Happy Weekend.

I wish you a happy happy weekend. Go out in the rain. Get muddy. Or, stay warm with a baking project. Make these muffins?

I am going to try my hand at brioche. We shall see.

The blitz continues.

Oh, and could you help me get my husband out of house? He is doing portrait sessions this weekend if you are interested and in Seattle. The last of the Fall leaves make brilliant pictures!

Blitz.

First, I'd like to set the record straight.

I am not pregnant.

Thanks for the sweet inquiry.

The picture in the pumpkin patch is deceptive in that it shows a puffy jacket (too rainy for the pre-planned cute Fall sweater), which suggests a big belly. And, while I may not be the smallest girl on the block, I assure you I do not have a bun in my oven. Also, in case additional clarification is necessary, the photo shows an attempt to eat a raw pumpkin. I did not actually try to eat the raw pumpkin. Rather, I gestured in this way to hint to my husband that it was time to leave the pumpkin patch. I try to keep him up to date on my tummy so that he does not experience the wrath of my low blood sugar. This is our agreement.

On some reflection, however, I do suppose it's possible I am packing on a sort of fleshy winter coat. This might be attributed to my recent baking blitz. Have you noticed? Bread is on my mind and in my oven. Could it be the cooler weather? Could it be the new wife in me?



I think it's probably a combination of things that fuels my urge to bake. Really, the most palpable reason is my nose. You see, I'm actually a bit of a bloodhound. It's both a blessing and a curse. My mother is the same way. We can smell a gas leak a mile away.

I find it best to surround myself with good smells. A home awash in the smell of baked goods is pretty much the best thing in the world. Besides, I'm home a lot more these days (more on that later) and I have time to bake. And, while I am still a firm believer that baking is not a terribly intensive cooking project, you do have to be around to check in on the dough here or there. In fact, it's embarassing to admit, but there were several times when I was working full-time that I would not read a recipe to the end. This caused all sorts of problems particularly when I didn't read the part in the recipe about punching down the bread or the second rise that should be in a warm area and not a freezing cold house in the middle of a rainy Seattle winter. Lots of dough lost its life in my sad kitchen when I didn't have the time to pay proper attention to it.

No more bread deaths on my watch. Things are different these days. I'm working from home and can easily pop over to the kitchen to monitor dough. I'm even finding new tricks. For example, I found that placing my watery bowl of yeast on the open door of my warm oven works like a charm for getting that yeast to bubble. This was a revelation.



This week, I thew caution to the wind. Who kneads a no-knead bread when kneading a bread is the most satisfying task? The oatmeal and molasses combination is fantastic. The bread is hearty, but soft. We're eating it at all sorts of times of the day. It's good for a snack. It's great with homemade jam or a hot mess of butter.

Try it. Your home will smell like a fabulous bakery. You will find all sorts of good things can happen in a fine smelling house.

Oatmeal Molasses Bread

2 & 1/3 cup water
1 cup old fashioned rolled oats, plus extra for topping
1/2 cup unsalted butter
1/3 cup unsulfured molasses
2packages active dry yeast
5-6 cups all purpose flour
2 tsp. sea salt

In a small saucepan, bring the water to a boil. Put the oats into a heatproof bowl and pour the water over the oats. Add the butter and molasses. Let the mixture cool to warm (105 degrees- 115 degrees)

By hand, in a large bowl, dissolve the yeast in the warm oat mixture and let stand for 5 minutes. Using a wooden spoon, stir in 3 cups of the flour and the salt, mixing well. Add the remaining 2-3 cups of flour as needed to make a soft dough.

Using a plastic pastry scraper, scrape the dough out of the bowl and onto a floured work surface. Knead until it is smooth and elastic, dusting the work surface with flour to keep the dough from sticking, 5-7 minutes.

Form the dough into a ball and transfer it to a lightly oiled bowl. Cover the bowl wiht plastic wrap and let the dough rise in a warm draft free spot until it doubles in bulk, about 1 hour.

Butter 2 9x5 inch loaf pans. Punch down the dough and, using the scraper, scrape it onto a clean work surface. Cut it in half with a sharp knife. For each half, evenly flatten the dough with the heel of your hand. Roll the top third down onto itself and seal it by pushing it gently with the heel of your hand. Continue rolling and sealing the dough until you have an oval log. Place the logs, seam side down, in the prepared loaf pans. Press on them to flatten them evenly into the pans. Cover loosely with a kitchen towel and let them rise in a warm, draft free spot until they double in size, 45-60 minutes.

Position a rack in the middle of the oven. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Mist the top of the loafs with water. Sprinkle oats on top generously. Bake until they are golden brown and sound hollow when tapped on top, about 40-45 minutes. Remove from oven and pans. Let cool on rack.

Your Holiday Bread.

I would like to tell you that I eat pumpkin all year round. I should tell you about canning it and having a pumpkin pie after dinner in April or May. I know it's good for me but, unfortunately, I cannot tell you these things. It's not that I think canning pumpkin for spring meals is a bad idea. It's a great idea! I encourage you to do what I cannot. I love pumpkin, but there is something about the flavors of pumpkin especially when mixed together with nutmeg and cinnamon that (for me) is quintessentially autumnal.

Pumpkins are also harvested in the fall so this might also have something to do with this mindset. I'm really just a slave to the seasons.

However you feel about it, I highly recommend making this bread using fresh or canned pumpkin. This bread is fantastically moist due to the olive oil. It stays good for days. I had mine wrapped up with just a layer of cheap plastic wrap and was able to feast for nearly a week on this one loaf. I urged K to bring the other loaf to work because I was afraid I could not stop myself from eating it. Thankfully, he listened. He took the bread to work and, after setting it down on a table, the entire thing was gone in 60 seconds. He actually sent me an iphone photo of the crumbs. I believe this is a testament to a good bread.

The best part about this recipe is the simplicity. It could not be easier. In fact, I'm sure you have all the ingredients in your pantry right now. If you're short on pumpkin, hit the grocery store. Or, hit the pumpkin patch. You are never too old for the patch.

Yesterday, the rain stopped just long for a jaunt through the pumpkin patch at Fall City Farms. It was fantastic. Hayrides and hot apple cider. The fall colors were out and everything looked dreamy and romantic.

We found the perfect pumpkin, which I tried to eat on the spot.



K stopped me and we managed to get it home.



That pumpkin, however, is destined for greater things. It will be lighting up the porch on Halloween. So, instead, we used the canned pumpkin. Canned pumpkin, I must say, is remarkably convenient. You can whip this loaf up with a can of the good stuff in no time.

I love this bread. You can eat it with a fork or place it in a napkin and eat it standing up in front of your computer like me. It's just about perfect for Thanksgiving breakfast or afternoon tea. Give it as a gift or hoard it all for yourself. The recipe makes 3 smallish loaves or 2 biggo ones.

Enjoy.



Olive Oil Pumpkin Bread

4 large eggs, at room temperature
1 cup delicately flavored olive oil (such as Bertolli Classico)
2/3 cup water
2 cups pureed pumpkin (fresh or canned)
3 cups sugar
3 1/3 cups sifted all purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 cup dried cranberries (optional)
1/2 cup coarsely chopped pecans

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease three 1 lb. loaf pans (8.5-by-4.25-by-2.75 inches) with olive oil or spray with cooking spray (or bake in batches).

In a large mixing bowl, lightly beat the eggs. Add the olive oil, water, pumpkin purée, and sugar and whisk with a fork to combine thoroughly. Sift some flour into a small bowl. Measure out 3 1/3 cups of sifted flour by spooning the flour into a measuring cup and leveling off the top with a knife. Then sift the measured flour again together with the salt, nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, and baking soda into the mixing bowl. Stir into the wet ingredients until just combined. Stir in raisins, cranberries, or nuts, if using.

into prepared loaf pans, nudging batter into corners. Bake for 45 minutes to an hour, or until a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool on a rack for 10 minutes before removing from pan to cool completely. The bread will keep at room temperature for more than a week if tightly wrapped in plastic. It also freezes beautifully.

Source: Serious Eats

The Weekend.

It is the weekend. I want you to go out there and enjoy it. It's the last weekend before Halloween and, for some reason, that's sort of a special weekend. Here in Seattle, it's the last weekend before the darkness settles over the city. That sounds ominous, I know. It's just that my California blood runs deep and the winter days here are quite short. No matter. Seattle summers are fantastic and the days are long and glorious. I shall not complain.

What are your plans? Run through the leaves? Clean up the garden beds? A trip to the bakery?

We are going to the pumpkin patch where I intend to find the perfect pumpkin and some gourds for the living room. I also intend to wear something autumnal. Fall is a redhead's season. However, you don't have to be a ginger kid to stand out at the patch. When everyone else is dressed in overalls and polar fleece, it's pretty easy to look good.



I will have a special recipe to share next week from our trip. I hope you'll like it. In the meantime, here's another good one. This dessert is perfect for fall. I don't know about you, but I love a bready heartier dessert when the leaves fall and the weather is crisp. I also love pancakes for dessert. It doesn't get much better than that.



Apple Oven Pancake

4 tblsp. unsalted butter
4 cups diced peeled tart apples
2 tblsp. firmly packed brown sugar
4 large eggs, lightly beaten
Juice, strained, of 1/2 of a lemon
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1 cup whole milk
1 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1/8 tsp. salt
Confectioners' sugar for dusting

Preheat oven to 425 degrees and place rack in lower third of the oven.

In a large frying pan over medium-high heat, melt 2 tablespoons of the butter. Add the apples and saute, turning as needed, just until tender, 5-7 minutes Sprinkle with the brown sugar, lemon juice, and cinnamon and stir to combine. Remove from heat.

Place a baking dish 12 inches in diameter or 9 by 13 inches in the oven to heat for 5 minutes. Remove the baking dish from the oven, add the remaining butter and tilt the dish to coat. Spoon the apples into the dish evenly.

In another bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, vanilla, flour, and salt until just blended. Carefully pour the batter over the warm apples. Bake until puffed and golden brown, 20-25 minutes. Remove from the oven and, using a fine mesh sieve, dust the top with confectioners' sugar. Serve.

Source: Williams Sonom

Embrace the Squash.

Squash. I used to find it revolting. The color. The texture. I wondered why on earth anyone would take a squishy forkful of it and willingly put it into his or her mouth?

I guess it was one of the things in this world for which I needed to acquire a taste. Because, let's face it, we all have favorite foods today that would have sent us into a serious tantrum or (my favorite) a lengthy pretend coma as children. Squash is high on my list but so are brussel sprouts and kale. Today, however, I'll focus on the squash and leave the other war stories for another day.

Here is where I have to hand it to my mother. She placed a pile of yams in front of us every single Thanksgiving dinner. I treated them like the plague. My siblings did the same. I distinctly recall multiple freckled faces wincing as my mother nibbled away at the the orange mess.

But, despite that chilly reception, she kept right on cooking those yams every year. Was she dead set on converting us? I'll never know. It's quite possible she just liked yams and made a truckload of them just in case one of us was inclined to tiptoe into her yammy feast. And, much to my surprise, that is exactly what happened.

It was during my late teens when the sudden transformation occurred. I was home from college and feeling more and more sophisticated in my palate. I was possibly tired of dorm food, but more likely drawn to the one thing on the Thanksgiving table I could not possibly resist.

Marshmallows.

Oh sure. You think they're disgusting. And I suppose they are sort of grotesque. I do love them, however. And anyone who has been on a camping trip with me knows marshmallows hold a real power over me. I can't have a bag of them near me because I might clear it out in mere minutes and give myself a horrible stomach ache in the process. Candy pumpkins also do the trick.

Either way, it was just what the doctor ordered on Thanksgiving that year. There were so many marshmallows all melted together that they created sort of a blanket, which cleverly shielded my eyes from the main component of the dish. It was finally possible to eat yams.

Today, I love yams. I particularly love the way a roasted yam can be both sweet and savory at the same time. It's magical. It is also the gateway to squash. Add marshmallows or the combination of sage or brown butter to squash or yams and there is simply nothing out there like it.

In fact, I now look forward to autumn for more than just the cute fall sweaters. Those ugly tubular veggies really have my heart.

The following dish is quite amazing. I lived on it for several days. If I had children, I might try and pass it off as macaroni and cheese. So close are the rich flavors to the classic macaroni dish, that it just might work.

Happy Autumn.



Pasta with Caramelized Squash and Fresh Herbs

9 Tbs. unsalted butter
1 butternut squash, 2 1/2 to 3 lb., peeled, seeded and cut into 1-inch dice
2 Tbs. sugar
1/2 cup chicken or vegetable broth
Salt and freshly ground pepper, to taste
3 Tbs. finely diced shallots
1/8 tsp. freshly grated nutmeg
1 Tbs. minced fresh sage
1 tsp. fresh lemon juice
2 Tbs. minced fresh flat-leaf parsley
1 lb. pasta of your choice,
1 oz. Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, grated

In a braiser over medium-high heat, melt 3 Tbs. of the butter. Add the squash in a single layer and cook, without stirring, until browned underneath, about 6 minutes. Stir the squash and cook until browned on all sides, about 4 minutes more. Add the sugar, broth, salt and pepper, cover and cook until the squash is tender, 2 to 3 minutes. Uncover and continue cooking, stirring occasionally, until the liquid evaporates and the squash is dark brown and glazed, 2 to 3 minutes more. Transfer the squash mixture to a bowl.

In the same pan over medium-high heat, melt the remaining 6 Tbs. butter until light brown spots appear, about 2 minutes. Add the shallots, nutmeg and sage and cook, stirring constantly, until the shallots begin to soften, about 1 minute. Remove the pan from the heat and stir in the lemon juice and parsley. Season with salt and pepper, then stir in the squash.

Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to a boil over high heat. Add the pasta and cook, stirring occasionally, until al dente, about 3 minutes. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup of the cooking water. Add the pasta and the reserved cooking water to the squash mixture and toss to combine.

Transfer the pasta to a warmed large, shallow bowl and sprinkle with some of the cheese. Serve immediately and pass the remaining cheese alongside. Serves 4 to 6.

Adapted from Williams-Sonoma

First Love. Last Love.

Honka Sandoni was my first love. He was my imaginary husband during childhood. Honka was Italian and a great cook who knew how to make a pot of spaghetti. We were both perpetually 28 years old with a litter of children. Those kids (or dolls), who were hip and more like our friends, were inexplicably in their early 20s.

Honka had a brother who was married to my sister L. Strangely enough, Honka's brother was also named Honka and about the same age. L and Honka II had approximately the same amount of children and it's quite possible we all lived in the same imaginary house. I can't really recall. Wherever it was, it must have been a large estate to handle the multitudes of Italian children.

I recall the Honka days fondly. We had a pretty good time raising our kids and partying with them as well. Sadly, I also remember Honka's sudden end. It happened when I introduced him to my mother. She told me that Honka was a nasty name and I shouldn't go about using it. I was devastated, but mostly ashamed. In the blink of an eye, Honka was dead to me. For years, I believed the word "honka" was a dirty word.

I now know and understand my mother a lot better. I recognize her tendency toward hyperbole and the emphasis she places on proper English and grammar. She didn't mean to suggest that "honka" was a dirty word but, rather, an improper word that sounded pretty ridiculous. Either way, that moment made a deep impact on me. I figure this might be why I never spent much time considering married life or planning out my fairy-tale wedding.

Today, I can honestly say that I let Honka fade into memory. I had to let him go so that I could meet and fall in love with K. It also allowed me to create a lovely wedding from scratch without any long-standing expectations.

My wedding day was lovely. It was full of warmth and light.

I'll show you pictures real soon. Maybe next week? In the meantime, I hope you understand why I've been so absent. The couple of weeks leading up to the event were a bit maddening. After we wed on Sept. 26th, it took about a week to decompress. I now realize why people go on honeymoons. We don't have the funds for such things, but the concept makes a lot of sense to me now. Relax. Savor it. Be present. That sort of thing.

I guess you won't be surprised to discover I've cooked only very little. I will say, however, that puff pastry can really be a girl's best friend in a pinch. I managed to whip this up last week to rave reviews. Give it a try. It's pretty rich, but a small portion pairs up nicely with a spicy green salad and a glass of red wine.

Mushroom, Goat Cheese & Leek Tart

3 lb. leeks, white parts and 1 inch of pale green parts, thinly sliced

2 tsp. fresh thyme leaves

1 bay leaf

1/2 cup chicken stock

1 tsp. salt

3/4 tsp. freshly ground pepper

1/3 cup crème fraîche

3 oz. soft goat cheese, crumbled

1/2 lb. cremini mushrooms, brushed clean and coarsely chopped

All-purpose flour for dusting

1 sheet puff pastry, thawed if frozen

In a fry pan over medium-high heat, melt 2 Tbs. of the butter until it foams. Add the leeks and sauté until translucent, 4 to 5 minutes. Add the thyme, bay leaf, stock, 1/2 tsp. of the salt and 1/2 tsp. of the pepper. Reduce the heat to low, cover and simmer until the leeks are nearly tender, about 15 minutes. Uncover and cook, stirring occasionally and being careful not to let the leeks brown, until almost all the liquid has evaporated, about 15 minutes more. Remove and discard the bay leaf.

Transfer the leeks to a bowl. Stir in the crème fraîche and goat cheese until well mixed.

In another fry pan over medium-high heat, melt the remaining 1 Tbs. butter until it foams. Add the mushrooms, the remaining 1/2 tsp. salt and the remaining 1/4 tsp. pepper and sauté until the mushrooms are soft and have released their juices, 3 to 4 minutes. 



Preheat an oven to 400°F. Line a large rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper. 

On a floured work surface, roll out the puff pastry into a rectangle 10 by 12 inches wide and 1/8 inch thick. Transfer the dough to the prepared baking sheet. Spread the leek mixture to within 1 inch of the edge of the dough, and fold the edges of the dough over the filling to make a tart. Bake until the crust puffs and both the crust and the leeks are golden, about 15 minutes. Scatter the mushrooms over the leeks and bake for 5 minutes more. 



Let the tart stand for 5 to 10 minutes. Cut into bite-size pieces and serve warm. 


Adapted from Williams-Sonoma

Essentials

According to my more worldly friends, there are several things a girl needs right before her wedding.

A massage.

A manicure.

A night out on the town with her crew.

A stiff drink.

I'll gladly take all of the above. However, I have one more pre-wedding essential to add to the list.

A trip to a fabulous French bakery with her beau.

Oh, and I'll take some steamy and delicious coffee with that too.



Exhibit A features this final, but abundantly essential, pre-wedding requirement.

I now understand that a good pastry can really take your mind off of the piles and piles of things you left until the last minute. It can be transportive, in a sense. And, while full of things that might make you plump, you might find eating a cube of butter in pastry form decreases stress. You might even add years to your life.



You think I'm exaggerating. I might be. However, I noticed a change in K's spirits following his ingestion of the buttery croissant at the famous Tartine. He was more upbeat and seemingly inspired to go about a long day photographing another happy couple as they take the plunge.



I was thankful for this. It's been a busy busy season. But there is much about these days to celebrate. It's ridiculously important to slow down.

So when you and your sweetie find yourselves sweating over thousands of place-cards made by your loving hands with an exacto knife, scissors and a pretty little stamp, take a load off and head out to Tartine or your nearest and dearest french bakery. The benefits of the butter far outweigh the burdens.



Now, I must get back to it. Just thinking of pastries puts me in far better spirits.

Just 12 days left.

Roasting & Relationships

Recently, K suggested a prenuptial agreement in which I agree to stay well-fed at all times. You might think he was trying to plump me up a bit. Not true. He was merely trying to prepare for any future events during which I might bite the head of a waitress or swear uncontrollably during a fit of low blood sugar. This happens on a rare occasion and it scares K who is nice at all times and never lets food stand in the way of our love.

Needless to say, I did not agree to the prenuptial. I did agree, however, to warn him next time a bout of blood sugar low looms on the horizon.

Frankly, I think K has it pretty good. I know a lot of other hungry people out there who are worse than me. And, truth be told, I don't let myself get too hungry too often. Those of us who enjoy cooking and food do not often find ourselves without.

In other words, I am in the kitchen a lot. What do I do in the kitchen? I graze. I nibble. I figure I'm staying plump and healthy while maintaining good status with my other half. Goodness knows the wedding is just around the corner. There is no time for hunger. Food, after all, is celebratory.



I find that one of the best ways to keep the kitchen pumping is to roast. And, yes, you busy people out there think roasting is time-consuming. Well, that is only partially true. While roasting things takes more time, it is downright easy. In fact, you can dab some herbs or butter on most things, pop them into the oven and forget about them. You might not think another thought about what's in the oven until the buzzer lets you know it's time to eat (again).



With that said, I urge you to try roasting some tomatoes. You will be pleasantly surprised at the fantastic flavors but also at the ease with which you can make a good dish that much better. Don't get me wrong. I know you can find a decent can of tomatoes at the grocery store in a pinch. Those cans get me through many many winter meals. However, it's still summer-ish. Tomatoes are still abundant. Try this dish out using home roasted tomatoes. You won't be disappointed. Your house will be full of the fragrance of food and summer. You might even have extra on hand for those low-blood sugar moments when your relationship hangs by a thread and only a good home-roasted tomato will save the day.

Home Roasted Tomatoes

8- 10 ripe tomatoes (various varieties o.k.), cored
2 tblsp. balsamic vinegar
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
4 large cloves of garlic, peeled and crushed slightly into rough pieces
3-4 bay leaves
3-4 sprigs of fresh thyme
1 tsp. freshly ground pepper
1 tsp. sea salt

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Place the tomatoes in a roasting pan with the cored side upward. Distribute the pieces of crushed garlic evenly in the tomato cavities. Pour olive oil and balsamic vinegar evenly over the tomatoes. Place sprigs of thyme over the tomatoes and between them. Place the bay leaves between the tomatoes. Top the tomatoes with the salt and pepper.

Bake the tomatoes for 45 minutes to 1 hour.

Remove from the oven and let partially cool. Remove the bay leaves and thyme twigs and discard. Peel the skins off and discard. Mash the rest of the ingredients together with your hands or a potato masher to blend. Add any additional salt or pepper to season.


Baked Shrimp with Roasted Tomatoes & Feta

4 scallions
2 garlic cloves
1 1/2 pounds large (21-25 count) de-veined and peeled shrimp
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
28 oz. of roasted tomatoes (canned or homemade)
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese
2 tablespoons chopped fresh dill or oregano

Chop white and green parts of scallions. Finely chop garlic.

Preheat oven to 400°F. Heat olive oil in a large ovenproof skillet over medium heat. Add scallions and garlic and cook, stirring often, until scallions wilt, about 2 minutes. Add tomatoes and their juice and bring to a boil. Cook until tomato juices thicken, about 5 minutes. Season with freshly ground pepper to taste.

Remove from heat and stir in shrimp. Sprinkle with feta cheese.

Bake until cheese melts and shrimp are firm and opaque, about 10-15 minutes.

Adapted from Gourmet.

Take II

And while we are on the subject of semolina, I shall continue. I did not stop at pasta. I found myself very drawn to that little bag of flour. I could not stop my mind from the endless culinary possibilities of a brand new (to me) flour.

It came to me all of a sudden. A cookie. I love a good biscuit or tea cookie that isn't exactly sweet, but hits the spot with a freshly brewed cup of coffee. I used to eat these fabulous cornmeal cookies at a little cafe on Capital Hill, which, sadly, went out of business. I've been obsessed with finding a replacement ever since.



I think I found it. These cookies were fabulously mild, but sweet. They were not sickly sweet, but were a touch savory. They were perfect with coffee or, as Kirk discovered, piled high with a batch of homemade nectarine preserves.



Did they match up to the rosemary shortbread as a wedding favor candidate? No. I don't think I'll use them at the wedding. Perhaps in a welcome basket? They are really a tea cookie. That's their purpose. I will likely let the shortbread take center stage on my wedding day.

Semolina Cookies

3/4 cup flame raisins
1 1/2 cups flour
3/4 cup fine semolina
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup unsalted butter
1/2 cup powdered sugar
1 large egg
About 2 tbsp. cornmeal

In a small bowl, cover raisins with very hot water. Let sit for 10 minutes; drain.

Meanwhile, combine flour, semolina, and salt. In the bowl of a stand mixer, beat butter and sugar until smooth. Add egg, scrape down inside of bowl, and mix until combined. Add flour mixture, orange zest, and currants, mixing slowly until combined. Turn dough onto a work surface and shape into a disk. Wrap in plastic wrap and chill at least 2 hours and up to 2 days.

Preheat oven to 350°. Unwrap dough, place on a floured work surface, and roll 1/3 in. thick. Evenly sprinkle 2 baking sheets with about 1 tbsp. cornmeal each. Cut dough with a 2-in. decorative cutter and place slightly apart on baking sheets, re-rolling scraps as needed.

Bake cookies until light golden brown, 10 to 12 minutes, switching pan positions halfway through cooking. Transfer cookies to a rack to cool.

Adapted from Sunset Magazine.

On Semolina.

Recently, I was waiting in line to order lunch with a friend at Grand Central Bakery in Pioneer Square. Although it's not my favorite bakery, it works in a pinch when you are stuck downtown and desirous of outdoor seating but lacking energy to wait in line for a truly remarkable sandwich. As we moved closer to the counter, a hipster baker approached. She had a loaf of steamy fresh bread, which she carried with rubber gloves. We made eye contact and my eyes lit up as she plucked a healthy hunk of the end of the loaf and handed it to me.

It was incredible. A bit sweet and reminiscent of corn bread. Great soft texture and a hearty crust.

The hipster baker said the loaf was made with semolina flour. She said they only make it once a week and they are the only bakery to carry it. In other words, it's quite special.

It was, indeed, special. However, I didn't buy it. (I am still boycotting store bought breads).

I bought semolina flour instead.

The semolina flour was purchased at the store and then placed into a shopping bag. The flour then came back to my home where it was placed on a shelf to rest until motivation and/ or inspiration struck.

And, after about a week, I pulled out the flour. You would think I would first set my sights on recreating that delicious loaf of broad. I did not. I figured if I made bread before K returned home I might eat the whole loaf. It's been known to happen. In that case, we would be left without food for dinner. So, instead, I made pasta.



I am certainly glad I made that pasta. It was probably the easiest pasta I've made. This pasta boasted the best soft and elastic texture, which cruised through the pasta maker like butter. Moreover, it was the quickest cooking pasta and, certainly, a real beaut on the plate.

September is here and your meals are slowing getting heartier. While we ate this pasta drenched in a traditional pesto, it would be lovely with wild mushrooms or squash. I hope you try it. Homemade pasta is nothing to fear. It's quite easy and tasty. Besides, your friends will be madly impressed at your next dinner party.



Semolina Fettucine

2 1/2 cups semolina (sometimes called semolina flour) plus additional for dusting
1/2 cup plus 1/3 cup lukewarm water
All-purpose flour for dusting

Equipment: a pasta machine

Stir together semolina and water in a large bowl until a slightly crumbly dough forms, then knead on a work surface (not floured) until smooth and elastic, 7 to 9 minutes (dough will start out dry; do not add water). Dust bottom of bowl with semolina, place dough on top, and let rest, covered with plastic wrap, 30 minutes.

Divide dough into 8 pieces, then flatten each piece into a rough rectangle and cover with plastic wrap. Set rollers of pasta machine on widest setting. Lightly dust rollers with all-purpose flour and feed 1 piece of dough through rollers. (Keep remaining dough covered.) Fold rectangle into thirds and feed it, open end first, through rollers 4 or 5 times, folding in thirds each time and feeding open end through. Lightly dust rollers and your hands with flour if necessary to prevent sticking.

Turn dial to next (narrower) setting and feed dough through rollers twice at same setting without folding. Turn dial to next (narrower) setting and repeat. Dough should now be about 1/16 inch thick (about 14 inches long and 3 1/2 inches wide). Lay on a semolina-dusted baking sheet. Dust pasta with semolina. Roll out remaining dough in same manner (do not stack pasta sheets).

Attach fettucine blades (to cut 1/4-inch-wide strips) to pasta machine. Feed one end of driest pasta sheet (the first one you rolled out) into cutters, holding other end straight up, then catch strips from underneath machine before sheet goes completely through rollers and gently lay across a semolina-dusted baking sheet. Cut remaining pasta sheets in same manner. Let cut pasta dry slightly, at least 5 minutes, before cooking.

Source: Gourmet

A Brief Respite. No Frills.

We spent the weekend in Coeur D'Alene, Idaho. Have you been ?

It's a pretty magical town.

CDA manages to stay quaint without overdevelopment. And, when I say quaint, I mean it in the truest sense not in the phony-trying-too-hard-to-be cute way. Couer D'Alene doesn't have to try hard. In August, life is simple. It's locals, boaters, and lots of good times.

I like it a lot. K does too. And, fortunately for us, his parents own a home right on the lake. You can jump right off the dock and into the cool waters. Or, take a boat out on the water and find a secluded cove.

It was a much needed getaway.



It was also a fairly quiet weekend. K's parents are both injured so we spent a great deal of time lounging around the deck with them watching the boats pass by beneath us. We also got a chance to sort through lots of boxes of old photographs.

We found some great stuff.



I am in love with this little lap dog.



I love this one. Weddings are always sweet.

And, speaking of sweetness, my sweetie took me to one of his favorite joints in town. It was fantastic. I had the best hamburger of my life. Well, to be honest, I do not have a great deal of burger experience. After all, I did spend the past several years sampling many veggie burgers. This meaty delight, however, will not soon be forgotten. Perhaps it was the starvation and stars I was seeing after a long bike ride in the raging hot sun? Perhaps it was the blissful way I am when we are away together? Either way, I will always remember this place for that flavorful, juicy burger.



The place is Hudsons Hamburgers. And, if you live within 50 miles of it, you know the place. Hudsons is over 100 years old. It's a landmark.



If you're looking for something fancy, this isn't the place. This is no frills. If you want a ton of interesting toppings, go elsewhere. They offer onion, pickles, and cheese. Condiments? Catsup, spicy catsup, and mustard.

You'll have to wait in line for certain. It's worth it to savor a little piece of Idaho history.



Eat up, CDA.