It’s been a while since I posted a sourdough recipe, so I will make it up by offering up to the internet not one, but two new recipes.
…
Well, one recipe and one (delicious) variation.
It’s been a while since I posted a sourdough recipe, so I will make it up by offering up to the internet not one, but two new recipes.
…
Well, one recipe and one (delicious) variation.
When I need milk I make my own almond milk because, as I’m sure that most people know by now, adult humans really shouldn’t be drinking milk. Store bought dairy-free milks aren’t really an option either because they normally have an emulsifier and thickener called carrageenan, which likely causes such wonderful effects as “inflammation, gut irritation, and even cancer.”
The problem with almond milk is once you go through the process of grinding up the almonds in a blender and filtering out the liquid (here is a recipe if you’d like to know more), you wind up with a ton of leftover almond pulp that you have to either toss or dry out and store somehow and hope it doesn’t get moldy.
Or you could use it as an excuse to make cookies!
A tasty-looking homemade pizza courtesy of Food Recipes (follow the link for an alternate pizza crust recipe!)
I know, I know: pizza gets a terrible rap in America. It’s a big ol’ disk of greasy cheese and possibly a meat-like substance that your parents got when they didn’t want to cook dinner that night. Or what your high school or college got in order to lure unsuspecting students to an event. You can get good pizza, but it involves going to a restaurant somewhere and spending a bit more than you probably want because it’s a pizza for crying out loud (this is not to say that pizza from fancy restaurants is not delicious–we just have a stigma). And don’t even get me started on the whole “artisanal” pizza thing.
But I have seen the light. Today, I am here today as a pizza-missionary, seeking to cure our starved pizza-culture. Believe it or not, you can make good pizza at home. I am by no means a pizza-expert–nay, merely an amateur–but I have learned this: it all starts with the crust.
photo credit/Alfonso Pierantonio
I am a college student. As I do not eat top ramen for every meal (as far as I can tell, the college-student-who-lives-on-top-ramen is a myth, but that’s a conversation for another day), it is necessary for me to have some basic kitchen implements. These are the ones that I use the most.
A few months ago, I wanted to make bread, but I had a problem: I didn’t want to buy a an $8 jar of baker’s yeast because I probably wouldn’t use most of it and the unused yeast would just die. I also didn’t want to buy some of the little packets of yeast because that’s ultimately, like, one-third of the yeast for the same amount of money.
So I had a brilliant idea: I will get myself a gooey mess of active yeast and bacteria that has to be periodically fed with flour and water lest it dies, thereby forever creating more work for myself just so I don’t have to shell out $8 for a jar of yeast.
That, my friends, is how I got a sourdough starter.
National Chocolate Cake Day, it’s on. Flickr / gail_thepinkpeppercorn
There’s not much to love about January. There’s the occasional birthday celebration, but other than that there’s no fun excuse to eat and drink with reckless abandon. It’s cold and you find yourself recovering from Christmas and New Year’s—emotionally, physically and financially—at the gym with a million other sweaty people who are also pounding guiltily on the treadmills.
But just as you start to lose hope… there’s a flicker of light. January 27 is National Chocolate Cake Day! The origin of this glorious day seems to be a mystery (but if you know, tell us!). But even if you describe yourself as “not a chocolate person,” you still have an appreciation for this classic dessert.
From the delicate flourless chocolate cake, to Betty Crocker cake mix, to the rich, moist, buried-in-frosting monstrosities you find at chain restaurants, we honor this staple in dessert history with five lovely recipes. Pick one. Make it. And make it your own (and don’t forget to share the recipe).
Food Network: Flourless Chocolate Cake
Bon Appetit: Chocolate Cake with Caramel-Milk Frosting
Epicurious: Chocolate Stout Cake
Barefoot Contessa: Beatty’s Chocolate Cake
Food and Wine: Mom’s Chocolate Cake
Forever in cake,
A
It all started when we decided to have brunch on the rooftop. This Chicago summer has been unusually cool and extra rainy, so a beautiful sunny morning meant going outside and staying there. And what’s my favorite outdoor activity? Brunching.
But I wanted to change it up. We all know my love for bennies but it was a low maintenance kind of morning: no toting fragile eggs up to the roof. And Bon Appetit had the answer: brunch cobbler.
It’s billed as a ‘easy bake’ type of recipe. It’s kind of like kitchen sinking: Toss everything in a bowl, put it in a baking pan, then make some delicious dough that bakes up so fluffily and pop it on top. Done.
Pears are truly the forgotten fruit. Even when they’re not quite ripe, they bake so perfectly keeping that stiffness of something crunchy while being absolutely chewy at the same time. I also misread the label and got dried cranberries instead of cherries, but I feel like you could put any fruit in this and it would come out amazing. And when you reheat it, it’s like you just pulled it out of the oven again.
But if there’s one thing that really pulls this recipe together it’s the vanilla bean ice cream.
Love,
A
I’ve decided that you, banana bread muffins, will be my thing.
You know, the one thing that a person always makes and it’s always good and everyone likes it. My thing.
It only makes sense because I love – OK, am obsessed with – bananas. I buy them in bulk meaning I have them around all the time. It also means that I always have the right amount of bananas at the right amount of ripeness for banana bread every week. And every week I try to perfect the recipe.
This week I hit a road block: no eggs. But a quick search later, I ran into this recipe so I thought I’d give it a shot.
It’s not perfect enough to be “my thing” quite yet, but I’m a fan of these babies. Dense but very light and fluffy, I ate five almost immediately with a tall glass of iced coffee.
So the perfecting process continues. But worry not eggless banana bread muffins: You were a hit in the office. And in my tummy.
Love,
A
I have to say that making these cupcakes meant more than a treat. This adventure ended with a true appreciation of the ease of baking.
Much of my life, I avoided baking things because it seemed so difficult. Maybe you’ve been there: You’re on your own for the first time and your only objective is to save all the dollars you can. So whatever is considered ‘excessive’ is immediately off the list (granted, the concept of excessive is wildly subjective). For me, anything beyond basic nutrition was not in the realm of possibility. That meant any baking adventure came with a high bill: Buying pans, aluminum foil, parchment paper, flour, eggs, milk and so on really adds up if you buy it all at once.
That translated to baking = expensive, so I won’t do it often. It’s just not my thing. After spending a few more years on the planet (and slowly accumulating baking tools), the habit of ‘every day items’ finally manifested. And as I pulled out ingredients from my pantry this weekend, I began to muse on this: I smiled at the idea that I decided to make cupcakes on a whim. I was excited that I didn’t need to go to the store for anything (even the frosting!). I thought about each baking tool I used and when I bought it, why I bought it, who I bought it with.
So really, the chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting represented more than just a desire to devour delicious, chocolatey goodness: It’s a milestone in my budding baking life. The foundation has been laid, now it’s time to build the house.
Thanks cupcakes, you’re the best.
Love,
A
I’ll be frank: You’re not my favorite. The kale fad is overdone.
But nothing beats a good bowl of homemade kale chips. It’s idiot-proof so I know I can do it. Chop them up, toss in some olive oil, add some salt and pop them in the oven. If you’re like me, you put enough salt and oil so that the kale taste is barely there. OK kale, we can still be friends.
Love,
A