For a blog called DailyWaffle, there are few actual waffle recipes in these pages. It's not for lack of consumption. The truth?
Waffles rarely stick around long enough in our kitchen…
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Recipes
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It only takes a few lost Sundays to put you off one drink or another. There's a reason people snicker knowingly at, "One margarita, two margarita, three margarita, floor." In college, one too many cheap, bowl-sized glasses of sangria put it on my list of top hangover-inducing beverages, right behind bottom-shelf margaritas and Long Island Iced Teas. It'd been a long time since I'd had sangria, and even longer since I’d had good sangria. Until La Condesa.
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While I’ve been waiting for stone fruit to really come in full force, I’ve been baking cookies. It started with some gluten-free peanut butter oat cookies from this month’s mailer from PCC, our local market. Then, the Spice Cookies from Jerusalem. Now, Cowboy Cookies…oats, pecans, chocolate chips, a little coconut. This time, with olive oil instead of butter. There are worse ways to pass the time.21
As soon as it gets gorgeous out, the first thing you want to do is whip the cover off the grill and throw on some burgers and dogs. But what about after that? With a stretch of nice days its easy to run through your usual grilling repertoire and run out of ideas. So why don't we do a little island-inspired grilled chicken? Pineapple Passion Fruit Glazed Chicken we first made during our trip to Kaua'i in February.
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My love for hot cross buns is well documented in the pages of this blog. But I only ever seem to think of them around Easter, when really, there’s no reason we shouldn’t be enjoying sweetened yeast buns with just a hint of spice, currants and candied fruit any ol’ time. Which is what made these Spice Cookies my first choice for this month’s baking theme for Tasting Jerusalem.
You get the flavors of hot cross buns, the spice, the currants, the citrus in cookie form. And while it may seem slightly odd to be making spice cookies in the spring, because the truth is they do taste like the holidays, I couldn’t resist.
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Rhubarb is perpetually stuck in the Friend Zone, like that friend you’ve known your whole life, but you just didn’t see him that way. Every spring, rhubarb kicks off farmers market season in the Pacific Northwest, but all you have eyes for are the asparagus and peas. Last week at the market, I snapped a few photos of rhubarb but otherwise passed it by. Then, with a nudge from Hannah’s rhubarb cranachan (think oaty rhubarb jam parfait) over at Blue Kale Road, I put this crazy red celery-looking fruit on the shopping list.
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As you drive north on the 5 through the Central Valley, the interstate is dotted with fast food joints and truck stops and the occasional restaurant advertising “Chinese-American” food. In all the times I’ve done that drive, we have never stopped and I always sort of assumed that they were covering their bases, that Chinese-American food meant they served both chow mein and say, hamburgers.
My first experiences with Chinese-American food were either in a strip mall or in a cramped restaurant with yellowing walls in downtown LA. The order was always the same whether we were unpacking a brown sack of red and white take-out boxes or gathered around a big Lazy Susan for a post-funeral eat your feelings. As an only child you reach an age in life where it seems like there is a lot of Chinese food happening. I sometimes worry that the second round isn’t too many years away.21