Lupe and I walk past a house with so many apples, that they fall and cluster in a stream. I imagine that the water is probably sweet. She’ll run over and taste it, but I have not. Since this picture was taken, the apples have frozen and floated away. We had a cold spell last week.

Often, I walk or run with Lupe in the woods after school. Now I have to go at 2pm, because it starts to get dark by 3:30! I like being outside, because, even though the tree tops are gray, their colors are still around. Like confetti, underfoot.

]]> http://www.breadandcourage.com/2011/11/13/late-fall-vermont/feed/ 0 http://www.breadandcourage.com/2011/10/19/fall-vermont/ http://www.breadandcourage.com/2011/10/19/fall-vermont/#comments Thu, 20 Oct 2011 02:01:15 +0000 isabellypepper http://www.breadandcourage.com/?p=3171 I love fall. I haven’t had a lot of time to cook for myself, but I immensely enjoy eating things other people make, especially if those things involve apples. Also, I love cider donuts.  I’ve even found a recipe to try, someday…when I graduate from law school, start my career, have children and watch them grow up and go away. Then I’ll make some cider donuts.

Though I’ve had less time for cooking than I’d like, I’ve found that life is grand even when it’s not centered around the stove. Especially at this time of year, and especially in Vermont.

It’s been a while, so I’ll go back a bit. Tunbridge, VT: September 17th.

Christopher and I saw some very sweet cows, and a few prize-winning vegetables.

He rode Air Force One, and felt like the king of the green mountains. I had to look away, because the sight of his whirling chair made my stomach turn. There were lots of onlookers. I licked a candy apple and stared at a grass patch.

The next day, (my birthday) I saw these beautiful berries at the farmer’s market. We ate them with Greek yogurt and clover honey. I felt like the queen.

When we visited the lake a bit later, it was quite cold. That didn’t stop my mother from swimming. This photo was taken on October 11. She is braver than I am, although I think of myself as being quite brave.

This takes us to October 11th. Can you believe?! She swam on October 11?

We had to re-stoke the fire, and we ate warm cider donuts with vanilla ice cream.

Then the trees really started to turn. It gets more beautiful, still. Just wait until next week! Life gets better and better.

I also feel compelled on Sunday nights to squirrel away food for the week ahead. I like roasted vegetables and quinoa or Israeli couscous with herbs, leftover black bean soup and anything with Parrano cheese. Towards the end of the week, I pack almond butter and banana sandwiches on cinnamon-raisen Ezekiel bread. But, because Christopher and I make a ritual of roasting a small bird on Sunday night, I often have chicken salad in my Monday lunchbox.

This may be my favorite chicken salad recipe of all time. That says a lot because chicken salad is one of the tastiest dishes imaginable. Anyone who doesn’t like chicken salad is either a vegetarian or a liar. I’ve heard tell that some folks don’t like mayo. I’m not in that camp, but I can understand why you might be turned off by a glistening, jiggly food that’s made of eggs but can last in the pantry for years if unopened. That’s why this recipe is wonderful: it uses a scant cup of plain yogurt, which offers just enough zest and moisture to enhance the taste and texture of chicken.

This recipe is just right in the fall: apples are back, and warm spices taste best in cooler weather. Strafford Organic Creamery sells organic yogurt—-and milk, and ice cream—-which I consume daily. I love yogurt. I am probably the only person in America who exceeds the recommended three cups of dairy a day: I’m above-quota now that we’re in Vermont and Strafford ice cream is in the freezer. {I recently had a conversation with a gentleman who said that he would have Strafford ice cream if he were about to face the electric chair. “That’s the strangest thing,” I replied. “I’ve thought the same.”}

In any event, this salad takes just a few minutes to prepare and is a perfect lunch–it leaves me feeling sated, but not groggy. Fresh apples, tart, chewy cranberries and crunchy toasted walnuts make it special. I owe this recipe to my friend Louisa, who made a version of it over a weekend in July and had me eating chicken salad for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Curried Chicken Salad with Apples, Dried Cranberries & Walnuts

Combine 8oz pulled chicken (I combine light and dark meat from a roast chicken) and 1 c plain yogurt in a bowl with 2 teaspoons of curry powder. Add a pinch of salt, and a dash of pepper. Mix in 1/2 c toasted walnuts, 1/2 c dried cranberries (or dried cherries) and 2 medium-sized, chopped apples. Season with additional curry, salt or pepper, as desired.

I have done this for many days, in many forms. I’m addicted to the zip zing of crystalized ginger, the crunch of a toasted nut, and the richness of oats crisped up in almond butter. I eat it with almond milk, with yogurt, sometimes sprinkled over oatmeal…or over ice cream. I ate it while flipping note cards and textbook pages, and now I eat it over the paper, or in a Ball Jar with milk in my cubicle at the DA’s office. I am always careful to put on my suit coat after I take the last spoonful, so that there’s no dribble of milk on my buttons. And then, I head up to Court 10 for the fugitive docket.

Can you imagine a better way of reminding yourself… “Hey! Life could be worse?” Sometimes I shudder at the memory of eating breakfast while trying to understand the Rule Against Perpetuities. But then I remind myself…there could be a warrant out for me somewhere.

But seriously, this stuff is so good, it should be criminal.

Almond Ginger Granola

2 c oats

1 c canola oil

1/2 c honey

1 c almond butter

1/2 c almond slivers, toasted

1/2 c dried cranberries (optional)

1/3 c crystalized ginger, chopped

2 t cinnamon (optional)

1 t salt (& more to taste)

___

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Combine honey, oil and almond milk in a small sauce pan on very low heat.

Stir constantly until mixture is just warm enough to be thinned out.

Pour almond butter mixture over oats, add salt and cinnamon and stir until combined.

Bake 10 minutes, then rotate pan and stir oats.

Bake 5 more minutes, and if mixture looks golden, add nuts. (If not, bake a bit more.)

Toss and bake a final 5 minutes.

Stir in ginger and cranberries and cool: do not transfer to a jar or container until mixture is cool, or granola will get soggy.

Store in a Ball Jar for up to 2 weeks.

Sometimes the only ambition you need is a heap of browning bananas.

Both Christopher and I recently both bought bunches, and the next thing I knew, our kitchen was overcome with the smell of very ripe fruit. I came home one afternoon and realized I had to put away (or put up) five bananas before the morning, or I might not get any at all. Another neglected foodstuff came quickly to mind. And so breakfast for the week was born.

And then breakfast for another week. And snacks. I made my latest batch into muffins, so they could be toted around or easily frozen. I haven’t had to save any yet, though. I think I’ll probably just make a batch of muffins every Sunday, and finish them off by Friday. Aside for the time this loaf is in the oven, it takes longer to wash the two bowls than to use them for mixing. And there’s not a single, regrettable item in the batter.  Unless you don’t like bananas or buckwheat.

Buckwheat Banana Bread

Makes 8 slices or 12 muffins

1/2 cup buckwheat flour
1/4 cup whole wheat flour
1/4 cup oats (toast lightly in a dry skillet until golden)
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 c toasted, chopped walnuts or pecans (plus extra for garnish) 
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 c birch sugar (or 1 c regular sugar)
5 ripe bananas, 4 mashed + 1 sliced for garnish
2 large eggs, whisked
1 c plain yogurt

___

Pre-heat the oven to 350.

Mix the flours, oats, salt and spices in a medium-sized bowl.

Mix the mashed banana, sugar and yogurt in a large bowl.

Add the flour to the wet ingredients and stir gently to combine.

Pour the batter into a greased and floured bread pan.

Garnish with sliced bananas and nuts, and bake for 35-45 minutes.

(If you do these as muffins, bake only 20-25 minutes.)

This recipe is the one I make when I need to make an impression. Since carrot cake seems relatively innocuous, nobody thinks you’re being a show-off. Plus, it’s so easy, you literally can’t ruin it. I’ll explain…

I once made this cake for a faux-Thanksgiving and accidentally used flour in lieu of half of the confectioner’s sugar called for in the recipe, (never mix-up your Mason jars) but even so, people ate it up. Not just to be polite, although I think it went down a little easier since so much wine had been imbibed.

Another time, I made this for a real Thanksgiving dinner at my in-laws house. Needless to say, I neglected to flour the greased pan, and ended up removing the cake in chunks. Even so, it was incredible: nothing like a thick cream cheese frosting to layer into your dough and glue things right up.

What I’m saying is that this cake simply can’t be ruined, even if you commit the most egregious of cooking errors. And when you do it right, it’s mind-blowing.

I recently had a Sunday afternoon to spend with my friend Katelyn, and we decided to make this in a more diminutive form–the kind that’s easily shared and wins you lots of friends and fans. Every crumb of our cupcakes seemed suspended in air, or perhaps a lattice-work of carrot and coconut shreds. There was the occasional walnut to add texture and the slight tartness of the cream cheese did wonders for off-setting the sweetness of the caramelized batter.

The recipe below is copied almost exactly from Saveur, although I like to add 1/4 c of maple syrup to the batter and sprinkle toasted coconut on top of the finished product (usually 1/2 cup will do). When I do this as a full-sized cake, I bake 2 rounds, double the frosting and make a layer cake with walnuts along the sides and coconut on top.

Carrot Cake (Cupcakes)

Makes 24

BATTER:

Nonstick cooking spray
2 cups sugar
1 1⁄2 cups canola oil
3 eggs
2 cups flour
2 tsp. ground cinnamon
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. fine salt
1  8-oz. can crushed pineapple, undrained
1  7-oz. bag shredded sweetened coconut
1 cup finely chopped walnuts
2 tsp. vanilla extract
2 large carrots, trimmed and finely shredded (about 2 cups)

ICING:

3 cups confectioners’ sugar
3⁄4 lb. cream cheese, softened
8 tbsp. salted butter, softened
1⁄2 tsp. vanilla extract

CAKE: Preheat oven to 350°.

Fill 12 cupcake tins with liners. (You’ll do this twice.)

Put sugar, oil, and eggs into a large bowl and whisk until well combined.

Add flour, cinnamon, baking soda, and salt and stir with a wooden spoon until just mixed together into a batter.

Add pineapple with juice, coconut, walnuts, vanilla, and carrots and gently fold together until combined.

Transfer batter to prepared pan, smooth top with a rubber spatula, and bake until deep golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the middle of the cake comes out clean, 50–55 minutes. Set cake aside to let cool completely.

ICING: Put sugar, cream cheese, butter, and vanilla into a large bowl and beat with an electric mixer until fluffy, 4–5 minutes.

Generously frost each cupcake (once cooled) and sprinkle the top with toasted coconut.

The first time my mother made it this year (it’s most satisfying in the cold), Christopher and I were en route from a late flight for Thanksgiving. We debated grabbing something from the new–very culinary–Kennedy Jet Blue terminal, but were convinced to hold off. When we finally arrived at home, it was 10:30 and we were numb with hunger. I didn’t tell Christopher what was waiting: he doesn’t like sweet vegetables and I was sure he’d envision some purée of maple syrup, apples and cinnamon, which seem to be prominent ingredients in most squash soups. Fortunately, the deep curry and herbs disguise the sugar and starch typical of so many root vegetables. This soup is subtly spiced, rich from a ham-hock and fit for those with a hankering for savory food. In fact, if it weren’t so orange, you might not even recognize its main ingredient.

On another note, Christopher and I are going to Paris tomorrow. Last night I started reading Paris Was Ours and woke myself up with excitement at 3:30am. Fortunately, I had a generous nap, but I haven’t been so excited for a trip in as long as I can remember. I will be heading to E. Dehillerin, on the recommendation of Christopher’s grandmother. Her suggestion reminded me of a quote I recently read  by Florence King: “A house without a grandmother is like an egg without salt.” I can’t wait to eat hardboiled eggs in little french cups with little french spoons. Copper pots aren’t bad either… neither are croissantes, the Musée d’Orsay, Shakespeare and Company or the smell of wooden cathedral pews, smoothed through years of use.

Curried Squash Soup

Adapted (by memory) from Green on Greens

1 medium-sized butter nut squash, cubed

2 T butter

5 scallions, thinly sliced

1 green pepper, diced

1 red pepper, diced

2-3 garlic cloves, chopped (depending on their size and your taste)

1 ham-hock (1/4 lb of salt pork could also work–add it at the beginning with less butter)

2 qts chicken broth

1/2 c chopped basil

1/4 c chopped parsley

–

Melt the butter in a large, heavy-bottomed skillet until brown and bubbling.

Add the scallions and peppers and sauté until soft, about 7 minutes.

Add garlic and squash and sauté a few minutes more, just until garlic begins to brown.

Add chicken stock and ham hock and bring to a boil.

Lower the heat and cook until squash softens, 45 minutes.

Add herbs and cook another 5 minutes.

Blends, or pass through a food mill, being careful not to cause any explosions.

Serve with a small spoonful of crème fraîche or additional herbs.

This soup is nothing to mess with. It is loaded with vitamins, antioxidants, immune-enhancers and most importantly, tons of flavor. If I were a germ, I’d scoot right out of my host body and prey upon someone else. So make sure your friends have batches on hand.

This particular carrot ginger soup came to me from the pages of Candle Café Cookbook, one of my favorite vegetarian cooking resources from one of my favorite vegetarian eating resources, the Candle Café in New York. I used to live around the corner and went there whenever I felt the urged to be elixed.

Have you ever felt so energized by a meal that it literally feels as though all of the nutrition you just ate went straight into your bloodstream? That is how I feel when I eat a great, vegetarian meal. That is how I feel when I eat at Candle Café… and now, that I how I feel when I make their recipes at home.

Imagine my excitement when I found that I could buy the Candle Café cookbook and get that fix whenever I pleased? Elated, that’s how… as though some wonderful adrenal force was coursing through my veins. Some people take drugs; I take carrot soup.

I could go on and on about the recipes in that cookbook. Unlike so many restaurants, which seem to have trouble paring their industrial sized recipes down to the scale of a domestic kitchen, the folks at Candle Café make it possible for you to actually recreate their meals. Hold on, I feel a rush coming on.

I garnished this soup with another recipe (adapted slightly) from the book—a miso tahini dipping sauce with shaved carrots and ginger. It balanced the sweetness of the carrot puree with its rich, salty sesame flavor. I added a cold dollop of it onto the warm soup, and I must say, the temperature contrast was really dynamic and heightened the complementary flavors. If you don’t want to get sick, but you do want to get high… make this soup.

Velvety Carrot and Ginger Soup

From Candle Café Cookbook

Serves 4-6

1 Tbsp olive oil
3 medium onions, peeled and chopped
5 cups of vegetable broth
6 large carrots, peeled and chopped
3 tablespoons finely grated fresh ginger
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground coriander
pinch of cayenne
sea sat and freshly ground pepper, to taste

In a large, heavy bottomed stockpot, heat olive oil. Add onions and sauté for about 7 minutes, or until golden.

Add the broth, a cup of water, the carrots and 2 tbsp of ginger. Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer, partially covered, for about 20 minutes, or until carrots are tender.

Remove pot from heat and cool for about an hour (if you don’t have an hour, be sure to pure the soup in small batches to prevent heat-related blender accidents…)

Pure the soup in a food processor or blender. Add the remaining ginger, cinnamon and coriander and blend again until very smooth. Serve warm or cold with a dollop of miso tahini dipping sauce and chopped scallions or chives.

Miso Tahini Dipping Sauce

1 c sweet, white miso
1 c water
1 c grated carrot
1 tbsp grated fresh ginger
3 tbsp tahini

Pure miso and water in a blender or food processor. Whisk in tahini until incorporated. Mix in carrots and ginger. Store refrigerated up to 1 week.

Tarragon Turkey Salad

1  lb turkey meat, shredded

3/4  c mayo

2 ribs of celery, chopped

1/2 c chopped tarragon

Sea salt and fresh pepper

–

Place shredded turkey and mayo in a bowl and mix well, so that that all of the pieces of meat are generously coated.

Add tarragon and celery and mix.

Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Serve over red leaf lettuce or between slices of your favorite, toasted bread.

There were always sounds, inside and out. Either the floorboards creaked and settled, or the wind moved through the trees and made their branches scratch together like eerie, quiet chimes. The house is inhabited by at least one ghost, though some report that there are several. Barefoot Charlie is there for sure. He owned the house just before my grandmother bought it and died without shoes, apparently. I saw him a few times when I was young, but he stopped appearing as I got older. He never makes any sounds.

Dayspring is the kind of place where an alert ear triggers an even more sensitive imagination and can keep a person up until daylight. As a kid, I often lost sleep when the pitches of the house carried me through unexpected pathways of my own invention. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive than on the nights when every shadow and every sound was endowed with its own spirit.

When we were young, my parents took Lily and me out to a nearby graveyard on autumn evenings leading up to Halloween. We sat on blankets surrounded by graves, some dating to the 17th century. My father invented stories about their inhabitants, his face lit strangely by a kerosene lamp. Those weekend nights were the most fun a kid could have, second only to their crowning event. To this day, Halloween is the only time of year I feel justified in stuffing myself with pure sugar. Tonight, it’s fudge.

Happy Halloween.

Dark Chocolate Fudge with Walnuts

Makes 12 pieces

2 c Semi-sweet chocolate chips

2oz unsweetened chocolate, chopped

140z of sweetened, condensed milk

2 1/2 tsp. vanilla extract

1 c walnuts, toasted and chopped

__

Line an 8″ pan with waxed paper.

Place chocolate and condensed milk in a double boiler and stir until melted.

Remove from heat, stir in vanilla extract, and then walnuts.

Spread fudge into pan and refrigerate at least 2 hours.

Store, uncovered at room temperature.