Entries Tagged as 'cookies'

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…)

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.

Chocolate Hearts with Espresso Cream Filling

9

24.1.13

8402797185_01209902a1_z

With Valentine’s Day coming up, I thought a cute love story would be appropriate.

Clearly, it doesn’t involve me. It’s about my grandparents, who are just as madly in love today as the day they met.

8402796637_075cd72f33_z

One night while I was in California, my grandparents hosted a birthday dinner for my dad. I made this cake.

Anyway, I convinced my grandparents to let me film them telling the story of how they met. If you have 9 minutes to spare watching this video, I suggest you do. It’s quite a cute story.

Anyway, I’ve been looking for an excuse to let that story out.

And, with Valentine’s Day just a few weeks away, I must turn to the mother of all dessert ingredients: chocolate.

My love affair with chocolate goes back a long way.

Aside from wishing I could sustain a diet almost entirely of chocolate, I loved it so much that I even based my high school speech class on the history and processing of chocolate. Yes, I stood behind a podium, in front of 30 teenagers, speaking for ten minutes… about chocolate.

I sure hope they remember something from that.

8402795757_1bf19a9f88_z 8403888714_1681ec500c_z

I spent years as an international development geek, so when Divine Chocolate contacted me and asked me to write a post or two using their chocolate, I was ecstatic.

Divine Chocolate is a fair trade company that works with women in Ghana, a country that boasts the title of second largest cocoa exporter in the world. With the liberalization of Ghana’s cocoa market in the 1990s, one woman saw an opportunity to organize the cocoa farmers whose voices were not being heard (this hits so closely to what my last employer did that you’d think I’d deny its coincidence).

In this recipe, I used their cocoa powder — the cookies came out perfectly. And the packaging was so well-designed!

Try not to lick the screen.

8403890684_64eb65d163_z (more…)

Salted Chocolate Chip Cookies

3

10.9.12

There are few things I love more than I love salt. There are few things that I love without salt — or any sort of seasoning.

Tomatoes. Avocado. Watermelon. Toast. Pasta.

Chocolate.

Salt enhances the basics. Like my friend Angela says, salt is the one thing that makes everything else taste more like itself.

In my earlier days as a semi-serious runner, I quickly discovered the consequences of electrolyte imbalances in your system. The three main ones you need are sodium, potassium, and magnesium. Deficiencies or imbalances between the three, combined with dehydration, caused excruciating side stitches for me — and my uncle taught me to keep bananas and magnesium supplements close by.

Sodium, well, we generally get a little too much of that in our diets as Americans.

Too much, yes, I guess there is such thing as too much sodium. But that doesn’t really stop me.

The combination of saltiness and sweetness when you salt chocolate is a flavor unlike any other I know — the chunks of salt accentuates the sugar in the chocolate. It’s crack-like. Not that I know what crack is like.

Knowing I am easily addicted to activities and substances, I should walk with caution. But for everyone else’s benefit, apply salt generously.

Salted Chocolate Chip Cookies, adapted from the New York Times recipe

Ingredients
2 cups minus 2 tablespoons cake flour
1 and 2/3 cups bread flour
1 and 1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1 and 1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1 and 1/2 teaspoon salt
2 and 1/2 sticks unsalted butter
1 and 1/4 cups granulated sugar
1 and 1/4 cups light brown sugar
2 large eggs
t teaspoons vanilla extract
1 and 1/4 pounds milk chocolate chunks or chips
1 cup coarsely chopped pecans

Coarse sea salt (pictured: Parisian gray salt) for garnish

Instructions

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Using a stand mixer, cream the butter and sugars with the whipping attachment, until light and fluffy. Add each egg one by one, and then combine the vanilla extract.

In a separate mixing bowl, combine your dry ingredients: both flours, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Whisk until evenly mixed.

Add the dry ingredients slowly to the butter and sugar mixture — I broke the batch into thirds, making sure each third of the dry ingredients was fully incorporated before adding the next third.

With a wooden spoon or spatula, mix in the chocolate chunks and the pecans by hand.

Roll the dough into 1.5 inch pieces, and give a few inches between each piece on your baking sheet for spreading. Sprinkle a few chunks of your salt on each cookie. Bake for 15 to 20 minutes, until the edges are a golden brown.

Snow Dusting, and Snowflake Cookies

6

16.12.10

I complained a lot about last winter. I really did.

In retrospect, I would take it all back. That’s not to say that it hasn’t been horribly cold for the past few days. The cold bites. It chills me to the bone, and I walk to and from work every day. But I’d take this, any day, over a DC summer. I am elated to not be sweating in front of my air conditioner amidst extreme humidity (for four, arguably five, months). I revel in actually needing my down comforter. And I’m wild about snow.

But for as much as I love and appreciate winter, I’ve never been a huge fan of what we know as the “Christmas spirit.” I grew up in one of those neighborhoods that over-decorates, and is ridden with cars and teenagers selling hot chocolate on the street, with children hanging out of SUV windows in gridlock as they drove by my parents’ minimally decorated ranch-style home. I’m actually not a fan of Christmas decorations, most holiday songs, or shopping. I shudder at the thought of buying a Christmas tree as a young adult, for which my friends call me a Grinch. But the holidays are worth so much more — spending time with the people you care about, and new beginnings. Well, maybe the new beginnings aspect is unique from my perspective, considering it was around the holiday season last year when I began to feel settled in Washington. The holidays are about what cold weather makes us want to do: stay warm, inside, with our friends and family.

While I was in college, my family decided to cut back on the presents aspect of Christmas. For the young kids, it was okay to get gifts upon gifts, but for the adults, it was pointless and just too extravagant. We set a $10 limit on Christmas presents, which basically turned the Gerrity Christmases into giant wine exchanges (fine by me). Even with the little kids, the big presents never seemed to be their favorites; a couple of years ago, I bought my little brother, who is now six years old, a blinking red reindeer nose. It cost me two dollars, and won the prize for best gift overall. Kevin refused to take off the nose for days and days after Christmas, which keeps reminding me that gift-giving isn’t about getting what you want — it’s about finding ways to make the people around you feel loved.

Yesterday, we got a little bit of snow in Washington. Nothing big, just a little dusting. I was in my kitchen, of course, when I noticed it outside — the light pollution in my neighborhood gives the sky a seductive violet glow, and the falling snow just settles itself onto the balcony, the railing, and my bike. With the clothes dryer and the oven going, our window panes fog up along the ceiling. It was just charming.

Since this is just my second winter, I stood in my kitchen and compared it to last winter. And after I baked these snowflake cookies, I watched the snow fall outside my bedroom window as I read a book. I felt at home. Winter is finally here, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Candied Lemon Florentines

7

23.11.10

Let’s be honest. I’m not Julia Child. I’m a baker, maybe on the borderline of pastry chef. I could be more of a Martha. But she’s no Julia Child. Which is perhaps why her recipe for chicken liver pate was an absolute disaster. I’m not talking about a kitchen explosion, a hot mess, or some catastrophic mishap — the pate was just bland. Not good. Meh.

Perhaps I remember pate tasting much better than it actually did. But then again, this was more than two years ago, when a Frenchman brought pate to my Westwood apartment for a graduation celebration. I do trust the French when it comes to food. After all, that same Frenchman lit crepes doused in rum on fire in my kitchen. Perhaps that pate was duck and not chicken, or perhaps it had a different array of spices. But lesson learned: I will never use this recipe again. It was… gross. And the worst part of all had nothing to do with the taste of it, or the fact that I’ll never get that hour of my life back. It was that, after all the effort, it didn’t even look pretty. It’s actually very ugly, and I am still very bitter that I man-handled bloody chicken livers for ten minutes in complete vain. I guess that’s one of the reasons why I love baking so much; even if it tastes like dirt, you can find some way to make it look pretty. And it usually tastes pretty good. I’m a huge fan of icing, which can make almost anything taste like heaven. Or chocolate. It’s pretty much heaven by itself.

This past weekend, my house threw our annual cookie “rager.” It’s our twenty-something yuppie version of a traditional cookie exchange, which involves massive amounts of cookies, sangria, and dancing. More than forty people were crammed into our little townhouse like dancing sardines. There was even couch dancing for the sake of space. It actually reminded me of one of my favorite movie scenes — the party scene in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Anyway, it was satisfying to see many of the people that I can hardly keep in touch with between classes and running — and, I recruited a few new running buddies. It was only appropriate to talk up fitness at a cookie rager as everyone plowed through pounds of cookies and booze.

These were my cookies — candied lemon florentines. My office benefitted from the leftovers this morning. It took all of twenty minutes for them to disappear from the coffee room.

WHAT YOU NEED:

1/2 cup unsalted butter
2/3 cup sugar
1/2 cup whipping or heavy cream
4 tablespoons sifted cake flour
1 cup finely chopped candied citrus peel
1 cup ground almond flour
1 cup sliced almonds

WHAT TO DO:

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

In a large saucepan, melt the butter.

Slowly stir in the sugar and the heavy cream over high heat, until the mixture boils.

Then, remove from heat and stir in the flour, citrus peel, almond flour, and almonds. Mix well.

Prepare a cookie sheet with parchment paper, and drop batter in round, 1-tablespoon measurements, leaving a few inches between each one. If you have silicone cupcake or florentine molds, that would work even better than the parchment paper — I’m just too poor to buy those right now! So parchment paper will have to do.

Place the cookies in the oven, and let them bake for 10-15 minutes. The time really depends on how crispy you would like your florentines. I, personally, prefer them light and on the chewy side. But the longer you leave them in, the crunchier and darker they will be.

The batter spreads into a delicate lace pattern, which can be lethal when painted in chocolate (and perhaps formed into sandwiches with multiple cookies and a ridiculous mess).

When removing the florentines from the oven, be sure to let the cookies sit for at least 15 minutes. Transfer to a cooling rack, eat, and repeat.

More cookies.

6

07.11.10

Hello, reader. My blogging was on hiatus — night classes are to blame. But I thought I’d return with a treat.

I’m actually on a flight from Los Angeles to Washington at the moment. I had taken a short trip to visit with family and friends, and to run my first half-marathon. I did it! And luckily, there were a number of physical therapists at the finish line to stretch and rub out the knots that were making my legs shake after running 13 miles. I was literally incapable of doing anything but standing for about thirty minutes because my legs were too tired to support my body’s attempts to relax on the ground. I guess it’s just too difficult after running for two and a half hours straight.

Naturally, my trip to California was filled to the brim, with rendezvous after rendezvous. And It was just impossible to see everyone, for which I apologize. But there will be return trips in the future, and as always, my favorite people are always welcome in Washington!

These are cookies I made for a close friend’s birthday — her name starts with a “D,” so I thought some initialed cookies would be as fashionable as she is. Her nickname is also “BW,” for bacon-weave (don’t ask), so there are a couple of those in there as well. The recipe can be found here; it’s my usual super thin sugar cookie recipe with royal icing.

Acoustic Guitar Cookies

2

26.9.10

I thought I’d post photos of my most recent feat — the guitar cookies. I recently stumbled across an acoustic guitar cookie cutter, and I had to have it. And there they are. The recipe for them can be found here. Just beware — the necks of the guitars kept breaking. These cookies are fragile, but as my roommate Jonathan says, they’re legit.

Oatmeal Raisin Cookies

7

19.9.10

I don’t think I took a single breath at work on Friday morning, between 9 AM and 3 PM.

It wasn’t the first time that happened at my new job, but it was literally a rush until we had things wrapped up. So naturally, I left the office and stuffed my face at We the Pizza on Capitol Hill. And then I remembered how much I want to move to that neighborhood (sorry roomies, it’s true). I like rustic neighborhoods — there’s a certain pretentiousness about neighborhoods in Northwest. I know it’s more about the people than the hoods, but I’m ready for a change anyway. I also realized that exactly a year ago on Friday, I moved to Washington and never looked back.

Since my blog is almost a year old, I took some time to look back upon what I’ve written. More sweet food than savory (after all, this is Sweetsonian), lots of writing on California, even more about Washington, and pages upon pages of commentary on the weather, which has decidedly cooled down.

I’ve learned that DC weather is not at all what I had expected. I left sunny, breezy, not-humid Los Angeles, while everyone in Washington reassured me that the weather is mild, that the snow rarely sticks to the ground, and that the summer humidity doesn’t really hit until July. What I ultimately experienced was a record breaking blizzard-filled winter, followed by a record-breaking hot summer, during which, my Dad called me to tell me that Los Angeles was having an unusually mild summer. I must have upset some version of weather gods at some point in my life, because the winter and summer made me feel like I had a metaphysical storm cloud following me around the country.

But the transitions between summer and winter are what I ultimately spend all of February and August looking forward to. The perfect running weather, picnics on the National Mall, and environmental shift away from months of the extremes. The tulips (my favorites) pop up in spring and everything becomes unseemingly green, while the fall leaves make my heart race with excitement — partially because the colors and the aromas of this coast in the fall bring back the excitement I felt a year ago, when I moved here.

Speaking of change, I spent the last holiday weekend at a friend’s beautiful house in Virginia; what part, I’m unsure. But it was stunning. And the family owned eight dachshunds and one golden retriever. Needless to say, I was in heaven. I exchanged these cookies for tanning, volleyball games, night swimming with watermelons, and a great group of my DC friends. And these cookies will always remind me of that much-needed break from the city. It’s such a simple recipe too — I got it off the Quaker Oats container. Sometimes the best recipes are left unaltered, to bask in their commercial utility. Like the tollhouse recipe: not my favorite, but still reliably good.

WHAT YOU NEED:

(recipe taken from Quaker Oats)

1/2 cup (1 stick) plus 6 tablespoons butter, softened
3/4 cup firmly packed brown sugar
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt (optional)
3 cups oats (quick or old fashioned, uncooked)
1 cup raisins

WHAT TO DO:

Heat oven to 350°F. In large bowl, beat butter and sugars on medium speed of electric mixer until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla; beat well. Add combined flour, baking soda, cinnamon and salt; mix well. Add oats and raisins; mix well.

Drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets.

Bake 8 to 10 minutes or until light golden brown. Cool 1 minute on cookie sheets; remove to wire rack. Cool completely. Store tightly covered.