Just a couple of weeks ago, I was lamenting the end of summer. Something about back-to-school signals an end to the summer fun, but the truth of it is, it has been a grrrrrrrreat summer in Seattle. Maybe the best one we’ve had in the handful of years we’ve lived here. A long summer of…
The back to school stuff is going in Target, heralding the end of the summer. Soon enough it'll be time for backpacks and lunchboxes and binders, but before we give ourselves over to F-A-L-L, it's time to worship at the altar of the Hatch chile. Last summer I froze 25 pounds worth and it looks like I was pretty stingy in doling out the chiles over the year since I still have several bags in the freezer. But there's nothing like fresh roasted, and stores across the country are already breaking out their roasters with events starting this weekend.
A couple of weeks ago on the Splendid Table, LA Times Food Editor Russ Parsons wrote, “The thing that's really great about this book is that he takes what might seem familiar and just throws a twist on it. When you cook it, it's an act of exploration because you're doing things that you know, the ingredients are fairly familiar, the techniques are fairly familiar, and then boom, there's this very new and exciting result that really makes you want to cook more into it.”
He was talking about < Ottolenghi's PlentyHow many times have you moved as an adult? Me, 11 times. It’s never fun, and it gets worse, the older you get. Once, early on when I moved from LA to the Bay Area, I shipped a bunch of stuff by mail. Moving by mail is not a great idea. Unless you want to buy all new stuff. Then finally there comes a time when there’s no more rounding up friends with promises of beer and pizza. You just bite the bullet and hire movers. After 11 moves, I can’t believe some of the things that have made the trek. I’ve been looking for a peach pit ring that my grandpa carved, at least that’s how I remember it. I'm convinced I have it somewhere. And I can’t find it.
It’s time to dust off your ice cream maker, don’t you think? Memorial Day is behind us, it’s unofficially summer and it’s been sweltering back East. Even Seattle is kicking off a run of sunny, beautiful, sit-on-the-deck kind of days. Days that demand ice cream. Around here, we don’t let weather dictate our ice cream…
We’re in the dog days of summer, finally. Days so hot all you want to do is sit in front of an oscillating fan and sip a cool glass of iced tea. Days so hot nothing is getting cooked, except you in your car on the commute home. I’ve got something for you. It’s cool, crisp and refreshing. It’s….a sandwich. Well, a dip and a sandwich. Break out the food processor, we’re making edamame hummus, which you can do as dip for dinner with veg and pita chips, or as a great spread on sandwiches for the “Damn, could it get any hotter?” nights ahead.
Are you always the last to know? I feel that way about sour cherries. Did everyone else already know how good, how different they are from regular sweet cherries? Why did no one tell me?
Our pie cherry week(s) (season is too long to actually describe it) finally arrived in Seattle, I know most everyone else had their go in June and pie cherries are but a distant memory at this point. But with only one shot with them, I split the difference and made a sour cherry compote and a coffee cake. And now we know who’s been hoarding all the pie cherries, because I thought, “OMG – it really does taste like canned cherry pie filling!”Something about pie dough scares me. I’m forever not rolling it to the right thickness or into shapes that resemble a rhombus rather than a circle. It’s ironic, because when it comes to eating pie, I love a double crust. But if pie making is a drug, this strawberry and lemon curd pie is a Nilla wafer and saltine cracker gateway drug. Yes, I said SALTINES. You’re in, right? So let’s go.
In FoodBlogLand, everything is well lit and screen-lickingly delicious. All dishes are successes and a minor misstep can be saved with a well-placed garnish or a sauce. But in the real world, sometimes things just don’t turn out the way you expect. I could let this custard melt back to its former state (which would take less than 5 minutes) and call it a shoyu caramel milkshake, but I’m not gonna do it. It was meant to be ice cream and it just didn’t freeze into anything that would hold a remotely scoop-like shape. It just didn’t.
The caramel flavor is strong, the consistency is creamy with the elasticity you associate with caramel,but you just can’t lick it off a cone. But even in this beautiful disaster there’s a win – the caramel sauce.
Drinks named after celebrities seem to belong to a bygone era. One of the thrills of going out to dinner with my parents when I was little was ordering a Shirley Temple. With its delicate pink hue and a maraschino cherry floating on top, a Shirley Temple made you feel like one of the grownups. I think I even ordered one at dinner before junior prom. Today, if I ordered a Roy Rogers or an Arnold Palmer, I expect most people would know what I was after without explanation. But some where along the line, drinks named after celebrities fell out of favor. Can you imagine ordering a George Clooney, a Justin Bieber, or a Tiger Woods?
The idea for this raspberry spritzer started as a spin on a Shirley Temple, which I’ve always thought of as 7-up and grenadine, but Wikipedia claims the soda is actually ginger ale. Made with a fresh raspberry syrup brightened by lemon, this spritzer is sweet but not cloying. And yes, it takes 3 half-pints of berries, but it’ll put any Italian soda made with bottled syrup to shame.
