Bourbon Balls

My first foray into any kind of holiday “ball” recipe did not go as planned. Wanting to give friends and family a yummy treat, I came across a recipe that sounded wonderful. It had rum in it. What’s not to like?

The problem was, as I soon found out, that the recipe was extremely dry. In order to make any ball, you’ve got to have enough moisture to form the dough. It doesn’t matter whether you’re talking rum, bourbon, whiskey, or cognac. Pick your poison, but the end result is still the same. Not enough liquid, no ball. So, I kept adding rum. And more rum. And more rum. Those balls were enough to knock you on your ass just by smelling them.

This year, I tried the Mast Brothers’ Bourbon Balls recipe. Simple ingredients: vanilla wafers, pecans, cocoa powder, bourbon, and confectioner’s sugar for dusting. I wanted to make sure that I had enough liquid, so I zested and juiced two clementines to give it a little more sweetness and a citrus kick.

With the unsweetened cocoa, the raw flavor was dark and a little bitter. The dusting of sugar on the outside is a must to offset that nicely. These are perfect end for a dinner party or to have on hand for cocktail party munchies. The best part is they can be made ahead, so no stress when you’re working on other parts of your meal before the guests arrive.

Here’s the recipe:

4 c. vanilla wafer cookies (one box)

1 c. pecans

1 c. Confectioners’ sugar

1 TB. cocoa powder

1/2 c. bourbon

Juice and zest of 2 clemetines

Mix cookies, pecans, 3/4 c. sugar and cocoa powder in a food processor. Add bourbon and clementine juice and combine. Roll mixture into small balls. Roll in sugar to coat.

In Defense of Brine

In a pre-Thanksgiving article in the New York Times, wet brining was declared passé in favor of dry brining. But was either one really in? Isn’t it just a matter of choice based on what you think tastes best? 

Every Thanksgiving, I get a turkey from a farm in my area about 20 minutes away the day before so the bird can spend a full 24-hours in a wet solution. With enough water and ice to cover in a cooler, I add a bottle of white wine, chicken stock, a handful of bay leaves, 1/4 cup of black peppercorns,  4 large garlic cloves, an herb bundle of rosemary, thyme, and sage, a 1 cup of kosher salt and a 1/2 cup of sugar. After the brine, I rinse out the bird patting it dry. I salt it inside and out drizzling it with a heavy hand of olive oil. I stuff a halved lemon and more fresh herbs inside. With the grill on high, the bird is breast side down for a half hour in a racked roasting pan. Turning the heat down to medium and flipping over the bird breast side up, cook for another few hours depending on weight. (Our 20-pound bird usually takes about four hours.)

What we get is a tasty, moist mouthful of meat, not sawdust. Would I get that kind of juicy morsel if I dry brined with salt, butter or oil, herbs, spices? Probably.

It’s not about what you do to the bird, it’s that you do it at all. Plain meat of any kind—beef, poultry, pork—when unseasoned just doesn’t taste good. Sure, you can cook it well. But it still won’t taste right without all of that salt, fat, and acid to enhance the flavor.

Wet or dry, you are essentially marinating your meat. It’s just your choice how you’d like to do that. If the goal is a juicy turkey, this is a great way to get it.

Here’s my recipe for wet brine:

75 qt. Rubbermaid cooler, lined with a large contractor bag

1 20 lb. turkey, fresh and preferably organic

4 1 lb. bags of ice

Enough water to cover turkey

1 bottle of dry white wine

4 c. chicken stock

1 c. kosher salt

1/2 c. turbinado sugar

1/4 c. bay leaves

1/4 c. black peppercorns

6 large garlic cloves, smashed with peel removed

1 lemon, halved

Fresh sprigs of rosemary, thyme, and sage

Place turkey in cooler lined with contractor bag. Fill it with enough water that it just covers the turkey breast. Put in two bags of ice, reserving the other two to sit on top of the cooler to not only secure the lid but to keep it cool during the brine. Pour in wine, stock, salt, sugar, bay leaves, peppercorns, garlic, and herbs. Let sit for 24 hours. Then, remove the turkey from the brine and dispose of the liquid. Pat turkey dry and salt the inside. Drizzle outside with olive oil and coat with salt and pepper. Place in roasting rack breast side down for first 30 minutes on high, lower heat to medium turning bird over, and cook for another 3- 3 1/2 hours until meat thermometer reads 160 degrees.

Bon appétit! 

Maine’s Portland is Worth the Visit

Maine’s Portland is Worth the Visit

After nearly 18 years, my friend Melissa and I finally went on a girls' weekend trip away. Both of us avid foodies, a visit to the trendy hot spot of Portland, Maine was in order. Portland is home to some very cute shops. But that, of course, was not why we were here. We were on a mission to try as many yummy things as possible. This quaint fishing village turned restaurant mecca has just about any dish you may desire.

Our first stop was Eventide Oyster Co. on Middle Street. Wood floors, huge windows letting in oodles of natural light, and a raw fish bar with an ice layer the size of a small city. There were a gazillion different kinds of oysters both near and slightly far away, including close to home in North Haven, Conn. Slivers of radish and a ginger scallion drizzle made the tuna crudo a nice accompaniment to the oysters. An Austrian sparkling rose added a lovely touch.

On our way to Duckfat further down Middle, we stopped off for an aperitif at East Ender—one Italian and the other French. Cocchi was a the Italian quinine-based liqueur and Bonal was the French wildflower-infused wine. Both were a little sweet and a little bitter doing a nice job of getting our appetites going. 

Appetite is exactly what is required for Duckfat. Everything is made with duck fat, hence the name. Not so much a cute moniker as it is pure honesty. We had French fries with gravy and cheese curds, or what Canadians affectionately call poutine. It’s an odd combination, but some weird reason it works. The potato cries out for the luscious brown gravy while the cheese makes it gooey. Next, a beautiful bowl of roasted Brussels sprouts, lardon, and pickled apple. Sprouts and bacon is always a good pairing. The apple added a little tart and a little sweet to the dish. See, the veg that balances out the fries. The calories don’t even count. 

After a mind-bendingly fattening snack, it was time for another drink. Vena’s Fizz House on Fore Street did not disappoint. Both Melissa and I opted for tequila- and mezcal-based drinks. But for those that appreciate vodka, gin, or rum, there’s plenty to choose from. Melissa had the Spaghetti Western with Mezcal, Campari, lime, grapefruit liqueur, ginger, and Bitter Tyrone. I had the Sweet Heat with tequila, jalapeno, lime juice, and bitters. Vena’s bar area is behind a little shop front with all the fixings for making your own great cocktail. Shakers, glasses, stirrers, jiggers, and every liquid bitter you could possibly find. 

Stopping for a flight at Sebago Brewing Co. a little past Vena’s, we each had four little beers. They’ve got a range of different styles of IPAs, stouts, session ales, and even a barley wine. The beers were fine. A nice frosty one on a hot day would certainly hit the spot. But, I would say they were unexceptional. With thousands of craft beers in the U.S., I’ve had better.

With that many drinks in our bellies, it was time for another snack. On Congress Street, we ducked into Emilitsa. A sweet, little Greek restaurant with as much souvlaki, spanakopita, and moussaka to quell your craving for the Mediterranean. We chose a quick dish of three dips and pita all washed down with a Macedonian wine. The wine was ruby red and velvety smooth. The dips were thicker than I would have imagined. The tzatziki was whipped with cucumber, dill, and yogurt with a touch of garlic and lemon. The htipiti was a mixture red pepper and feta with a swirl of olive oil. In the melitzanosalata—eggplant, tomatoes, and herbs brought together with olive oil—was a nice foil to the other two. It was honestly the perfect end to a lovely evening.

The next day, we started bright and relatively late with a quick coffee at Bard and brunch at Petite Jacqueline on Market Street. If you are looking for a true French bistro, this is it. Adorable little marble topped tables with grand windows and frilly chandeliers give the place just the right ooh-la-la. And the menu? I had a hard time choosing what to eat. We settled for mimosas to start followed by two phenomenal crepe dishes—duck confit and smoked salmon with capers. I could easily have chosen the Lyonnaise, a frisée salad with lardon and a poached egg. That happens to be my absolute favorite. Add a crisp Sancerre and that’s all you need for a perfect lunch. But wait, there’s more. Why not try the quiche Lorraine, croque Madame, or steak frites? The menu was a joy to read—and probably a joy to eat if I could fit that much in my belly all at once.  

Moving on to Shipyard Brewing Co., we snagged another flight. They have an adorable system of providing the flight tray with chalk for you to hand-pick which beers you’d like to try. And because they’ve got an ungodly amount of beers to choose from, your best bet is to put down the number of the beer. Writing the name in a tiny space? Waste of time. These beers were definitely better than Sebago, in my opinion. They had a little more balance of hops and malt and a crisper taste. But then again, beer is beer in a lot of ways. You can only manipulate hops, barley, malt and yeast just so much.

After our burp-y beer, we were in need of a walk. Melissa and I took a stroll to the East End Promenade, which is a park area by Casco Bay. Just our luck, the clouds rolled in as we attempted to take a photo of the sweeping shoreline. I hopped down the hill a little closer to the water and got a few good pics. But still, the view was a little narrow.

The fog gave in to a pouring rain later on, which led us to a great little place I would happily return to any time. Lolita Vinoteca + Asador has an actual fire-burning oven in which they roast their chickens slowly and purposefully. With a glass of bubbly in hand, we asked for a cheese and charcuterie plate. When asked what we’d like, “surprise us!” was the answer. And oh, they did. Fennel salami with whole grain mustard, cornichons, and hunks of sourdough bread complemented the Weybridge and Dorset cheeses. A drizzle of local honey gave the plate just the right kick of sweetness necessary to nearly lick the plate. 

With a brewpub practically on every corner, it was obviously time to have another beer. We hit Oxbow Blending & Bottling on Washington Ave. I had the Space Cowboy, a French-style ale brewed with oats. Melissa had the Farmhouse Pale Ale. Both were refreshingly good. There was an incredibly long list of other beers. But of all the breweries we tried, I would say I liked this one the best. Plus, Duckfat has a little outpost outside. Wash down your poutine with a crispy ale and life is good.

Then, we visited a staple spot in Portland: Central Provisions on Fore Street. Originally, the space was a storefront to hold provisions for the East India Trading Company in the 19th century. Many iterations later, it became the hot spot it is today focused on local and organic foods, small plates, and craft cocktails. We could have had a range of delicious bites. Yet, we settled for arctic char crudo with a fig reduction and more sparkling wine. The char and the wine were great. I’m not so sure the fig worked, but I liked the idea of a sweet component to raw fish when so often it is paired with savory sauces.

Just a few doors down, Miyake was a sweet little find. Two glasses of sake—one with earthy, mushroomy notes and the other more floral and fruity. Both were really good. Pairing the sake with sashimi was obviously a lovely, light combination. Then, we tried something totally different: monkfish pâté. It seemed to be fish liver steamed then whipped and molded into a turine, given time to set, and then sliced. A lacing of a ginger soy topped it off. 

From there, we made our way to Hot Suppa on Congress Street. A high-ceilinged brick Victorian in Portland’s West End, we finished our food frenzy for the night with more oysters—two platters of them, in fact. This time we paired them with a light, crisp Provençal rosé. 

The last stop for the night was the Bearded Lady’s Jewel Box just down the street from Hot Suppa. This place was worth the visit if only because it was so off the beaten track. Formerly a speakeasy, you could easily miss this place if you sneezed. A one-room bar with lacy tulle strips hanging from the ceiling giving the feel of a music boxe that plays tinny tunes every time you open the lid. But that’s not the fun part of this place—it’s the cocktails with enough alcohol to grow chest hair. Drinks containing bitters and distilled liqueurs are offset by brown sugar, honey, fruits, and herbs. My drink had a base of cynar (pronounced chee-nar), which is an Italian distilled spirit made from artichokes. It sounds as medicinal and bitter as it tasted. However, the sweetness of orange balanced it out...a little.

Heading out the next day, we needed a good breakfast. We tried stopping off at Dutch’s, but the line was out the door. Strolling along a little further on Cumberland Ave, we came across a little German place called Schulte & Herr. Small space, but very quaint. The menu detailed a platter of meats and cheeses, cucumber dill salad in vinaigrette, spaetzle, schnitzel, potato pancakes. The list goes on. This was as authentic as it gets. In fact, the owner closes shop a couple of times a year to visit family in Germany. If you’re ever craving Octoberfest, this would be the spot for you.

We hit as many places as possible in the short time we were there. Yet, there are still so many we missed. Clearly, we need to visit again soon and I really hope we do.

Ciabatta

This is the Italian answer to a French baguette. In fact, ciabattas were made in the Veneto region of Italy as a reaction to the popularity of the sleek French loaf. A little over thirty years old, the ciabatta, or “slipper” in Italian, has a crunchy outside with a light, chewy inside with enough holes to rival Swiss cheese. 

Many recipes require stages of kneading the dough and letting it rest. Part of what drives that is how wet the dough is at first. Eventually, the loaf becomes a floured boule you roll out onto a floured surface. The resting period can be anywhere from a few hours to overnight. The longer the better, obviously. But if you don’t have that much time, you can make this recipe in the better half of an afternoon. 

And, don’t skip the liberal coating of olive oil. It makes a huge difference in the dough. Some recipes call for vegetable oil. But, please. This is Italian bread. Of course, you use olive oil.

Some areas of Italy will coat the loaf with sea salt and others, like in Rome, coat it with a dusting of thyme, oregano, or marjoram. Some even stuff the breads with salamis and cheeses. But to me, that depletes the joy of this simple bread. I think it is best enjoyed still warm from the oven and dipped into a little olive oil with a pinch of sea salt and red pepper flakes.

Here’s the recipe:

1 ½ teaspoons active dry yeast

1/4 c. hot-to-the-touch water (about 100 to 110 degrees)

2 teaspoons kosher salt

16 ounces unbleached bread flour

2/3 c. ounces room-temperature water

Olive oil (for coating the bowls)

Cornmeal (for sprinkling on the baking stone)

Sprinkle the yeast on top of the hot water to let it dissolve and set aside. Then, sprinkle the salt on top of the flour and stir to incorporate. Make a well in the center of the flour/salt mixture and add the cool water little by little. Lightly mix together. After the yeast has dissolved into the warm water, add it to the mixture and stir to fully incorporate. Let the mixture sit for 30 minutes. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap. 

Here comes the folding and the resting:

After 30 minutes, sprinkle flour on your work surface, then scrape the dough out onto it. Tap your hands in a little flour, then gently flatten the dough into a rectangle, with the short side facing you. Fold the top edge down to just below the center, then flip the bottom side up above the center. Do the same with each side, then turn dough over and dust off the flour. Place the folded dough in a bowl slicked with olive oil and let it sit for another 30 minutes covered with plastic wrap.

After 30 minutes are up, fold the dough again, using the same method as above. Place the dough in a second oiled bowl, covered with plastic, and let it ferment until it has doubled in volume, 1 to 2 hours.

After the dough has doubled in volume, sprinkle a little more flour onto your workspace. Use the same folding method as before. Cover with oiled plastic wrap and let it rise for another 30 minutes.

As the dough is rising, preheat the oven to 475 degrees, and put a baking stone on the middle rack, and an empty pan (for water) on the bottom rack. Sprinkle more flour on the counter and use the same folding method again. Separate the dough into two pieces and form logs. 

Sprinkle a mixture of cornmeal and flour on the baking stone. Scoot the ciabatta pieces off the sheet tray and onto the stone. Pour water into the pan on the bottom rack in order to make steam; you can also spritz the loaves with water. There will be a lot of sizzling, so be careful not to get your face too close.

Bake to a deep brown in approximately 30 minutes. Let the bread cool before cutting into it.

Tabbouleh

Like hummus, pita, falafel, and baba ghanoush, tabbouleh is another Middle Eastern dish that has been embraced by westerners. Typical of places like Syria and Lebanon, it is usually made with cracked or bulghur wheat. Cous cous is often substituted. But the base is a grain that acts as a canvas for the vegetables and herbs added to it.

Originally served as a mezze, or the Arabic version of tapas, it is often used as a side dish accompanying the rest of a meal or as a main dish with an added side salad here in the U.S. Herbs like parsley and mint are frequently included as well as cucumbers and tomatoes. Adding chick peas and feta makes it a bit more of a meal than just a side dish. 

The vinaigrette is a lemon juice-olive oil mix. This is the kind of oil and acid combination that can be used on a host of different salads and offers a fantastic base for other dressings. Add a little Dijon, red pepper flakes, cumin, and chopped oregano and you’ve got yourself a nice marinade for just about anything.

In this recipe, I added the chick peas and the feta. I think the chick peas are a little more essential than the feta if you want this to be a heartier part of your meal. But if it’s just a side dish, you can leave both beans and cheese out.

Here’s the recipe:

1 c. bulghur wheat

1 1/2 c. boiling water

1/4 c. lemon juice (about 2 lemons)

1/4 c. extra virgin olive oil

3 1/2 tsp kosher salt

1 c. minced scallions

1 c. mint leaves, chopped

1 c. parsley, chopped

1 c. cucumber, seeded and diced

2 c. cherry tomatoes, halved

1 c. canned chick peas, drained

1 tsp. black pepper

1 c. feta (optional)

Place the bulghur in a large bowl, pour in the boiling water and add the lemon juice, olive oil, and salt. Stir and let stand for 1 hour until room temperature.

Add the scallions, mint, parsley, cucumber, tomatoes, and the ground black pepper. Mix well. Can be served immediately or covered and refrigerated.

Biscotti

If ever there was a treat so evocative of Italy, it's biscotti. Biscotti actually means twice-baked from the Old Latin (“bis” means twice and “cotto” means baked). These little darlings are crisp with just a tiny bit of chew to avoid breaking your teeth. Often dunked in coffee, espresso, or even liqueurs like Amaretto, grappa, or Vin Santo, they are great to have on hand because they keep well. 

While biscotti are typically almond based, there is a long list of other ingredients that can go into the cookie base. Any form of chocolate—chip, chunk, dark, milk, white—is a pretty frequent sighting. Besides almonds, other nuts like pine nuts, pistachios, walnuts, and hazelnuts are pretty common as well. Dried fruits like cranberries, apricots, or even dates are often included. Citrus zest. Shredded coconut. Really, the sky’s the limit for these little guys.

The base batter is made with four fundamental ingredients: flour, sugar, eggs, and butter or oil. The wetter the added ingredients, the softer the cookie. There are some who claim that only a truly crisp, dry cookie is a traditional biscotto (singular for biscotti). But then, there are those that prefer just a little give. Too dry and you really could require immediate dental work. Too soft, and it’s not really a biscotto—just a cookie. You’ve got to walk a fine line and I think it’s all in the second baking that makes a difference.

Here's the recipe I like:

3 1/4 c. flour

1 c. white sugar

3 eggs

1/2 c. vegetable oil

1 TB baking powder

A few drops of almond extract, optional

1/2 c. dark chocolate chips, melted

Preheat oven to 375 degrees. Line baking sheet with parchment.

In a mixing bowl, combine all the wet ingredients together. In a separate bowl, sift in the dry. Gradually add the dry ingredients to the wet. (If you wanted to add extra ingredients like chocolate chips or nuts, this is a good time to do so.) Once the dough is blended, fold out onto a floured cutting board and roll into a log form. Divide into two pieces. Press down so that dough is about a 1/2 inch in thickness.

Bake the two logs for 25 to 30 minutes. Let cool on a rack. When suitable to handle, cut into 1/2-inch slices. Place back on parchment baking sheet, cut side up. Bake for another 6-10 minutes until lightly toasted. Let cool again on a wire rack. 

In the meantime, set a sauce pan with water to boil on medium-low heat. In a metal bowl sitting on top of the pan, place the chocolate chips. Stir until fully melted. Let the chocolate cool just a little bit. Then, with a fork, drizzle the melted chocolate over the top of the biscotti and let it set.

Buonissimo!

Impressions of Sydney

Australia as a family vacation has been a long time in coming. We’ve talked about it for years, always hanging out there in the distance as a bulleted entry on a bucket list. But with a few thousand frequent flyer miles, we managed to make the long slog Down Under this summer.

What struck me most was how Australia seems to be as much of an amalgamation of its influences as the U.S. is. Colonized generally within the same time frame, many of the buildings in Sydney’s center had that Victorian era-Industrial Revolution brick look. The attitude seemed more low-key, more American. But yet, there was a definite European feel—open air farmer’s markets, fresh flower kiosks, butchers, fishmongers, cheese boutiques and wine shops. Then, there was an undoubtedly Asian flair. Sydney, like so many major metropolitan areas, is home to a phenomenal Chinatown and Thai town. The best meals you’ll probably have will be Asian or Asian-fusion. And because it’s a port city, there’s a big emphasis on fresh seafood. 

Sipping shiraz or soft whites made from a mix of chardonnay and Semillon made for a lovely glass of wine. From the Hunter and Yarra valleys within a few hours’ drive of Sydney, the wines of Australia may be New World. But like the wines from Old World countries, they exhibit distinct terroir. While many reds broke onto the world stage as fruit bombs, Australia has learned to temper their flavor and balance it out a little more. No longer a jammy assault on the senses, there was nuance instead. Reds had backbone and just a little astringency. Whites were surprisingly round, full, and supple without being overpowering. It's a shame that too many wine shops here in the States sell Australia’s fruit bombs rather than offer some of the better wines you can find there.

While a 20-hour flight time is daunting, I would love to go back. What will it be this time—Melbourne? Adelaide? Brisbane? Only time will tell….

Crêpes

In my hometown, there is a little French guy in a little yellow food truck that parks by the library around noon every weekday. He sells his crêpes, both savory and sweet. Fresh seasonal produce graces the savory while you are sure to see all manner of fruit with, mais bien sur, Nutella.

Crêpes are really just a very thin pancakes that have been around for hundreds of years. Most often associated with France, iterations of them can be found from England and Norway to Greece and beyond. They are most often served with powdered sugar, strawberry preserves, or even maple syrup. They can be made with different types of flour, like buckwheat. Or if you like, cocoa can be added to the batter to make chocolate crêpes. 

And now, Disney is getting into the act. Adding a Ratatouille-themed ride in the France section of Epcot, there will now be a crêpe stand outside the pathway to the entrance. It is set to have a “build-your-own” format. Want it with mushrooms and cheese? Sure, no problem. Like it with whipped cream and chocolate chips? Sky’s the limit.

Here’s a recipe to make your own:

1/2 c. all-purpose flour

1/2 c. milk

1/4 c. lukewarm water

2 large eggs

2 TB unsalted butter, melted

1 1/2 tsp sugar

Pinch of salt

Combine all ingredients. Best to use a pitcher with a pour spout. Let mixture sit for about a half hour so the flour can absorb all the liquid. Gently pour into buttered crêpe pan on low heat, tilting pan and rotating so a thin layer coats the bottom. Cook until golden, flip over, and cook the other side. Et voilà!

Cooking for a Crowd

The trick to cooking for a large group of people is to have a recipe that’s as quick and easy to make as it is crowd-pleasing. Lasagna. Chili. Macaroni and cheese. A spiraled ham. These are often the go-to dishes, and for good reason.

Funny, every time I even consider a ham I think of my dad. We lived in an area where the power would go out if the wind blew a little. So, he would always pose the question when a storm was in the forecast, “Should I get a ham?!?” He could cook it up and leave it in the pot for a few days because it was still good. Who needs refrigeration when you’ve got a ham?

Recently, I was tasked with cooking for our local soup kitchen. About 50 to 75 people stop by for meals on Tuesdays, so I needed something not only filling but on the healthy side. Fruit and salad are always good side dishes, but you can count on leftovers. 

For the entrée, I always like to make pasta with a hearty meat sauce. The pasta should be elbows, shells, or fun shapes like rotini or cavatelli. Anything that can trap the sauce is a good bet. And for this crowd, I boiled up about three pounds. The sauce is a sturdy Bolognese. Start with a mirepoix adding garlic, salt and pepper, and herbs. Sweat the veg and add the ground beef to cook through. When that’s ready, add a half cup of wine. The wine and the beef juice make a sort of gravy of its own, but make sure you reduce the liquid by half. Otherwise, it’s too soupy. Crushed tomatoes round it out. Now, simmer down. 

Here’s the recipe for the Bolognese:

1 large onion, diced

4 garlic cloves, minced

1 c. carrots, diced

1 c. celery, diced

3 lbs. ground beef

1 TB olive oil

1/2 c red wine

2-28 oz. cans of crushed tomatoes

2 tsp kosher salt

2 tsp ground black pepper

1 TB oregano

1 TB herbes de Provence

In a large pot or Dutch oven, heat the olive oil. Add the onion with the salt and pepper and sweat until fragrant. Put in the garlic for about a minute of heat and then add the carrots and celery. Cook until veg is tender. Add the beef and herbs and cook through, stirring occasionally. Now add the wine and stir. Cook the liquid down to about half and then add the crushed tomatoes. Let the mixture simmer until thickened, about 20-25 minutes. Serve with your pasta!

Lemon bars

Part cookie, part lemon custard, these little beauties are the undersung heroes of the dessert world. Often passed over for the ever-popular chocolate chip cookie, they should be more appreciated than they are. The thing is, I love lemon bars, yet I still don’t think of them as a go-to dessert. I should. They are light and gooey all at the same time—like a squishy version of a Jelly Belly jelly bean.

I’ve seen a number of different recipes with varying quantities of flour, sugar, eggs, and lemon juice. But the one thing I think is key to making really lemony lemon bars is the zest, which many recipes don’t bother to include. In fact, it’s actually the zest of citrus fruits that carries the biggest punch. The juice is really just a runner-up. Plus, the more juice you add in order to get that lemony flavor, the runnier the filling.   

Lemon bars are also a quick and easy housewarming gift. Not everyone likes chocolate desserts and some may even be allergic. Unless you’re gluten-free, these babies are a crowd pleaser. You can cut them into squares or triangles making them great finger food.

Here’s the recipe:

For the crust:

1/2 pound unsalted butter

1/2 c. granulated sugar

2 c. flour

1/8 tsp. kosher salt

For the filling:

5 large eggs, room temperature

3 c. granulated sugar

2 Tb. lemon zest (about 4 large lemons)

1 c. lemon juice

1 c. flour

Powdered sugar for dusting

Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees.

Cream the butter and sugar, pulsing together in a food processor. Gradually add the flour and salt. On a floured surface, gather dough into a ball and then press out into a 9X13 pan. Bake for 15-20 minutes. Let cool.

Whisk together eggs, sugar, zest, and juice. Gradually add flour. Pour over cooled crust and bake until set, about 30-35 minutes. Let cool on wire rack and dust with powdered sugar before serving. Can be cut into squares or triangles. 

Htipiti Spread

Pronounced “chee-tee-pee-tee,” it’s Greek and oh so delicious. Also known as “tyrokafteri,” it is a spread made with red peppers—either sweet or hot—mixed with crumbled feta. There’s no mayonnaise or sour cream in this recipe. With a vegetable base, it’s a much healthier option. 

Dip pita bread, crackers, or crudité. Use it on a sandwich as a condiment. Pair it with meats like lamb or chicken. It’s quick and easy to pull together and a nice change from the usual dips and dressings.

Here’s the recipe:

4 bell peppers 

1/4 c. + 1 TB olive oil

1/2 medium shallot

1 garlic clove, minced

3 TB red wine vinegar

1 c. crumbled feta

4 tsp. fresh thyme

Kosher salt and pepper to taste

Roast peppers. Cool and then finely chop. Whisk garlic, shallot, vinegar, and pepper. Add the feta with salt and pepper. Cover and chill. Drizzle olive oil on top before serving.

*Note: for a smoother consistency, run ingredients through a food processor. Or, if you prefer, you can leave the recipe a little chunkier depending on how you want to use it.

Pork Chops in a Creamy Mushroom Sauce

Pork. The other white meat. While that’s a true statement, it also presents the same blessings and curses of the first white meat. Just like chicken, pork can be versatile but also feel like the same old, same old when looking for dinner options. 

My go-to recipes for pork usually involve some sort of homemade Carolina barbecue sauce for a shoulder, grainy mustard sauce for a tenderloin, and stuffing it with just about anything for a thick chop. I came across a couple of different recipes with the same idea for chops that I hadn’t thought of: make a cream sauce without the cream. 

In this recipe, the creaminess comes from making a roux of butter and flour. Deglaze with chicken broth and add a teaspoon of Dijon mustard. Adding the sliced mushrooms with a little garlic rounds it out. But you could easily improvise with shallots and a little thyme, parsley, or oregano as well. 

The paprika in the recipe called for dusting it on the chop before browning it in the pan. I found it a little difficult to tell if the chop was properly seared or that was just the seasoning. So here, I call for you to use it in the sauce rather than on the meat. 

Here’s the recipe:

2 lbs. boneless pork chops

2 TB butter

1 TB olive oil

1/2 c. mushrooms, sliced

4 cloves of garlic, minced

1 tsp Dijon mustard

2 TB all-purpose flour

1 c. chicken broth

1 tsp. paprika

Salt and pepper to taste

Generously salt and pepper the chops. Place skillet over heat on medium-high and add the butter and olive oil. Once butter becomes melted and foamy, add the chops. Brown on both sides, about 4-5 minutes or less if they are not as thick a chop. Set aside. Turn heat down a little to medium. Add mushrooms and cook down. Add the garlic, paprika, and Dijon. When garlic is fragrant, add the flour and whisk into a roux. Gradually pour in the broth to make a sauce. Stir until thickened a bit by the heat and then add the pork chops to further cook. Serve immediately.

Bundt Cake

Fancy. A word that best fits the Bundt cake. It’s the kind of thing you take to someone’s house as a dessert for a dinner party, a housewarming, or frankly just to impress. Baked in its distinctively shaped pan, there is no single recipe to follow. There are lemon Bundt cakes and strawberry swirl ones. Chocolate. Devil’s food. Apple. Pineapple coconut. Marbled, even.

Oh, and don’t forget the icing. That’s the best part. The long legs of white icing made from copious amounts of powdered sugar drizzled on top gives it just the right pizzazz. Sure, you’d eat it without the icing. But, it wouldn’t look half as sexy.

Bundt cake has its history in northern Europe, particularly in the Jewish communities of Germany, Austria and Poland. But what makes it unique is the pan. Some molds are pretty straight forward while others can get pretty ornate. Either way, it’s a dessert that looks special.

While I love a good lemon Bundt cake with vanilla icing just like the next guy, I couldn’t resist making this recipe. It called for almond flour, which made it taste rich and dense yet still keeping the dough light. A slice of this felt more filling and substantial than one with only all-purpose flour. Because of its nut base, I almost felt like it was healthy. (Almost.)

Much like pound cake, Bundt cakes take well to a good alcohol soak. Rum. Cognac. Grand Marnier. Whiskey. You name it. A good boozy kick is a nice little surprise any day.

Here’s the recipe:

For the cake:

1 3/4 c. almond flour

1/2 c. all-purpose flour

1/2 tsp. kosher salt

6 oz. unsalted butter, room temperature

1 c. granulate sugar

4 large eggs, room temperature

2 TB cognac, or liquor of your choice

Simple Syrup:

1/4 c. granulated sugar

1/4 c. water

1 TB cognac

Vanilla icing:

3 TB whole milk

1 tsp. vanilla

1 1/2 c. powdered sugar, sifted

Preheat oven to 325 degrees. Grease a Bundt pan with butter and dust lightly with flour.

Whisk the two flours and salt together and set aside. Then in a separate bowl, mix butter on medium speed until creamy. Gradually add the sugar until incorporated. Add eggs one at a time mixing batter thoroughly.

Little by little, add the flour mixture with the speed mixer on medium-low. Make sure to scrape down the sides of the bowl so all of the flour is combined with the butter and sugar. Mix in the 2 TB of liquor. Pour batter into Bundt pan and tap on countertop to make sure its distributed evenly. Bake for 40-45 minutes, until a cake knife comes out clean.

While the cake bakes, combine the water and sugar in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil, stirring, until the sugar is dissolved. Remove from heat and stir in 1 TB liquor. Return to low heat and keep warm.

Once cake is ready, place on a wire rack to cool for about 10 minutes. Pour in about half of the liquor from the saucepan. Remove from pan and brush on the remaining syrup. Let cool completely for about an hour.

For the icing, whisk together milk and vanilla. In a separate bowl, place the powdered sugar and combine with the liquid until smooth.

Drizzle icing over cake and let it set, about 30 minutes. Can be served immediately or stored for up to 3 days.