowing if they were crushed during the first move from Burbank to Los Angeles, during one of the 4 earthquakes that struck the city during the months of April and May, or if the long haul up I-5 really was responsible for their demise). Everything else was A-OK.

Now I'm in Portland. Until this past Saturday, I hadn't set foot in a kitchen other than to steal cookies from my brother's pantry on the weekends when I was home. Not being able to so much as even make a salad in my hotel room in San Diego made me all out of sorts. But those days are past; now I get to look forward to carving a culinary niche of my own in one of the most beautiful cities in the union.

Enough about me, though. Happy (Belated) Muffin Day! I chose to make a Strawberry Streusel Muffin for Wednesday because the paragon of berries lie within Oregon's borders. It's true. Really. You should come up here and pick some for yourself.



Strawberry Streusel Muffins:

For Muffins:
2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup granulated white sugar
2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp baking soda
1/4 tsp salt
1 large egg, lightly beaten
3/4 cup buttermilk
2/3 cup melted, cooled butter
1 tsp pure vanilla extract
2 cups fresh strawberries, quartered.

For Streusel Topping:
4 tbsp oats
4 tbsp flour
4 tbsp brown sugar
4 tbsp butter

Preheat oven to 375° F. Position rack in center of oven. Butter and flour one 6 jumbo muffin pan, or one 12 medium muffin tin.

In a large measuring cup or bowl whisk together the egg, buttermilk, butter, and vanilla extract.

In another large bowl combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Gently fold in the berries. With a rubber spatula fold the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and stir only until the ingredients are combined (about 15 strokes). Do not over mix the batter or tough muffins will result.

Fill each muffin cup almost full of batter, using two spoons or an ice cream scoop. In a small bowl, mix together the streusel topping oats, flour, and brown sugar. Cut in butter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Sprinkle topping over unbaked muffins. Place in the oven and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of a muffin comes out clean, about 20 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool for about 5 minutes before removing from pan.

//Erin Go Nom

A happy early Muffin Day to you! Since it's St. Patrick's Day, I figured it'd be OK for me to make the muffins a day early, provided the recipe I used complemented the theme of the feast day.

Black Bottom Guinness Muffins

For Cream Cheese Filling

* 8 ounces cream cheese, room temperature
* 1/3 cup granulated white sugar
* 1 large egg
* 1/2 tsp pure vanilla extract
* 1 tsp green food coloring



For Chocolate Muffins

* 1 1/2 cups all purpose flour
* 1 cup light brown sugar
* 1/3 cup natural unsweetened cocoa powder (not Dutch processed)
* 1/2 cup dark chocolate chunks
* 1 tsp baking soda
* 1/4 tsp salt
* 1 cup Guinness Stout
* 1/3 cup vegetable or nut oil (almond oil, walnut, or safflower oils are best)
* 1 tsp pure vanilla extract



Notes:

- For a dairy-free version, omit the cream cheese mixture and substitute 1/2 of a large marshmallow per muffin (add during the last 10 minutes of baking).

- Double up the ingredients if you want to make 24 muffins, which is what I did.

- I advise you not to bring these muffins to your child's classroom party. Although the alcohol burns off during the baking process, some parent(s) might become uppity and accuse you of promoting underage alcohol consumption.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F and lightly butter or spray with a non stick vegetable spray, 12 muffin cups.

In your food processor or electric mixer beat the cream cheese until smooth. Add the sugar, egg, food coloring, and vanilla extract and beat until creamy and smooth. Set aside while you make the Chocolate Muffin batter.

First, in a large bowl sift together the flour, sugar, cocoa powder, dark chocolate chunks, baking soda, and salt. In a separate bowl mix the Guinness, oil, vinegar, and vanilla extract. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and stir in the wet ingredients until nice and smooth. Evenly divide the batter among the 12 muffin cups. Then spoon a few tablespoons of the cream cheese filling into the center of each muffin.

Bake in the preheated oven for about 25 minutes, or until the cream cheese filling has browned a little bit and the muffins feel springy to the touch (a toothpick inserted into the chocolate part of the muffin will come out clean). Remove from oven and place on a wire rack to cool.