plum is yum

A simple snack of my favorite plum chutney, cream cheese, and Carr's. I buy a few jars of chutney every year at the Appleton Farm stand at my high school's Christmas bazaar. Chutney is one of those things that sounds so rewarding to make but I know I'm never going to. I'm fine with sticking with small-batch, local (they're based in Middleburg, VA), and commercial. At some point I'll have to try Virginia Chutney Co.'s version, too. The makers were featured in the Washington Post last August and the article really paints such a quaint picture of chutney-making. Sounds like a plum life.

daily servings of fruit

After an enormous, heart rate-accelerating, food coma-inducing meal at our favorite Mexican restaurant (all I had was a taco with beans and rice...and at least a pound of chips with salsa and queso and guac...and a margarita), the whole family went home for dessert made from scratch by my brother. We should have just cut to the chase and skipped dinner - that's how delicious dessert was. Check it: Lime Pie: Not to be confused with Key Lime Pie. I might prefer regular limes. They lent a slightly tangier bite, especially as my brother had included their zest in the custard. So, so good and refreshing. You know what they say - a slice a day keeps the scurvy away. Banana Cream Pie with Bourbon Caramel Sauce: He hadn't had quite enough time to let it set but I loved its ooziness. We decided it would be perfect in ramekins as a sort of miniature trifle. I have to admit, I drizzled some of the leftover sauce onto my finger, straight from the saucepan, several times. The graham crust and whipped cream for both pies were homemade, too. Funfetti Cookies: Last and decidedly least, my contribution. The kids loved them, of course, but they were plebeian amongst the desserts that actually took time and thought and effort. It's probably for the best that I stick to simpler, boxed sweets. The last and only time I tried to make crack pie, this is what happened: Speaking of pie, this place recently opened in Georgetown. I have yet to go but I think my brother could give them a run for their money.

viaje al sur

 

La Creperie, Key West, Florida
December 2010
The lady sitting behind us while we ate banana and lime juice crepes asked for a glass of wine with her breakfast. Either she has a problem or she's a really cool lady. 

Fort Zachary Taylor Historic State Park, Key West, Florida
December 2010
We went unprepared for beach-going so we strolled the grounds instead.
 

Hawks Cay Resort, Duck Key, Florida
December 2010
Home of the best damned pina colada-rum runner combo I've ever had.

All photos by me. 

a review

I literally just finished reading Laura Hillenbrand's Unbroken. Excellent stuff, even if I'm more than a year behind the publishing date. A note up front: It's funny how e-readers draw out books. Mine turned the already lengthy bound version (496 pages) into 947 e-pages, including the preface and epilogue. Frankly, I feel doubly proud of myself, having flicked my finger across twice as many pages as hard copy readers did. Talk about endurance. The content and writing carried me through to the end quite quickly, though, and it was an incredibly worthwhile read. It not only focuses on the Pacific arena in WWII, which I personally believe is often overlooked in favor of the European one, it literally drills down to the quotidian lives of actual soldiers, with their specific roles, ailments, memories, which are, usually necessarily, generalized and summed up in history textbooks. Upon reading Laura Hillenbrand's acknowledgements and bio, I was prompted to Google her referenced illness and learned that she has suffered from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome since college. For a book that clearly was researched meticulously and basically is an enormous string of facts and figures layered atop Louie Zamperini's life, it's striking that an author who is home-bound had the energy to do it all. Here's another stat I find bewildering and a testament to its reach and relevance: Unbroken has 2,049 Amazon reviews and counting. Well-deserved, in my book. And last but not least, Louie Zamperini is one precious old man. He'll probably get himself into trouble in Heaven for playfully pilfering angels' wings but it won't really matter because he's Louie Zamperini.

we're flying first class

For a hefty $9.95 at none other than DSW, I picked up this brilliantly garish, embroidered bronze pleather passport holder that will be perfect for a certain friend's birthday this summer. I was only there to look for shoes to wear with my bridesmaid dress but sometimes a second bird presents itself unexpectedly and you've got to be ready to make efficient use of your stone. Pop the champagne, as Fergie would say.

macaRONGH

The title of this post is my Spanish major's interpretation of how the French pronounce macaron, the bite-size almond powder confections that crumble under the slightest pressure and whose customization is limitless. In a way, they have the allure and preciousness of porcelain...or something. I've been obsessed with macarons for some time now and it's certainly not my little secret. Macarons are everywhere. I purched several of the little gems by Pierre Herme at Selfridges last February (and took great, great care with them on the flight home, only to find that their tolerance for transatlantic flights is low). I'm now obsesses with Pierre Herme's packaging, too. Martha is on top of the trend. And I've been licking my chops over Lola's Room's photographs. There's even a war of integrity being fought over the macaron, with McDonald's challenging the very essence of French culture by offering them to the masses. I suggest McDonald's change their company motto to "Screw your elitism - we're just trying to pay our bills". If only the little dears knew what a stir they've caused. As for their taste, they're sweet but not too sweet. The flavors are limitless, though, in my opinion, rarely do you taste much other than almond and sugar since the filling is generally so stingy - but I'm okay with that. I decided a few months ago that macarons rolled in cellophane and cinched with ribbon like little hard candies would make divine wedding favors. Impatient to wait for my own wedding, I decided to move forward with the idea for my future sister-in-law's bridal shower favors. I considered making them myself but I required between 60 and 90 of them and the process is precarious - the whipping, the altitude, the fineness of the ingredients - so outsourcing quickly became the best option. I counted on getting them for 50 cents a piece (cheap!) through my local Wegman's bakery but inexplicably, the week before the shower, they told me they'd been directed not to make them anymore about a week before I called. Great. Last minute dash to find macarons, which frankly wasn't hard to do, these days. I quickly called Patisserie Poupon, whose owner (Laura?) and staffer Martin were extremely helpful in sending me a pic of their assortment, offering me little plastic bags gratis, and being so nice and responsive to my million questions about size, color, and flavor. I love wax paper. It's so milky and sweet and smooth and hides imperfections, like a veil. (Perhaps that's why brides wear them? Yikes.) Almond. And a peek of the chocolat. Precisely 60 macarons, 30 bags, and 30 bits of yellow ribbon later, we had our favors. Yum! Image 1 - Lola's Room

the picture of dorian gray

This is the wreath I made tonight as a donation to the Relay For Life silent auction--The Picture of Dorian Gray, part II (part I was a wreath for my friend's birthday). I decided not to fill the inner space with anything as I've seen some people do on Etsy. I rather like the unfinished look. The legs of the ribbon should be wider apart (that's what she said?) but otherwise it turned out just dandy (a bit like Mr. Wilde). It is an inexpensive and easy thing to make that I hope will raise some good $$$ to go toward delivering cancer a swift kick in the rear.

the earl

Today, upon Lent's end, I finally broke out my three-week-old but as yet unused Cuisinart ice cream maker. The inaugural flavor: Earl Grey. The result: Quite delicious but texturally off. I ended up doubling Mac & Cheese's recipe in order to fill my 2-quart maker. The recipe itself is easy as pie, though, frankly, almost any pie is going to be more complicated than this ice cream. I started out warming whole milk, half and half, and sugar in a saucepan until very warm and until the sugar had dissolved. Then I dunked in ten bags of decaf Earl Grey and let them steep for close to an hour. I was starting to get a little impatient as dessert was only a couple hours away but you do want to give the steeping process time. It ended up being just enough - the ice cream was aromatic and sweet with the taste of black tea and bergamot but still subtle and milky. The Earl Grey cream was ladled into a big mixing bowl in which I'd already whisked ten egg yolks. I returned the mixture to the saucepan and heated it on medium. By whisking nearly constantly, the mixture was supposed to turn custard-y. At this point I was even more impatient to get it off the burner and allow it to cool so it wasn't quite as viscose as custard but it had definitely thickened. Then I tapped my foot for about 45 minutes, waiting for the stuff to cool. This is where the process went slightly awry. Well, maybe not awry so much as curtailed to the point of regret. Though the recipe didn't call for it, I really should have chilled - not just cooled but chilled, like in the fridge - the custard (if you could even call it that) before pouring it into my faithfully chilled ice bucket. In any case, in it went, just above lukewarm in temperature, and on went the machine for about 30 minutes, at the end of which my ice cream had the consistency of a Wendy's Frosty. Despite putting the ice cream in the freezer until it was absolutely necessary to serve it, it starting to melt pretty quickly after spooning on top of my meringue nests. (I considered using the ten egg whites to make my own - an efficient way to make the vehicle for your ice cream - but I didn't have parchment paper or superfine sugar and I already had meringues from Balducci's so unfortunately the egg whites went to waste.) The end result was perfect in terms of color (it reminded me of tea-stained paper, Belgian linen, and the muted wood floors of that tea house in Prague) and taste (though next time I'd hold back a little bit on the sugar to make it even more understated). The texture most definitely wasn't like typical store-bought ice cream or even fresh gelato. The Wendy's Frosty is the perfect comparison. I'm confident that what's left of it will firm up in the freezer overnight and that next time chilling the custard will curb somewhat the defrosting that begins as soon as you take the ice bucket out of the freezer. I get the feeling that texture is a common issue with ice cream makers, especially for newcomers. In a way, that's part of the charm. With that, the Summer of Frozen Sweet Cream commences. Next up is cinnamon. Fresh strawberry and peach (individually) are definitely on the agenda, as are lavender and macha/green tea. I've lived and learned that patience and refrigeration are key virtues. My next question is how to make my ice cream healthier but as a diet foods hater I suspect that if I want to cut down on the cholesterol I'll have to turn to sorbet because healthy, tasty ice cream is an oxymoron.

a good southern breakfast

Ruth Ann's, Columbus, GA. Occasion: Valentine's Day, 2011. Health Factor: None. Deliciousnous: Mmm. (That's a roger.) First and foremost, fried pickles. A little heavy for breakfast (well, brunch) but I have trouble denying myself when it comes to fried vegetables (or dough, or cheese, or poultry). Next up, red velvet pancakes, racked and stacked. Cream cheese drizzle - check. Whipped cream - as you can see. Chocolate chips - they're all there. The whole spread. Pickles and hotcakes. Country ham (solitary on a plate with jous on the side) and biscuits and sausage gravy. Sweet tea (unpictured) to refresh the palate. Amen. Image 1: www.ruthannsrestaurant.net

i gained 20 lbs. during my semester abroad off of these

Palmeritas (little palms, also known as elephant ears in the United States and palmiers in France) were a huge weakness of mine during my semester abroad en Espanya way back when (relatively). I used to pick up a dozen of the light, flaky, sweet, buttery cookies from the bakery at the Mas y Mas supermercado and hide them in the drawer of my nightstand so that the abuelita I lived with wouldn't know I was eating outside of the meals she cooked for me. Living abroad in someone else's home and being an imperfect Spanish speaker, I felt little control over my life and so I resorted to a sugary way to make and implement my own decisions. Galletas. Cookie upon cookie, day after day. By the end of my five months there, Donya Rosa told me my shirts had gotten quite tight around my chest and belly and advised me not to eat so much dessert (this was in the context of having a banana after lunch - hardly a postre to me - had she found my stash of sweets?). I returned home and shed the excess weight but my love of palmeritas stayed put. I've used the below recipe, adapted a bit (i.e., more sugar) from Epicurious, ever since I returned Stateside. Shall we begin?

First, thaw a package of square puff pastry sheets (generally two to a box). The dough needs to be room temp so it's pliable. Also, preheat your oven to 400F.

Sprinkle a thin, even-ish coating of granulated sugar (add a little cinnamon if you wish) over a flat surface. Lay down one of the pastry sheets; sprinkle sugar on top. Press the sugar into the dough a bit with your fingers to make sure it's embedded enough to stick.

Gently fold one side over to reach the midway point of the dough. Do the same with the other side to create a narrow vertical opening in the center. The dough should now be half as wide as when you started.

Repeat this process, folding each side into the center of the dough so that the width of the dough is a quarter of it's original size.

Roll the two sides together, along the same vertical crease, so that you have a log shape.

Carefully slice across the log in about 1/4-in. increments to create the individual cookies.

Press the palmeritas in a small pile of extra sugar so they're coated all around.

Arrange on a baking sheet, leaving enough room for them to puff peacefully.

Bake at 400F for 12 minutes, flip, and finish in the oven for about 5 minutes more.

Hay que lindas! The palmeritas will be half chewy, half crispy once they've cooled. Expect a little caramelization, which adds to the chewiness. Reduce the sugar if you don't enjoy this browning.