Entries Tagged as 'Sweet'

Lemon Poppyseed Cake

4

16.5.13

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Two years ago, when I bought my handy dandy Nikon D80, it changed everything I knew about photography. Yes, back then, I always used the Auto setting and consequently only had “accidentally” good photos, but still — the clarity and quality only made me want to be more creative.

It’s hard to think about Sweetsonian before the DSLR.

Or before I learned how to actually design a blog.

Lemon Poppyseed Cake

lemon cake

Lemon Poppyseed Cake

This recipe is one that I worked on years ago, when I first moved into that broken little group house on Decatur Place NW. I cooked so much — cooking was one of the many things I learned (taught myself) in that tiny little kitchen. Hardly suitable for dinner parties — we didn’t have a dining room — I hosted friends and running clubs in an awkward living room, or made dinners that I brought out to the balcony, which, aside from living with Kristen, was the highlight of the house.

Looking back on the original recipe I drafted, I have learned so much more about cooking in general. So, while the ingredients and measurements remain the same, the instructions required an upgrade.

The photos improved a bit, too.

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Lemon poppyseed cake recipe after the jump.

(more…)

Bacon Fat Gingersnaps

3

15.5.13

I’m a big fan of would-you-rathers.

Chalk it up to my at-times paralyzing indecisiveness, or penchant for the fanciful. There’s something refreshing and enjoyable about choosing between two completely impossible or painfully awkward alternatives.

Here’s a kicker for you–if you had to choose only one to eat for the rest of your life, would you choose bacon or sausage?

Someone posed that question to me at work today. Without even pausing to breathe, I answered, “Bacon. How is that even a question?”

(She’s a sausage girl, so needless to say, I think I left her a bit offended. I stand by my choice.)

I suppose that now would be as good a time as any to talk about my feelings towards meat. I can remember, with perfect saliency, the first time I bit into a cheeseburger. I was seventeen.

The meat tasted sharp, rich, slightly metallic and like a bit of a come to Jesus. Funny thought, coming from the mouth of a vegetarian.

I left that little morsel out. Until I was seventeen, I was a vegetarian. For anyone who knows me now, and has had the pleasure of witnessing me order steak frites, rare–this could come as quite a shock. I more or less avoided most forms of meat (which, when you think about the background I come from maybe a sheer miracle) for the bulk of my childhood. And one day, at the ripe old age of fourteen, I read Fast Food Nation from cover to cover and finally just put my foot down. My mother humored me, under the assumption that this would be just a phase.

This was not a phase.

I can’t remember ever actually missing the stuff. At that point in my life I had just phased meat out, so what was I really missing?

It turns out that my body had some other ideas in mind. After years of diligent research, careful dieting and copious amounts of iron supplements, I got a pretty direct talking-to from my doctor. Enough, she said, waving my iron count in my face. Words like severe anemia and chronic fatigue flew around the room, and after some ardent protest I ceded defeat.

And what was I really missing? The smell of sizzling bacon, apparently.

That first bite of an In-N-Out cheeseburger felt like a betrayal. I was angry with myself for giving in, the way so many angsty teenagers can be, and I was livid with my body for failing me. But it also felt…right. The meat melted in my mouth, warm against the crisp lettuce and fresh tomato. And just as soon as I’d started, I just couldn’t stop.

I’d like to say it’s been smooth sailing from that point forward, but let’s be honest. It took a good week for me to keep any form of animal protein down in my stomach, but I haven’t looked back since. Instead, I pay attention to what I put into my body, where it came from, how it was raised. I savor each bite that touches my lips.

And I can answer that would-you-rather honestly. Bacon, always.

This recipe provides the perfect solution for that excess ton or jar of bacon greases we’ve all accumulated at one point or another. When Sarah and I first stumbled upon it I think we were equal parts appalled and intrigued. There isn’t a lick of butter in it, and I can’t saying that miss it.

Seems to beg the question–would you rather?

Recipe after the jump.

Bacon Fat Gingersnaps, slightly adapted from Epicurious (more…)

Cucumber Ginger Fizz

2

08.5.13

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Right around this time of year, my general blah reaction to that second Sunday in the month of May is usually: Oh joy, another Mother’s Day.

I’ve never written to you about the relationship I had with my mother. It’s sadly, not the happiest of topics, but part of me wants to say that I hope that story is still unfinished, unfit for publishing. The truth is, I find myself more like my mother than I would like to admit.

I care too much about how people perceive me.

I hold grudges.

I am quick to judge.

And, contrary to popular belief, I do get angry.

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Most of me has spent my entire life fighting these tendencies to the point of grinding my teeth, as these tendencies were exposed to me in the worst of ways — and far too early in life. But at the same time, my mother, on several levels, is why I am unbearably stubborn, independent, and eager to feed those around me. Those traits have brought me more pleasure than pain, and for that, I am thankful.

Last week, Shaeda wrote about her grandmother’s hands. Like many of you out there, too, I have my mother’s hands. I am happy to have them.

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That being said, since I’ve moved to the East Coast, I’ve met so. many. wonderful. mothers. Mothers who have opened up their hearts and their homes, mothers who have cooked dinner and allowed me to cook for them, and mothers who don’t even live in D.C. but travel here regularly and enjoy catching up. They have transformed Mother’s Day from a wince and an eye roll, into something that I actually look forward to.

And as one of the daughters who had a more than troublesome time with her mother, I can say that I can definitely spot a good mother when I meet one. Here’s to Nancy, Eva, Susie, Clare, Norma, Mamie, Karol, Amy, and Beth — they’re the ones that come to my mind first. These ladies rock.

Whether your a mother or daughter, father or son, I hope you all have a glorious Mother’s Day.

As for me, well, I will probably be drinking this on Sunday. Lots and lots of this.

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Cucumber Ginger Fizz

Cucumber infused vodka — I’m a fan of the Square brand
Ginger Ale
Fresh limes
Cucumber

In a tall glass, squeeze a wedge of lime, and then muddle with a few slices of cucumber. Then, combine 2-3 oz. vodka with ginger ale (and club soda if you prefer your drinks on the drier side), and stir with ice.

Garnish with a lime, and hand one to your mom on a sunny patio.

Strawberries & Cream Icebox Bars

5

05.5.13

strawberries & cream bars

On any given spring day, I would normally advocate for eating fruit as-is. Especially strawberries — they are so sweet and pretty to begin with… so why mess with that?

On the other hand, strawberries were my favorite fruit growing up. I ate strawberry-flavored everything. Ice cream, frosting, cupcakes, you name it. It didn’t matter if they were real or artificial. I loved the flavor, and I loved that they turned everything pink.

Can you blame me?

strawberries & cream bars

I’ve gone through a transition over time, as we all have. I not only want to fit into my clothes, but I’ve wanted to eat more healthily. Fruit has enough sugar, right?

Well, on this Sunday Funday, we’re just going to take strawberries to the next level.

I found this recipe on Pinterest a while back, and I’ve been itching to make it ever since. I found that there was not nearly enough crumbles to make both the bottom and the top crusts, so I’ve doubled those measurements here.

strawberries & cream bars

Strawberries & Cream Icebox Bars, via Pip & Ebby

1/2 cup pecans, toaste
8 whole gram crackers, broken into pieces
1 cup butter, melted
2 cup flour
2/3 cup brown sugar

2 egg whites
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup whipping cream
Juice from 1 lemon
4 oz. cream cheese
2 cups diced strawberries

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

In a food processor, combine the pecans and graham crackers. Pulse-grind until uniformly mixed in a pretty, crumbly mix. Then, transfer to a large mixing bowl with the melted butter, flour and brown sugar. Mix with a fork, and spread out onto a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Pat down with your fingers to make one giant cookie (you’ll be crumbling this later). Try to keep it about 1/4 to 1/2-an inch thick.

Bake for 15 minutes, and remove to cool. Crumble into a bowl.

In your stand mixer, beat the egg whites until you have soft peaks. Then, gradually add the sugar and heavy cream. Beat for another 4 minutes, until the mixture is light. Beat in the lemon juice and cream cheese until evenly mixed, and then fold in the strawberries.

Line a 9×13 cake pan with parchment paper. Spread half of your cookie crumbles into the pan, coating the surface evenly. Then, pour your strawberries and cream mixture on top of the crust, using a spatula to spread the cream all the way to the edges. Sprinkle the remaining crumbs over the top, coating the cream entirely.

Let freeze for AT LEAST four hours, but preferably overnight. When fully frozen, slice with a very sharp knife, and wrap individually with plastic wrap or parchment paper. Distribute to your friends on a pretty spring day.

GUEST POST: Humpday Chocolate Cookies

6

24.4.13

Sous chef Shaeda, here. I’ve been sharing the same mixers and cutting boards with Sarah for a couple of weeks now, and when it came time to whip up some magic in the kitchen I knew exactly what we needed. And how.

It’s just one of those weeks.

There is a sense of heaviness to the air that isn’t normally here this time of year. Winter has been clinging to DC, as of late. The weight of my green wool coat has been replaced by something entirely different, but still present. It’s the feel of a firm palm, gently pressing down onto my shoulders.

It’s spring here, though. Finally.

Nothing is quite the way it’s supposed to be. You know what I mean. The type of week where you long for Friday so much you can taste the anticipation in the back of your mouth. Nothing went quite the way I wanted it to from the moment I opened my eyes on Monday. After an impromptu but much needed trip to the West Coast, jet lag and hours of travel got the best of me. I woke up late, and from that very moment seemed to just escape falling into that weekly rhythm. Left my carefully-packed lunch sitting on the marble counter; neglected to include the address on an itinerary I swore I’d meticulously checked over and over.

After the events in Boston last week, we received an all-too-real reminder of how short and fleeting life is. It’s very easy to get swept up in the day-to-day minutia, to forget that each breath is a gift, not a right. The sudden loss this week of someone dear to me has punctuated that fact to me.

As a child, I had this habit. When things weren’t particularly going the right way, I would turn into myself. I’m almost certain I wasn’t the first (or only) child to use this as a coping mechanism, but I would close my eyes and imagine myself somewhere wonderful. Some place where the air was fresh and full of hope.

As a adult, I’ve learned to keep my eyes open. Gone is the complacent dreamer of yesterday; she stands tall and proud. I’ve learned to confront my demons head on. If that’s not enough, if I still I feel that weight on my shoulder, I bake.

When I stepped into the kitchen this week, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I’d left the oven idle for too long. Whenever I feel remotely stressed or glum, I reach for this recipe. This recipe has watched me grow. It’s held my hand through stress, through heartbreak; its watched me blossom from an unsure eighteen and ushered me into the unknown. Over the years, its become my hallelujah, hail mary, and reason to breathe when life decides to give it me a little too hard, to dig just a bit too deep. This is something I can always do right.

Today will be a better day. On this Wednesday, I hope you’ll join me and give this recipe a shot. The balance of decadent chocolate and coarse salt will give you that extra push to make it to Friday. Try and limit yourself to eating just one–I dare you.

Humpday Chocolate Cookies, egregiously adapted from Martha Stewart

8 oz. semisweet chocolate, coarsely chopped
1 stick butter
3/4 teaspoon table salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
2/3 cup flour
1 and 1/3 cups brown sugar
1/3 cup white sugar
1 tsp vanilla extra
2 eggs
12 oz. chocolate chips of your choice
Sea salt for garnish (we used some Parisian grey salt)

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees. In a microwave safe bowl, combine the butter and the coarsely-chopped chocolate. Heat in 20 second spurts, stirring well until chocolate is almost completely combined. In a small bowl, combine the flour, salt and baking powder; set aside.

Combine the sugars, eggs and vanilla extract in the bowl of standing mixer fitted with the paddle attachment (or with a whisk, if your arm muscles can manage it) on low speed until light and fluffy. Add the melted chocolate until just combined, and then mix in dry ingredients. Once the flour mixture has incorporated, stir in the chocolate chips with a wooden spoon.

On a baking sheet lined with parchment paper, scoop a heaping tablespoon of the dough. Take care not to crowd the pan, as these puppies will expand. Bake for 12-15 minutes, until the tops glisten and crack. Sprinkle with grey salt while cooling. Note: you do not want these baked to a crisp. You’ll regret it.

One-Bowl Fudge Brownies

8

23.4.13

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These brownies didn’t last long at the office.

But let me tell you — they are sti-cky. So sticky that I had to freeze them overnight just to get them to cut relatively cleanly. But once you let them thaw, they just melt in your mouth. It’s a cross between brownies, fudge, and heaven.

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Last night, I had a few friends over for dinner. Some I see on the reg, but some I haven’t seen in what might have been months. It’s a shame how quickly time passes, sometimes.

I made these sandwiches, and the original plan was to picnic on the grass in Dupont Circle. But winter decided to make a comeback, so we decided to keep the dinner party inside.

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These brownies weren’t on the menu (because I baked and photographed them a week ago) but I felt the need to make this excuse to reiterate my love for the new apartment. What was on the menu for dessert, well, you’ll find out soon enough.

Short post today, as most of my creative juice is being vacuumed up by the never-ending craziness that comes with being the only graphics person at a government agency. The last-minute rush projects really do send me running out the door.

I hope your week is less crazy than mine is.

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One-Bowl Fudge Brownies, via Butter Me Up Brooklyn

3 ounces (85 grams) unsweetened chocolate, coarsely chopped
6 tablespoons (85 grams) unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
1/2 cup (100 grams) sugar
1/2 cup (110 grams) brown sugar, packed
2 eggs
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (62 grams) flour

Preheat oven to 350. Generously butter an 8×8 pan and line with two overlapping sheets of parchment paper. Butter the parchment and set aside.

In a heatproof bowl set over a pan of barely simmering water melt together the chocolate and butter, stirring occasionally, until smooth and completely melted. Turn off the heat and carefully remove the bowl (it will be hot!) from the pan of water and set it on a towel on your countertop.

Use a wooden spoon to stir in both sugars, then add the vanilla and salt and stir until combined. Add both eggs and mix until fully incorporated. Finally add the flour and stir vigorously until the batter is smooth and glossy.

Pour into the prepared pan and bake for 20-25 minutes. The brownies are done when a tester comes out with several crumbs attached (be sure to not overbake as a slightly underbaked brownie usually always wins). Let the brownies cool for several minutes then use the parchment to remove them from the pan. Slice n’ serve.

Lemon Cream & Blueberry Tart

2

17.4.13

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Swamped at the day job, folks.

Here’s a great spring recipe for you to try this weekend.

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Lemon Cream & Blueberry Tart

135 g unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1.5 tablespoons olive oil
4.5 tablespoons water
3/8 tablespoons salt
225 g flour

8 oz. mascarpone cheese
1 cup greek yogurt
zest and juice of 1 lemon
1 cup powdered sugar
1 cup fresh blueberries (or any berry of your choice)

This tart dough recipe belongs to David Lebovitz — it’s by far the best crust recipe I’ve found. Ever. I also just adore the story behind it.

Let’s begin. Preheat your oven to 410 degrees.

In an oven-safe dish, combine the butter, olive oil, water, and salt. When the oven hits 410 degrees, place the dish with your crust ingredients in the oven for 15 minutes — everything will boil together. Then, carefully remove the contents, stir with a fork, and slowly add in your flour. BE CAREFUL. It might splatter.

Once combined, press your dough into your tart pan. I like crusts on the thicker side, but use your judgment. I trust you.

Spear the bottom of the dough with a fork, and bake your tart shell for 15 minutes, until it’s a nice golden brown. Then, let cool completely.

In a stand mixer (or using a hand mixer), whip the marscapone cheese with the Greek yogurt, and then slowly incorporate the powdered sugar. Whip in the lemon zest and lemon juice until smooth.

Using a spatula, transfer your lemon cream into the tart shell. Smooth out the top, and throw some blueberries on there.

Plum and Marscapone Flatbread, Caramelized Balsamic Glaze

3

05.4.13

This might be my favorite set of photos yet.

A couple of weekends ago, Shaeda came over to spend an entire Sunday as my sous chef. The hands you see in these photos are hers. Aren’t they pretty?

I don’t think I can ever spend an entire day cooking without a sous chef ever again. Let me know if you’re interested, because an extra set of hands (and taste buds) in the kitchen really makes my life a lot easier.

Well, there is only one day and a handful of hours left in this old house. The movers are coming Saturday morning (or so they say…) and I’ll be picking up in an older building in an older, gayer neighborhood.

In usual Sarah-fashion, this week has been unfairly busy. One of my clients sent me their data about a week late, which threw my entire freelance calendar off, which gave me an unexpected week of freedom in exchange for a looming week of hell. Hell was this week.

But as the week winds down, I’ve found solace in pandemonium — mostly thanks to my Thursday yoga “meeting” at the Department of Energy gym. There’s something incredibly soothing about reserving one hour a week to not think about a to-do list or an annual review or a muddled mess of clients. One hour. Just sixty minutes of soothing concentration — on holding a pose, building strength, and personal growth.

At the moment, my life is in boxes. Not everything, but a good chunk of it.

At the moment, there are twelve boxes. There will probably be fifteen by this time Friday night.

But hopefully, Saturday will go smoothly, and I’ll be able to reinstate food blogger Sundays… albeit, from a new home.

Today, I’ll keep this short. I can’t deny exhaustion, but I just had to share this recipe and my favorite photos to date. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have. Happy Friday!

Plum and Marscapone Flatbread, Caramelized Balsamic Glaze, derived from Butter Me Up Brooklyn

Ingredients
1 package active yeast
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon coarse salt
3/4 cup warm water (might need more)
1 teaspoon oil

2 ripe plums, sliced thinly (preferably with a mandolin)
4 to 6 oz. marscapone cheese
Cornmeal, for dusting the crust
Fresh basil, sliced

1/2 cup balsamic vinegar
1 tablespoon honey
2 tablespoons brown sugar

Combine yeast, sugar, flour, salt, and water in the bowl of your stand mixer. Using the dough hook, knead on medium until the ingredients form an elastic, smooth dough. That should take about ten minutes. Once that happens, cover the dough in the olive oil, place a kitchen towel over the bowl, and let the dough sit for an hour or so.

Roll the dough out on a clean surface — I kept it to about 1/2 an inch thick. Dust with cornmeal.

Heat your oven’s broiler.

Using a spatula, spread the marscapone on the crust, covering as much as you can. Then, arranged the plum slices, and be careful to not put too much fruit in any particular area. Too much will make your flatbread soggy. With a pastry brush, lightly coat the plums in olive oil.

Broil the flatbread for about 8 minutes, until the crust is crisp. Then, crack the oven door, and switch the oven to bake at 350 degrees. Let the flatbread bake for another 8 to 10 minutes, and then remove the sheet from the oven.

In a small saucepan, combine the balsamic, honey, and sugar. Reduce over medium heat until syrupy.

Top the flatbread with sliced basil, and drizzle with the balsamic glaze.

Marscapone Pound Cake with Whipped Cream and Balsamic Strawberries

6

26.3.13

There are a few good reasons why I let myself fall into freelance black holes.

The most obvious is, on several levels, financial. Freelancing = more money. More money = less debt, nicer things, and sometimes, slightly less anxiety. When I dedicate a weekend to freelance, I cloister myself. I seal my bedroom door and plug in my head phones, and I get. shit. done.

When I spend a Friday night freelancing, I chug water and green tea. I go to sleep only when I’m satisfied with the progress I’ve made, so my sleep is sound. I reward myself by silencing my phone and not setting an alarm. And when I wake up refreshed that Saturday morning, I sip my French press coffee while putting on make up and getting dressed.

Getting dressed and made up for a working weekend is key… because whether I spend my day designing from bed or designing from Ebenezer’s, that Saturday is a day of work. I am a creature of habit. There are certain things I need to do to prepare myself for a day of work, be it at home or at the Energy Department. And this ritual is one part physical, one part psychological.

Freelancing, I’ve learned, is not for everyone. It’s not easy, and there are days and nights and weeks at a time where I feel myself slipping into a state of anxiety — an antsiness that transcends stir crazy.

There are times when I absolutely love it. Like when I was in Los Angeles for Christmas vacation, on the phone with Google from my parents’ dining table, sipping a cup of coffee from one hand, and scratching the floppy ears of my family’s grumpy yellow lab with the other. On days when I have only one job, when my makeshift office is cozy, and I have a dog under my arm — yes, those are the days. I envision my future exactly like that. One job, working from home, with a dog. Am I a grown-up yet?

Then, there are times when I’m an absolute crazy person. I’m overbooked, I say “yes” to too many projects, I have a full load of creative work at the Department, and friends celebrate birthdays over the course of entire weekends. Those days. Those days make me want to curl into a variation of the fetal position, preferably in my bathtub while periodically sitting up to swig Bulleit straight from the bottle.

The depressing part is that when I find myself so stressed out that the only mode of comfort is a bubble bath and a Manhattan, there usually isn’t time to calm down. Too much stress, too little time.

But since 2013 began, I’ve been trying to take care of myself. To treat myself better. I work hard. I love my job(s). And I’ve taken a good hard look at several areas of my life. I’ve made goals and priorities. Three months ago, I wrote on this blog that 2013 would be my year. I wanted 2013 to be your year, too.

It’s quarter-end. In the same way that I review my tax information and prepare forms and files for record-keeping and for completing my civic transaction as a tax payer, looking back on the past three months has only magnified how much my life has changed. How incredibly different my life is. What a different place I’m in, and what a different person I’ve become. Hopefully, for the better.

Mindy and I were discussing 2013. How 2013 ~~would be~~ is my year, and how 2013 ~~would be~~ is hers.

For both of us, 2012 started off in the dumps. And then, little by little, things started to change. It started with a new job, and just trickled into every aspect of our lives.

So this spring, I’m taking a look at 2013 and checking in on my goals. Take better care of yourself. Floss your teeth. Invest in skincare. Sleep in. Drink less.

Spend time with the people you care about most, and make time for those who stood by you through thick and thin. And remember where you came from, because when you needed help, someone came to the rescue. And someday, you’re going to be the rescuer.

In the end, we are all creatures of habit. We have rituals before we go to bed, and rituals after we wake up. Those habits are not instinctive; you train yourself with repetition, and the action becomes part of your every day life, and part of your whole self. The things you say and the things you do over and over again are the things that will define who you think you are, and how the world interprets your own well-being.

Breaking bad habits is an art form in itself: unbelievably both simple and complex in nature, but not lacking in any psychological depth. If you bite your nails, sleep in your make up, or simply have issues being honest with yourself and with the people you love, break it. Do whatever it takes to break those habits — even if it means taking the babiest of baby steps. Love yourself, and make every decision a good one, if anything, out of self respect.

I’m going to say this one more time. Repeat after me: this — 2013 — is my year.

Recipe after the jump. (more…)

Entries Tagged as 'Sweet'

Lemon Poppyseed Cake

4

16.5.13

Bacon Fat Gingersnaps

3

15.5.13

Cucumber Ginger Fizz

2

08.5.13

Strawberries & Cream Icebox Bars

5

05.5.13

GUEST POST: Humpday Chocolate Cookies

6

24.4.13

One-Bowl Fudge Brownies

8

23.4.13

Lemon Cream & Blueberry Tart

2

17.4.13

Plum and Marscapone Flatbread, Caramelized Balsamic Glaze

3

05.4.13

Marscapone Pound Cake with Whipped Cream and Balsamic Strawberries

6

26.3.13

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