One glimpse at this recipe and I knew I had to try it. Are these cookies supposed to be eaten for dessert? Breakfast? Late-night snack?
Who cares, they’re delicious. I want to start carrying them around in my pockets so I can eat them whenever I want.
A few notes: I didn’t peel the apples and I finely chopped them instead of grating them. I ran out of golden raisins so I added dried cranberries. Chill the dough before baking to get chewy, tall cookies. Best when fresh and gooey and crisp on the outside, in my opinion.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but when the weather gets hot, I want to eat. And cook. A lot. I spent most of this last (very brutal) heat wave hiding indoors, soaking up other people’s air conditioning. While the streets of New York felt like an even dirtier sauna than usual, I was quietly slurping down iced coffee and eating chocolate cake, chocolate croissants, and squishy cheeseburgers within walking distance of my apartment. At home, I made big ass healthy salads (of the raw vegetable, whole grain, potato, and pasta varieties) while hoping that my responsible 80-degree thermostat setting would prevent any blackouts (I stocked flashlights, candles, and ice-cold tequila, just in case).
Also, I was nuts enough to bake pizza in a 500-degree oven, albeit very quickly. Feel free to try this in other weather.
To make it: Saute sliced mushrooms and chopped raddichio in a little bit of oil (tip: if your radicchio is really, really bitter, you can soak chopped pieces in ice water for at least 30 minutes to leach out some of whatever bitter-tasting compounds). Shape dough (I’m still doing no-knead) and top with mozzarella (torn into pieces), shallots (thinly sliced), mushroom and radicchio mixture, thinly sliced pancetta (torn into pieces), and pieces of aged gouda, in this order. Bake til crust is golden and cheese starts getting bubbly.
Previously: radicchio, apple, and gorgonzola pizza
Homemade pizzas are never as perfect as the stuff you get at all the well-known pizza places here in New York (I recently spent 15 minutes describing Di Fara pizza to someone… there was a lot of chest-clutching on my part), but hot damn are they fun to make! You can make them whatever size you want, pile on a bunch of vegetables, and make ridiculous/inappropriate-in-restaurant designs and shapes with the toppings. Hell, you can even make your own cheese. Here’s a run-down of this latest pizza of mine.
The dough:
I finally gave no-knead dough a shot because lazy-made baked goods? Yes please. This is my new favorite way to make pizza dough because all you have to do is mix 4 ingredients in a bowl, then let it hang out for at least half a day.
The pesto:
Garlic scapes are the curly stems that shoot out of garlic bulbs in the early summer. They are trimmed off so that the garlic can devote all of its energy to the underground bulb. Scapes are less pungent than regular garlic cloves, and you can eat them raw or lightly cooked. I combined them with toasted pine nuts and olive oil in the food processor to make a bright green pesto. Perfect for tossing with pasta or vegetables, mixing into salad dressings and marinades, or spreading on sandwiches or pizza dough.
The cheese:
I spread big dots of homemade ricotta (more on that later) all over the dough, along with pieces of mozzarella. Shaved Parmigiano Reggiano (or some other aged, hard cheese) would’ve also been a good finishing touch.
I’ve gotten into the habit of cooking pizzas on an upside-down baking sheet that has been sitting in my oven while it preheats on the highest temperature setting. The crusts get a little more crusty this way. Since I don’t have a pizza peel, I assemble the pizzas on a piece of parchment paper, then slide it onto the hot baking sheet. The better way, according to people who are far more experienced than I am (read ‘em here and here), is to put the dough directly on an overturned pan under the broiler.
For more basic homemade pizza tips, check out the New York Times’ short slide show.
Hi, I’m back. That month-long intermission was thanks to school work piling up, old friends from high school coming to visit, and nothing terribly interesting or new happening in the kitchen. But school’s out, it’s sunny outside, and I will be doing a lot of languishing around this busy city for the next week.
Amazingly, I finished a take-home final several hours before the deadline yesterday and even had time to bake a little cake salé with cheddar and chives to bring to a class potluck/mingle-fest (yes, we do a lot of celebrating with food in my Nutrition program). After an evening of eating and drinking (both relatively lightly, believe it or not) at Red Rooster AND Dinosaur BBQ, I couldn’t wait to sleep in and be a bum all day. I was woken up by a couple of pigeons doing it right outside the living room window. I don’t know why I’m bringing any of this up, but the point is, I spent my morning making a whole batch of ricotta gnochi and obsessing over all the vegetables piling up in the fridge.
To make it, I tossed cooked gnudi with sauteed asparagus and crimini mushrooms in a pan, then topped it off with a pat of butter, a few shavings of lemon zest (a squirt of juice might’ve been good too, looking back), chopped scallions, and let it heat through. Sprinkle some chives and grated cheese on top before digging in.
Sometimes I come home after a late night of grazing on nachos and beer followed by a late afternoon of brunching on buttery ham, egg, and cheese sandwiches with fries, and all I want to eat for dinner is more bread, more cheese, and more cured pork. Also, a huge salad with crunchy vegetables and fruit to restore my sanity and nutrition cred.
Ahh, nothing quite like warm pancakes and warm sunlight in the late morning (or let’s be honest, an early afternoon) on a lazy weekend. I used this recipe as a guide, ignoring the cherry sauce part and using some chunky store-bought cherry jam instead. Freshly grated nutmeg in the batter is also a nice touch. Beating the egg whites and yolks separately seems a bit fussy, but the light and airy results are worth it. Also, you can split up the tasks and have one person beat the whites while another does the rest of the stuff.
The weather report for today was fraught with words like “icy,” “sleet,” and “freezing rain.” Meaning the weather really sucks. On the bright side, this is exactly the kind of day for a homemade version of that canned kiddie favorite, tomato soup. With a plain grilled cheddar sandwich, of course. It’s a winter version of a favorite summer combination: bread, tomatoes, and cheese.
At its simplest, all it takes to make tomato soup is canned (home-canned or otherwise) tomatoes, a little bit of chopped onion, water or broth, and salt and pepper. If you want to get un-basic, you can take it in all kinds of directions: fresh herbs, other vegetables (celery, peppers, carrots, garlic), spices like curry powder or cayenne pepper or cumin, creme fraiche stirred in at the end. I also found that a pinch of sugar is exactly what tomato soup needs to round out all that acidity. To make it: soften the onions (and other vegetables, if using) in a little bit of oil or butter, then add the rest of the ingredients. Bring to a simmer. Give it all a quick whirl (carefully and messily) in a blender or food processor (or with an immersion blender), then return it to the pot to heat it through.
If you have ever had the gnudi at The Spotted Pig here in NYC, you don’t need me to tell you how face-melting delicious it is. The name comes from the Italian for “naked” because the pillowy little nuggets of ricotta are like ravioli with their prudish pasta pants torn off. When you bathe these little guys in brown butter and crispy sage (and maybe some crispy pancetta like I remember having at the restaurant a few years ago), you are left with (or maybe only I am left with) other similes that are both snicker-worthy and confusing. But mostly delicious.
I found a recipe with step-by-step photos along with an explanation of the important secret step in making gnudi the way The Spotted Pig does. I think the only thing missing in the recipe is salt; I had to sprinkle some on at the end, but next time I’ll just add it to the cheese mixture. And while it is hard to stray from the combination of brown butter and sage, I can’t help but think about these cheesy little dumplings soaking up a bit of rich, meaty sauce.
