This is Forty.

It's a new year. Happy New Year. I've never been one to make resolutions. I don't like to have hard and fast rules for myself. And yet I seem to constantly make hard and fast rules for myself. But never with food or wine; the ones that usually end up on a lot of people's resolution list. I did do that cleanseonce...

But this year is a little different. Between the move, the pregnancy, the having of the baby, and the life of one who has a baby, I have not exercised much at all. I bought a bike a few days before I found out I was pregnant and I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've ridden it in over a year. And now it's Winter again. And though I eat well – fresh, local, organic - I haven't practiced a lot of control with portions and cravings. I've craved a lot of red meat. I've craved a lot of cake.

Oh, and in the middle of all of this I turned forty.

So in this new year I am resolved to reclaim control of my body as much as I can while still nursing and caring pretty much full time for a six-month old *teething* baby. My dad set Fred, Emerson and I up with a family membership at a gym (with salt water pools and daycare!), and Fred and I are changing our diet for a couple of weeks, maybe longer. We're doing a type of a cleanse, but it doesn't really have any hard and fast rules. My cup of coffee, fine. A glass or two of wine, that's okay. And we eat three squares a day, with an afternoon snack. It's just all very healthy and balanced. With portion control.

BUT. Over the holiday I went a little cookie-making crazy (just take a look at my Instagram feed). I kept trying to make the perfect shortbread Christmas cookies. I never quite got them right. And I don't like not getting something right. I'm very competitive with myself. So I had to get them right. Even with all my resolutions. Those damn hard and fast rules I keep making for myself.

On day two of the cleanse, of course, I saw the recipe that seemed perfect. It was very simple, had what looked like just the right amount of butter (considerably more than two parts to the one part sugar) and added a great little twist of dipping the cookies halfway into tempered chocolate. So yesterday, after our breakfast of Steel-Cut Oats with Cacao Nibs and Figs, while Fred (who has a flu-like situation going on) and Emerson (again, teething) grabbed a mid-morning nap, I put on my apron and some Ahmad Jamal and got to it. It felt good. To be alone, in relative quiet, no one needinganything from me at all. With the house beginning to smell buttery and snuggly I had a horrible realization: I CAN'T EAT THE COOKIES. Well, I really shouldn't eat the cookies. I mean, I needed to save my appetite for my exciting lunch of Watercress Salad with Snapper and Kimchi and the possibility of some apple and almond butter later.

I ate exactly two. 

And they were indeed perfect.

As luck would have it, Paz had a Downton Abbey party to attend this evening and nothing to take (let's not try to think too hard about that sentence). The recipe made about fifty of the little domino-sized cookies. Shortbread is super British and great with tea. That just seems so, so, very Downton Abbey, right?

And like a whisper in the wind, all of my beautiful, delicious, perfect shortbread cookies disappeared into the night. Never to ruin my resolutions, and probably killing it at Paz's dumb party. And best of all, I simultaneously broke and kept a hard and fast rule.

Now, I must run off to enjoy my dinner of Brussels Sprouts and Tofu Stir Fry over Aromatic Red Rice and call back Parker, my trainer, to set up my first session.

Chocolate-Dipped Shortbread

Recipe from Epicurious, December 2005

Developed by Tracey Seaman

With its cloak of pure chocolate, this buttery cookie is sublime. For the best flavor, use a high-quality pure vanilla extract and the best chocolate you can find — preferably Valrhona. Melting the chocolate in two stages helps keep it at an even temperature — insuring that it will set evenly.

Makes about 3 dozen cookies

Ingredients

2 sticks (1/2 pound) unsalted butter, at room temperature

     2/3 cup sugar

     2 teaspoons vanilla extract

     1/2 teaspoon salt

     2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour

     8 ounces high-quality semisweet chocolate, finely chopped

Directions

Arrange racks in upper and lower thirds of oven and preheat to 325°F. Line 2 large cookie sheets with parchment paper.

In electric mixer, beat butter, sugar, vanilla, and salt at medium speed just until smooth. Add flour and mix at low speed until combined. Divide dough in half and shape into 2 disks.

On lightly floured work surface, roll out 1 piece dough to 1/4-inch-thick rectangle. Using fluted pastry wheel or large knife, cut into 2- by 1-inch rectangles. Transfer cookies to baking sheets, spacing 1 1/2 inches apart. Repeat with remaining dough.

Prick each cookie several times with tines of fork, then chill 10 minutes. Bake until edges are golden, about 15 minutes. Cool on pans 5 minutes, then transfer to racks and cool completely.

To decorate: Line baking sheet with clean parchment or wax paper. In medium heatproof bowl set over saucepan of simmering water, melt half chocolate. Add remaining chocolate, remove bowl from heat, and stir occasionally until smooth. Pour into small bowl.

Dip each cookie halfway into chocolate, let excess drip off, and place on baking sheet. Let stand until chocolate is set, about 1 hour. Store in airtight container at room temperature. (Do not refrigerate.)

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Butter Croissants

Two years ago: Buttermilk Vichyssoise with Fennel

Three years ago: Cheebo

Four years ago: Vinegar-Braised Chicken with Garlic & Clery Leaves

Five years ago: Carrot Soup with Ginger & Cumin

Seven years ago: Mozza & Dominick's

Piece of Cake.

Ever since Emerson was born I have felt my own insistence to get her to Roanoke to meet her, my, extended family. And then one night recently, my new friend, Stephanie, and I were talking and getting to know one another over some food and wine and words and I discovered she grew up in Roanoke. She spoke of writing a Roanoke food roundup sort of thing. And, like that, my brain went all Rube Goldberg. It was perfect. Emerson and I would drive to Roanoke for a beautiful Fall weekend; mother and daughter, on our first - just us - trip together. We would visit our whole family, everyone would ooh and ahh over her and I would meet up with Stephanie for wine and food and ten cent words about said wine and food. Like I said, perfect.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well first off, let it be said that Emerson is not exactly that quiet, docile, easy baby. I seem to keep forgetting how many times seemingly simple, banal undertakings must be aborted because of my cherubic, smiling beauty turned frowny-Stay-Puft-Marshmallow-Man-faced daughter's protests. How so many people look at me sympathetically while offering up their advice: 'try some cereal with applesauce,' or 'mine did that until eight months and then, poof, it was over' or 'I would stand over the sink with the water running while mine was strapped to my chest to calm her down' or 'rub some brandy on her gums and then pour the rest for yourself.'

*sigh*

Okay. So I would definitely need help to pull this weekend off. Fortunately my mom readily signed on. Wait, this would be even perfect-er: three generations of women, on the road, visiting their family. I could already see the movie version, starring Susan Sarandon, Charlize Theron and Dakota Fanning (playing the older version of Emerson). There would be laughter and tears in the profusion of colorful fall leaves. And, at some point, there would be a scene with us all reminiscing the adventures of that weekend and laughing – all culminating with us singing to I Hear a Symphony using hairbrushes as microphones.

What could possibly go wrong?

I saw the drive as a great sign for the weekend ahead: smooth and peaceful, mountainous with beautiful fall colors. Emerson slept most of the way to Roanoke, waking up just as we pulled up to Aunt Connie's. After changing Emerson's diaper and feeding her, I settled in and asked Connie if she had any wine. A cute, individual-sized box (pre-portioned to be the equivalent of no more than three modest glasses of wine) of merlot appeared before me.

*Two arenas in which I am definitely not a snob: coffee and wine. Bring on the box.

After that glass of wine, it was time to get in touch with Stephanie and figure out the dinner plan. I mean, once I got Emerson to sleep, around right before I left, it seemed perfectly reasonable that I could run out and meet up with Stephanie for a nice meal at a sweet little spot I liked the last time I visited. Mom and Connie could catch up and look after the sleeping baby. Piece of cake.

So I headed out to meet Stephanie – kind of already grasping that this seemed better on paper... In the car I immediately realized how unfamiliar I was navigating Roanoke; my destination was a good thirty minutes away. Damn. I was late. And once I arrived, though we had a reservation, there was a wait. The restaurant was slammed. After almost another thirty minutes we were seated at the bar and I ordered a glass of lovely bordeaux, I get the text from Connie, “Sorry but we can't calm her down.”

I put the phone on silent, face down on the bar and took a slug of the wine. And then I can see it - though it probably wasn't the most brilliant plan of plans, and yes, we both wanted to see each other (how fun to have dinner in a whole different city together!) - this was perhaps one of those 'best laid plans' kind of situations.

Then another text from Connie, “Hold on! She's asleep.” The sweet relief washed over me just as our foie gras appetizer appeared. Then Stephanie announced her stomach didn't feel so good. 

*sigh*

At least I got to house that foie gras...

Another thirty minute drive back. Back to Connie's finish off my little box of merlot while I did the math: thirty minutes there, thirty minute wait, thirty minute 'dinner', thirty minutes back. Best laid plans indeed.

And then cutting through the quiet, Emerson woke up crying. My desperate, sleep starved heart ached as I knew then we would both be up through most of the night. 

The next day rolled in and was impressively, vividly difficult. Both Emerson and I were utterly exhausted after our sleepless night, but this was our one full day in town and we had people to see. Things to do. Like go visit my mom's long lost cousin, Kelsey. They hadn't seen one another in decades and decades. So much to catch up on! So much family history to talk about! Emerson wasn't having any part of cousin catch-up. Time to leave. 

While driving away I realized I hadn't eaten a thing and was beginning to shake with hunger. It started to rain. Emerson had settled down in the car, seemed as though she was finally getting some sleep, so I wanted to go to a spot, Wildflour, where I had lunched on a previous visit. Memories of a nice, fresh salad, sandwich, and a coconut cake that I never could get out of my head sounded dreamy. Turns out this was also one of Stephanie's favorite places in town. Turns out she was going to be there at about the same time. Perfect? (I was becoming dubious) We parked and got snoozy Emerson all loaded up in the stroller – in the rain – when, of course (because my daughter has comedic timing), she began to cry. Volume increasing. Nonononono. I couldn't have Stephanie see me, us, like this. Hell, I couldn't foist this upon the peaceful, little cafe.

We got back in the car and drove off, my fingers white knuckled around the steering wheel.

I drove around, lost, looking for food, crying (both Emerson and me), delirious with hunger (both Emerson and me) and sleep deprived (both Emerson and me). We pulled into a shopping mall where, surprise!, there was another outpost of Wildflour. Mom ran into the restaurant, cut in front of the line to order “Anything! Now! Fast! And a slice of coconut cake! My daughter is in the car in the parking lot with a crying baby and hasn't eaten all day!” Somehow, for her, they parted the line like the Red Sea.

You know those moments in life where, even then you know you will absolutely look back and laugh? You have to. You know that you are presently in a memory, a story? Well, when you're spending a Saturday afternoon sitting in a running car, in a mall parking lot in Roanoke, Virginia, in the rain, with your left breast out, nursing your inconsolable baby, cramming a cold grilled cheese sandwich and coconut cake into your mouth with your free hand that your Mommy went and practically killed for to get you...

And then Emerson slept on the way back to Connie's.

Connie, as it turned out, had already made the executive decision to cancel dinner plans with the rest of the family. She recognized that I was cracking and Emerson was not having any part of family functions (functionality?). Instead, there was a very brief family visit during which I received sympathetic glances as I passed her around... And then they were gone.

That night, Emerson went right into a sound sleep. Connie, Mom and I ate microwaved Marie Callender's chicken piccata, watched The Hunger Games and gabbed about guys and life and girl stuff. And how thoughtful that Connie picked me up some wine; pinot grigio in my own little box. Emerson and I both slept all the way through to the smell of coffee brewing the next morning. Mom made us all breakfast and we were on our way back to Richmond. And, of course, Emerson slept all the way home. Actually, so did I. Thanks, Mom, for driving.

So, maybe Emerson wasn't quite ready for her journey. Or maybe I wasn't. Or maybe babies are babies – they cry - and no one expects any different. Maybe I was the only one feeling exasperated and defeated (apparently only when it's your own does your baby's cry make you feel as though you're trapped in a room with an alarm blaring and no way to turn it off).

It all makes one hell of a story. One that could, perhaps, be directed by Lawrence Kasdan, or Chris Columbus. Or, if we want to take it in another direction, Martin Scorsese ala After Hours... I'm still thinking Susan Sarandon, Charlize Theron and Dakota Fanning. Connie would be played by Jane Fonda and Stephanie would be played by either Ellen Page or Natalie Portman. 

There would still be laughter and tears amongst all those colorful fall leaves. And at some point there would be a scene with us all looking back at that time in the mall parking lot with my boobs out and laughing. I'd buy a ticket.

Once we got back, Fred gave me a day off, of sorts, because, of course, me, all I wanted to do was make that coconut cake. And that day – which turned into a week and multiple coconut cakes (also starring Stephanie!) we will save for the sequel.

Until then...

The World's Most Amazing Coconut Cake

Ingredients

For the cake:

8 egg whites

1/2 cup whole milk

¼ cup sour cream

1 tablespoon coconut cream

1 1/2 tablespoon coconut essence

4 1/2 cups cake flour

3 1/2 cups sugar

6 3/4 teaspoons  baking powder

3/4 teaspoon salt

1 ½ cups unsalted butter, room temperature

1 ½ cups unsweetened coconut milk

For the frosting:
1½ cups granulated sugar
6 egg whites
1½ cups unsalted butter, at room temperature, cut into 2-inch pieces
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
¼ teaspoon kosher salt

¼ cup sour cream
⅔ cup coconut milk

For the Garnish:
2 cups sweetened shredded coconut, lightly toasted

Directions

To make the cake:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Butter and flour three 8-inch (or 9-inch) cake pans, line with parchment paper and dust with flour.

Put the egg whites in a bowl and lightly whisk. Add the milk, sour cream, coconut cream and coconut essence and mix thoroughly. Set aside.

Using a stand mixer with a paddle attachment, combine the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add the butter and coconut milk and combine on low speed until moistened. Jack up the speed to medium and beat until light and fluffy, about 2 minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the egg white mixture in 3 parts, scraping down the sides of the bowl and mixing just long enough to incorporate between additions.

Divide the batter among the prepared pans and bake for 45-50 minutes or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Allow the cakes to cool in their pans for 10 minutes, then turn them out onto cooling racks to cool completely.

To make the frosting:

In a small, heatproof bowl, whisk together the sugar and egg whites. Place the bowl on top of a saucepan with about an inch of simmering water (do not let the bottom of the bowl touch the water). Heat the mixture, whisking occasionally, for 6 to 8 minutes, or until the mixture is hot to the touch and the sugar is dissolved.

Remove the bowl from the heat and transfer the mixture into the bowl of an electric mixer. Using the whisk attachment, whip on medium-high speed for 6 to 8 minutes, or until the mixture becomes a light, white meringue and the mixture is cool to the touch. Reduce the speed to low and add the butter a couple of pieces at a time. Increase the speed to medium and mix for 4 to 5 minutes, or until the butter is thoroughly incorporated and the frosting is smooth and glossy. The frosting may initially look curdled after adding the butter, but continue beating and it will come together, looking smooth and creamy by the end of the mixing time.

Add the vanilla extract, salt, sour cream and coconut milk and whip for another few minutes on medium speed, or until the coconut milk is thoroughly incorporated and the frosting is smooth. Again, the buttercream may look thin and separated, but continue mixing until it comes together. It will end up being quite satin-like, light and lovely.

Note: Use the frosting within 30 minutes, or transfer to an airtight container and store at room temperature for up to 1 day, then beat with a mixer until smooth before using. You can also store the frosting in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks, then bring to room temperature and beat with a mixer for 6 to 8 minutes until smooth before using.

To assemble:

Remove the cooled cakes from their pans and level the tops, if necessary. Place one cake layer on a cake stand and top with 1 cup (or so) of the frosting, using a spatula to spread it evenly to the edges.

Place the second layer on top, top-side down and top with 1 more cup (or so) of the frosting, using a spatula to spread it evenly to the edges.

Repeat with third cake.

Spoon the remainder of the frosting onto the top of the cake and use a large offset spatula to spread the it on top and over the sides of the cake, covering it with a very thin layer. Press the shredded coconut onto the top and sides of the frosted cake.Refrigerate for 20 minutes.

Store in the fridge or an airtight container at room temperature and cake will keep for about three days.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Deep in the Heart of Texas

Two years ago: Pimiento Cheese Burgers

Three years ago: Cream Biscuits

Four years ago: Roasted Garlic & Cauliflower Soup with Rye Croutons

Five years ago: Lumples

A Different Kind of Love

Valentine's Day has always been a mixed bag filled primarily with slightly overly bedazzled expectations brewing since the My Little Pony Dream Castle days. This bag pretty much remains overstocked well after Valentine's Day passes like the unsold candy hearts Now On Sale!/Half Price! at drug stores. And to be honest, if anyone genuinely managed to 'satisfy' those expectations (except my dad's always adorably, and unknowingly, cheesy gestures or my friend's adorably, knowingly, cheesy gestures, I probably wouldn't dig them so much.) I guess at the core I'm really just not a dozen red roses and heart-shaped box of ooey, gooey chocolates kind-of-girl.

This morning, while shuffling into the kitchen and wiping sleep from my eyes, still clad in my buttons-now-popping-at-the-seam-around-the-belly union suit, Fred had a song playing on the stereo while he made us coffee. It sounded familiar. I had heard it before. And I knew that voice. Then, as he looked at me and started lip syncing to it with his air mic, I realized it was the song he wrote for me, about me, and played for me the on our first Valentine's Day (also as I shuffled into the kitchen for coffee in my much cuter, and nicely fitting jammies) on our first trip away together at his family cabin in Inverness.

Wait. That is so ooey, gooey, My Little Pony Dream Castle days daydreaming material. Oh, baby.

Oh, baby. And yes, then there's that. This brand new, different kind of love happening. It's true, and I feel funny admitting it, but this morning, before I rolled over and kissed Fred, or even said good morning or Happy Valentine's Day, for that matter, I put both of my hands on my belly for a long moment. Every molecule of my being swelled with a huge, red, heart shaped love for this little girl I'm - we're - making. Just think, next year all three of us will be in the kitchen in our jammies listening to the song daddy wrote for mommy when they first met and fell in love.

Another, and also different kind of love (perhaps fondness) has been growing in me since last Valentine's Day. This is an unlikely love; kind of like King Kong and Ann Darrow (the Fay Wray version, of course). If none of you have noticed, I've been baking a lot. But have any of you noticed how much I've been baking with fruit? Well, I have. I've even been making my own smoothiesfor the past few weeks. Granted, I'm only brave enough for two fruits intermingling thus far – banana and orange with some yogurt and bee pollen. Baby steps!

Oh, baby. There it is again. And speaking of her. And fruit. It's a good thing I'm inching my way out of my fruit issues, because I'm likely going to be knee deep in the stuff. The ooey gooey worst kind of the stuff, too: applesauce. Oh, lord. I can't. I just can't. Not yet.

But, for this Valentine's Day, I made a baby step forward, away from my fear of cooked fruit, for our dessert tonight (after grilled lobster tails in the snow by the fire pit in the backyard!) and for our little baby girl's future nasty, sticky, messy meals that I promise I will relish every moment of making and feeding to her. When the time comes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But today, Fred, these words are for you. 

In case you thought I didn't remember the first Valentine's Day in Inverness when you nervously stood in front of me with your guitar and sang your heart to me, I didn't. And in case you thought that that moment, and every beautiful moment with you, and from you, gets overlooked, it hasn't. I love you and I love us, all of us. Happy Valentine's Day.

Love,

Elliott

Cheddar Apple Heart-in-Hand Pies

Makes 8 hand pies

Cheddar Pie Dough 

(from Martha Stewart)

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

Salt

2 sticks cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces

1/4 to 1/2 cup ice water

1 cup shredded sharp white cheddar cheese

1 egg yolk beaten with 2 tablespoons of water

Turbinado or regular granulated sugar for dusting

Apple Filling

1 1/2 pounds (about 3) apples, peeled, cored, and cut into small cubes*

2 pounds (about 5) Opal apples, peeled, cored, and cut into small cubes*

½ cup brown sugar

1/4 cup sugar
Zest and juice of one lemon
3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt

*I think you could basically use any combination of crisp-textured apples. And you will have extra apple filling here. Use the rest to fry up and put in oatmeal or on top of pancakes. Wax creative...

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Pulse flour and 1 teaspoon salt in a food processor until combined. Add butter, and pulse until mixture resembles coarse meal, about 10 seconds. Drizzle 1/4 cup water evenly over mixture. Pulse until mixture just begins to hold together (dough should not be wet or sticky). If dough is too dry, add more water, 1 tablespoon at a time, and pulse. Add cheese; pulse until combined.

Shape dough into 2 balls, and wrap each in plastic wrap. Refrigerate until chilled, about 30 minutes or up to overnight.

Make the filling: Stir together apples, sugar, flour, lemon juice, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and cloves.

On a lightly floured work surface, roll out one half of the dough to 1/8-inch thickness. Roll out each piece so it's big enough to to fit your heart. Cut eight hearts out of the rolled dough. Transfer the circles to a parchment-lined baking sheet, and place in the refrigerator to chill for about 30 minutes. Repeat the rolling, cutting, and chilling process with the remaining half of dough.

Put four hearts on a parchment-lined rimmed baking sheet. Spoon a couple of scoops of apple filling in the center of each heart. Using your finger, brush a little cold water on the inside of the circumference of the cutouts and top each heart with another heart. Seal the edges together with the tines of a fork.

Lightly brush with pies the egg yolk wash and poke little holes on top. Sprinkle sugar lightly over the pies, and place pies in the oven to bake.

Bake pies until golden, about 30 minutes.

Serve while hot and I strongly suggest with a scoop of rich, delicious vanilla bean ice cream (Fred makes the best).

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Mimi's Baked Broccoli

Two years ago: Grilled Oysters with Garlicky, Lemony, Buttery Sauce

Three years ago: Celeriac Soup with Sunchoke 'Croutons'

Four years ago: French Red Pepper Soup (Potage Aux Poivrons Rouges)

Six years ago: Yang Chow

A New Year and A New Year.

We've done it again. Another round of holidays, another year. Interestingly, I now live just one block from my dad's house, the house I grew up in, yet I hosted both of the Thanksgiving and Christmas festivities at my little place this year. I offered to buy the tree, decorate the tree, un-decorate the tree and even remove of the tree myself, Dad stillwould have none of it in his house. Let's see how Father's Day treats you this year, pal.

Today Fred and I grudgingly removed all remnants of holiday from our place (never fun) and put things back to normal. We did this in spite of Paz telling me it was bad as it was before Three Kings Day; a landmark day of which I have no knowledge. Lest we forget, I still don't fully understand all that is Easter, unless we're talking Cadbury Creme Eggs. Plus, with the radiator heat being used pretty consistently for the three weeks the tree had been in the living room, even with daily water refills, one spark and that bad boy could have gone up like a powder keg. So, sorry Paz, it was time.

Today also marks the sixth (6th) anniversary of F for Food (!!!). It's my blog-birthday. At the ripe age of six, this little blog that could has come a long way. It has given me foods, wines, cocktails, recipes, cookbooks, cuisines, restaurants, events, interviews, chefs, meals, friends, meals with friends, exploits, wanderings and jobs that I never even expected - and I am eternally grateful. I'm not stopping at six, though. No way.

So, here we are. 2014 is laid out in front of us like the Yellow Brick Road. And this will, no doubt, for myself at least, hold a similar promise of adventure, wonder and intrigue (sans opiates, of course) as that golden thoroughfare. With my recent move, a new home, new job, new (and old) friends, and a surprise or two - how could it not?

Since I've been back on the East Coast, though I have not shared much of it here (yet), I have been going a little hog wild in the kitchen. Maybe it's all the New, maybe it's the cold weather, or maybe it was the holidays, but as a bit of a culinary deviation, I've done a great deal of baking over the past couple of months. One of these such Betty Crocker kitchen brainflowers was based on a recent phase/new morning routine I've been going through: croissants with my coffee. I've always loved a croissant. Just the butter variety, no chocolate or almonds, please.

BUT, as seemingly simple as the butter croissant may be, I have had a scant few in memory that hit it home, Tartine being the all-time number one. This is probably why I don't think about, or, pine for them regularly. When I do, however, that desire, that need, is fully reignited and that is all I want with my coffee. Every. Single. Day.

So it made perfect sense to give it a go in my kitchen. It always seems so simple when there are not so many ingredients and they're the very ones one might normally have in their kitchen anyway. And, er, it's not in one of Suzanne Goin's cookbooks. So it must be pretty straightforward. Right?

Well. Sort of.

Milk, flour, sugar, salt, sugar, water and butter, butter, butter. See, I'll bet you have that in your kitchen right now. Easy as pie (dough). The thing is, my nemesis as a cook, baker, what-have-you, is that I either don't follow recipes OR I don't read them all the way through before diving in. So this seemingly easy breezy recipe...

Right.

Had I been that person I would have taken note of the almost twenty-four hour turnaround time interspersed with committed and earnest periods of rotating, rolling out, refolding the chilled dough. Oh, and all the work with the mountain range of butter. And that is why God invented Fred (thanks, Fred!).

They turned out pretty great, I must admit. They undoubtedly rivaled many I've purchased in many cafes, bakeries and coffee shops, but they were not Tartine good (maybe they just needed more butter?). Which, really, I wouldn't want them to be. Talk about a magic food bubble getting popped but quick.

Here's the thing, at least in my humble-non-bakerly opinion: now that I've gone and made croissants, and done a pretty alright job of it, I don't see myself doing it again. Certainly not regularly. And my respect for those that do, those that rise at three in the morning to painstakingly and lovingly go through the tedious and time consuming routine of croissant making, that must do it because they must, has risen like yeasty dough. They must respect and love the process and I've got nothing but respect and love for them for that.

On that note, happy New Year and here's to six (6) wonderful years of F for Food! Thank you for being here. It means everything to me. Now, before we have to get all resolution-y, let's make some croissants, shall we?

Butter Croissants

Makes about 24 croissants

To make the dough:

1 cup cold milk

1/2 cup boiling water

1 tablespoon active dry yeast

1/4 cup sugar

3 3/4 cup all purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup + 2 tablespoons butter, frozen, then left at room temp. for 20-30 minutes

Parchment paper
A lot of arm muscle

Pour the milk and boiling water into a large bowl. Stir in the yeast and sugar, leave for 5 minutes until frothy.

Add in the flour and salt, incorporate it with your hands into a shaggy ball.

Tip the contents out onto a clean work surface and knead until you’ve incorporated all the flour (this should only take about 2 minutes). Place the dough into an oiled bowl, and leave in the fridge to rest for 1 hour.

When your dough has been in refrigerating for 30 minutes, take your frozen butter (which has been left at room temperature for 20-30 minutes), and grate onto a piece of plastic wrap.

Disperse the butter, and flatten into a rectangle, roughly 8″ x 5″. Fold up in the plastic wrap and pat together well.  Refrigerate for 30 minutes.

Once the butter has been chilling for 25 minutes, tip the chilled dough out onto a lightly floured work surface and roll into a 16″ x 10″ rectangle.

Unwrap the chilled butter block and place into the center of the dough. Fold the dough into thirds over the butter (like a business letter). Seal all the edges by pinching the dough together.

Rotate the dough 90 degrees, use the rolling pin to make regular indentations in the dough.

Roll into a 15″ x 10″ rectangle.

Fold into thirds again. Wrap the dough in cling film, and refrigerate for 1 hour.  (steps 8+9 = ‘one turn’ of the dough).

Remove the dough from the fridge, unwrap and complete 1 turn (i.e. repeat steps 8 + 9). Re-wrap in the cling film, refrigerate for 1 hour.

Repeat step 10, two more times, so you have done a total of 4 turns.

Cut the dough into quarters. Wrap the quarters tightly in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 8-12 hours, or freeze for up to 3 months (if you freeze it, let the dough defrost in the fridge overnight before shaping).

Shaping the dough:

Remove one piece of dough from the fridge, unwrap it, and roll out on a lightly floured surface into a 16″ x 6″ rectangle.

Cut into thirds, forming 3 smaller rectangles. Cut each of these rectangles in half diagonally forming 6 triangles.

Take one triangle of dough (I recommend putting the others in the fridge while you shape each one).
Pull on the corners of the shortest edge, to even up the base of the triangle. Then gently stretch the dough a little.

Cut a small slit in the base of the triangle, stretch it, then roll the dough up.

Place it, tip side down, onto a parchment-lined baking sheet. Repeat with the rest of the triangles, placing them 2″ apart (at this point you can also freeze the shaped croissants on the baking sheet, then once frozen, transfer them to a plastic bag and leave in the freezer for up to 3 months, then defrost in the fridge overnight and proceed with baking as below).

Cover loosely with plastic wrap and leave to rise in a cool place for around 2-3 hours ( if you’re making these the night before, you can actually shape them and leave them to rise in the fridge overnight instead).

Bake: 

Once ready to bake, adjust oven racks to upper and lower thirds of oven and preheat to 425ºF. Spritz inside oven generously with spray bottle and close door.

Brush the croissants with beaten egg using a pastry brush.

 Put croissants in oven, then spritz again before closing door. Reduce temperature to 400ºF and bake 10 minutes without opening door.

Switch position of sheets in oven and rotate sheets 180º, then reduce temperature to 375ºF and bake until croissants are deep golden, about 10-15 minutes more until lightly browned and puffy.

Let cool on a wire rack.

NOTE: Baked and cooled croissants keep 1 month: First freeze them, uncovered, on baking sheets until firm, then wrap them snugly in foil before returning to freezer. When ready to serve, remove foil and bake (not thawed) on a baking sheet in a 325ºF oven 5 to 10 minutes.

For some really helpful GIF tutorials with regard to all the process involved with this recipe, click here.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Buttermilk Vichyssoise with Fennel

Two years ago: Cheebo

Three years ago: Vinegar-Braised Chicken with Garlic & Clery Leaves

Four years ago: Carrot Soup with Ginger & Cumin

Six year ago (!!!): Mozza & Dominick's

Have this Cake. And Eat it, Too.

I would be remiss if I did not take a brief pause from the road trip adventure stories to talk a little bit about the fact that this is Thanksgiving week. Not only is this, like, my favorite holiday of all time (next to Christmas, of course), but for the first time in over a decade, I am back home with my family to share in holiday times together. It's pretty special.

Much has transpired since Fred and I landed in Richmond a little over a month ago. We've settled into our new place – for the most part. Still looking for window treatments for the kitchen, and a few odds and ends. We carved jack-o-lanterns for Halloween and had trick-or-treaters! It snowed. A little. I got a new bike that is super, extra cute. And, at both my dad and Fred's behest, a helmet that is decidedly less cute. We have explored old and new Richmond restaurants and cooking at home with equal frequency. And I have a few other extremely exciting tidbits to share. But not quite yet.

Because, you see, we need to talk turkey. Or, at least, Thanksgiving stuff (ing). Or, at least, fall, food holiday things. You wouldn't know it from checking in here, but I actually have been cooking up a storm since we arrived in Richmond. With the exception of the brief few days it took to replace the electric stove with a new, super awesome gas stove.

There have been pools of soups, piles of cakes, profusion of roasted chickens, pyramids of biscuits, plenty of cookies and a prosperity of granola. As the leaves on the trees have gone from full and green to the bright yellows, reds, oranges and browns, to almost barren, we have sampled almost all of the various, local farmers' markets, settled on our favorite and have become regulars.

I baked two cakes that seem particularly timely for this season, this week: a persimmon upside down cake and an apple-walnut cake. They both showcase peak seasonal produce items and were both remarkably delicious. However, A) the persimmon cake requires several more shots to get it just rightfor you and, B) Fred got way better pictures of the apple-walnut cake. And they do say, we eat first with our eyes, right?

For this particular version, I used a local Virginia apple, the Jonathan, which was a new one for me. I was told that Virginia Jonathan apples are the first red apples available in the Fall and are the ideal all-purpose apple. The farmer told me that they are equally delicious for snacking, cooking and baking – and are perfect for candy apples. I found them to be earthy and at the same time exotic with a unique blend of sweet and tart. To the eye they appear to be a standard red, but upon closer inspection, their skin combines light red stripes over yellow or deep red. If you don't happen to be in Virginia, which you're probably not, find apples that hold up under heat and balance sweet-tart flavor, like Honeycrisp, Mutsu, Pink Lady.

All walnuts ripen in the Fall, so they were the perfect nut choice. However, I used black walnuts as opposed to the standard English walnuts (which are actually Persian). Black walnuts are native to the U.S. - from California, actually - and have a bolder, earthier flavor than the milder and slightly sweeter taste of the English walnut. That's just my jam, is all. Your walnut, your prerogative.

Team effort alert: Fred made the glaze! Fred chose the lemon-vanilla variety to add a brightness to the rounded warmth of the flavors in the cake.

Now, I realize this comes to you the day before Thanksgiving. A day you're probably working on pumpkin and pecan pies rather than an apple cake. But just in case you're looking for that curve ball, that little glimmer of inspirato that deviates slightly from the norm this Thanksgiving, I tell you what - this cake came together beautifully and I can't think of a single thing I would change about the recipe we made. So, whether it's today, tomorrow, next week or next month (as long as it's soon-ish), make this cake. Have a slice after dinner with a glass of rum, or in the morning with a cup of coffee.

But you should definitely have this cake. And eat it, too.

Apple-Walnut Cake with Lemon Vanilla Glaze

(recipe adapted from this Southern classic)

Ingredients

1 1/4 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup whole wheat flour

3/4 cup granulated sugar

1 cup light brown sugar, packed

1 tablespoon ground cinnamon

2 teaspoons baking powder

1 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

3/4 cup vegetable oil

1 teaspoon vanilla

3 eggs

2 cups finely chopped peeled apples

1 cup chopped walnuts

Lemon Vanilla Glaze, below

Preparation

In a large mixing bowl, blend all ingredients except chopped apples and walnuts with electric mixer. Stir in chopped apples and nuts. Pour into a generously greased and floured 10-inch Bundt cake pan or tube pan. Bake at 325° for 55 to 65 minutes, until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in pan for 15 minutes; turn out onto serving plate to cool completely. Drizzle with a vanilla glaze.

For the Lemon Vanilla Glaze

3 tablespoons lemon juice

1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract

3/4 cup+ confectioners’ sugar, sifted

Combine lemon juice, 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla, and confectioners’ sugar in a small bowl and whisk until smooth, playing with lemon juice and sugar ratios until desired glaze consistency and flavor has been reached. Drizzle glaze over cake and serve immediately. Store cake in an airtight container at room temperature or in the refrigerator for up to 5 days.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Chestnut, Apple & Celery Soup with Sage Oil

Two years ago: Classic Cranberry Nut Bread

Three years ago: Sausage over Creamy Lentils

Four years ago: Bouchon Beverly Hills

California, Here We Go.

We've been plotting and planning for close to eight months. We've been roommates with boxes and bubble wrap for about as many weeks. Address changes, car selling, new banks, lists and lists and lists, goodbye breakfasts, lunches and dinners, goodbye glasses (that turned into bottles) of wine – all of this, leading up to a moment. The moment we drive away from the City of Angels towards our new home, three thousand miles away in Richmond, Virginia. And that moment happened last Thursday.

It was so hurried and frenetic, nary a moment for goodbye tears or nostalgia. Which suited me just fine. Fred, Eduardo, Byron and I all loaded up in our little car, loaded with our life for the next few weeks - not without grandma Janie's cast-iron skillet and my bacon drippings. Ahead warp zillion! Ahead first to Phoenix, Arizona, where we were set to meet up with the legendary Chris Bianco, creator of what is purported to be the greatest pizza on Earth outside of Italy. And then what next? We were not certain. And that is the beauty. We are like Hansel and Gretel, eating those breadcrumbs all along the trail across this great country to find our way home.

After experiencing a wonderful dinner at Chris' newest iteration of Pizzeria Bianco (which you will be able to read and see all about on TasteSpotting soon!), we popped up bright and early to meet up with him at his cafe and 'test kitchen' of sorts, Pane Bianco. This is where his brother, Marco, bakes the loaves of bread and also where the mill lives. Yes, they grow their own wheat, have their own mill, and bake their own bread with their very own flour.

After a tour of the kitchen, dining room and mill, with tastes of biscotti here, and gelato there, Chris sat with us and talked about love and the beauty in everything, and what inspires him (of which food is but a slice). He talked about rectangles, triangles and circles (everything in Pane Bianco is on wheels). He then sent us on our way with hugs, a bottle of chilled rosé from his restaurant (the label is from a painting his father gave his mother ages ago, of a rose) and told us to pick out one of the loaves that had just come out of the oven – to pick the one 'that spoke to us.'

And on the road we went. To infinity: The Grand Canyon. Where we went to watch the sunset, crack open the bottle of rosé, and eat that beautiful fresh bread with some Italian cheeses we picked up in Flagstaff. And yes, the bread was remarkable – mouth-injuringly crusty on the outside, yet moist, airy and filled with beautiful air pockets on the inside – fundamentally satisfying in every way. I suppose Marco was right, it 'spoke to us.' All this while watching the sun disappear into the canyon. How remarkable was it? So much so that I have goose bumps even writing this.

The next morning we were up bright and early to get on the road again. We needed to make it to Albuquerque, at least. Which shouldn't have been too much of a challenge, but Fred wanted to amble. So we stopped at Meteor Crater, walked the dogs, looked around, took pictures. And then we were off again. Well, for about thirty minutes. When I noticed the car slowing considerably, I looked up and found that Fred had pulled off into a small town. And we were driving down the main drag: Route 66.

Fred turned to me and flatly explained (as though it was quite obvious), “I want to be standin' on a corner in Winslow, Arizona."

Oh, of course. Clearly.

We pulled over, leashed up the pups and went to find The Corner. It wasn't hard to find. After Fred posed for his obligatory picture, we began to wander and stumbled across none other than the 15th Annual Standin' on a Corner Festival. What are the chances?!

So we found a vendor selling Navajo Tacos on Fry Bread, wandered back to the car and had our lunch. As we sat in the sun, noshing this new kind of taco, I looked around and thought about Chris' words from earlier. I ruminated on unexpected beauty, I looked down at my pizza-shaped taco loaded with meat, cheese, tomatoes, green onion, lettuce and salsa with the fry bread confidently glistening with hot oil, I relished the love of Fred and our dogs on this singular adventure. I then looked up and saw a bird fly over (how amazing would it have been if it was an eagle?).

Take it easy? No problem.

And just think, only fort-eight hours prior we were watching the City of Angels disappear in our rear view mirror.

Navajo Fry Bread
(recipe adapted from The Pioneer Woman)

Makes 6 breads

Ingredients

3 cups All-purpose Flour

1/2 teaspoon Salt

3 teaspoons Baking Powder (slightly Rounded Teaspoons)

3/4 cups Milk

 Water As Needed To Get Dough To Come Together

 Vegetable Shortening Or Lard For Frying

Directions

Stir together flour, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl. Stir with a fork as you pour in the milk; keep stirring for a bit to get it to come together as much as possible. Add just enough water (about 1/4 to 1/2 cup) to get it to come together. Cover the bowl with a dish towel and let it sit for 35 to 45 minutes to rest.

When you're ready to make the fry bread, heat about 1 to 2 inches shortening/lard in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Grab a plum-sized piece of dough (or larger if you want larger fry bread) and press it into a circle with your fingers: place it on a clean surface and begin pressing in the center and work your way out, stretching it as you go.

When the circle is about 4 to 7 inches (however big you want it) carefully drape it into the skillet. Allow it to fry on one side until golden brown, about 1 minute, then carefully flip it to the other side using tongs. Fry it for another 30 to 45 seconds.

Remove the fry bread to a paper towel-lined plate and allow it to drain while you fry the other pieces.

Serve warm!

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Ham Hock & Lima Beans

Two years ago: Chocolate Sea-Salt Pie

Three years ago: Chicks with Knives at Test Kitchen, 2010

Four years ago: The Marked 5 Truck