A Picnic in Bed

Last weekend Fred and I camped out at home. We planned our 'getaway' carefully, and made sure we had a plentitude of rations (of every imaginable sort) to ensure there would be absolutely no reason to get into a car at any point between day's end on Friday and first light on Monday. And, I dare say, mission accomplished with flying, colorful colors.

After our camping expedition in the living room the night before, we took Saturday to sleep in. Even the pups stayed in bed with us and snuggled, as opposed to Beso waking up at the crack of dawn to commence his ritual of whimpering and squiggling until I get up to feed him. Eventually, though, the pups had to be fed. So Fred lingered in bed while I took care of them, made coffee and poked around in the kitchen to see what I wanted to rustle up for breakfast. 

Breakfast turned into brunch as I looked up from the stove, where I was making heart-shaped eggs in a basket, and saw that it was almost noon. Then, the breakfast that turned into brunch, turned into brunch in bed; coffee, orange juice, sausages, eggs in a basket, and a crossword. On a tray. In bed. At Noon. 

That's when I got an idea, or as I like to call them, brainflowers.

I was so excited that I zipped right back into the kitchen. I dug up cocoa powder, walnuts and blood oranges and I was going to make cake, or cupcakes, or something. Something cute and sweet. I called Mom, rifled through cookbooks and searched online for ideas on how to incorporate the ingredients. I found little. It seems when that happens, the best go to is cupcakes. So I got to it.

A couple of things: A) I don't bake much, and when I flop in the kitchen, it's usually baking-related. B) I have never made chocolate anything.

I am a big fan of blood oranges. When they appear for a few short weeks in the middle of winter, I jump at the opportunity to make just about everything I possibly can with them. But I had yet to make them into cupcakes. I figured it was about damn time. And because I’ve found that little is quite as satisfying as a chocolate cupcake, the chocolate blood orange cupcake was born. With olive oil and walnuts. And for more fun, Fred made candied blood orange peel to top the cupcakes off!

The cupcakes were kind of amazing. I was very proud. They were so incredibly moist. They were heavy in weight, but tremendously light and fluffy on the palate. The sunset hued buttercream and the chocolate cake spiked with orange zest were a perfect match. Like they were made for each other. Success!

Why did I do all of this? What propelled this chocolatey, baking brainflower? Because, I figured, if the night before we could camp out in the living room and make clam chowder over the open fire, then this afternoon we could have a tea party picnic in bed!

And so we did. But we were going to need those cupcakes...

Chocolate, Olive Oil, Blood Orange Cupcakes with Walnuts
(recipe adapted from Love & Olive Oil)

Makes 12 cupcakes

Ingredients:

1 cup coconut milk
1/3 cup pure olive oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon blood orange zest, finely grated
1/2 cup walnut pieces
3/4 cup sugar
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon almond meal
1/3 cup cocoa powder
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt

For Frosting:
1/2 cup butter or margarine, room temperature
2-3 cups confectioners' sugar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
3 tablespoons blood orange juice
1 teaspoon blood orange zest, finely grated
1-2 tablespoons soy creamer or heavy cream (as needed)

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Line muffin pan with paper liners.

Whisk together the coconut milk, sugar, oil, vanilla extract, and zest until incorporated. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, almond meal, cocoa powder, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Make a well in the center of dry ingredients and pour in coconut milk mixture. Add walnuts and stir until just smooth (do not overmix). 

Pour into liners, filling each with 3 tablespoons of batter (cups should be no more than 2/3 full). Bake 18-20 minutes (or 10-12 for minis), or until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean. Transfer to a cooling rack and let cool completely.

For frosting, cream butter until smooth and fluffy, 2-3 minutes. Add 1 cup powdered sugar and beat until combined. Mix in orange juice, zest, and vanilla. Continue adding sugar, 1/2 cup at a time, mixing well after each addition (depending on the temperature of your butter, you may need more or less sugar or added cream to achieve the proper consistency). Continue beating until light and fluffy, about 3-5 minutes. Spread or pipe onto cooled cupcakes.

Top with a little curl of candied orange peel - basic recipe here.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

Two years ago: The Gabrielle Hamilton dinner at Lucques

Three years ago: The Willoughby Road food truck

Taking a Leap

This is a leap year. Last Wednesday was the twenty-ninth day of February. A date that occurs once every four years.

A leap year is a year containing one additional day in order to keep the calendar year synchronized with the astronomical year. Because seasons and astronomical events do not repeat in a whole number of days, a calendar that had the same number of days in each year would, over time, drift with respect to the event it was supposed to track. By occasionally inserting an additional day or month into the year, the drift can be corrected.

A year that is not a leap year is called a common year.

Admittedly, thus far, this year has been anything but common. At least for me.

But I’m not writing about me today. Well, not much. This one is about my mom. My mom is also anything but common. My mom is also taking a leap right now. This isn’t unusual for her – a woman that packed up her entire life at sixty-one years of age and moved clear across the country with nothing but her two Chihuahuas – to be closer to her daughter. That’s me.

Mom had accomplished a great deal in Richmond prior to up and leaving. She was a bit of a local celebrity there – reinvigorating the 17th Street Farmers' Market, establishing Shockoe Tomato Festival, The Brunswick Stew Festival, a street/art/food festival called Broad Appetît and opened an art gallery – all of which are going strong to this day. She had two cafes that enjoyed much success and appreciation. People still lament the absence of her lumples and  signature sandwich: grilled fresh roasted turkey, pistachio goat cheese spread and red onion on a glazed doughnut.

Since she arrived those three years ago she has had all sorts of unusual jobs. But none of them have resembled the work she did in Virginia. Not even remotely. Let’s face it: this town can be really tough. Really tough.

And so very recently my mom decided that by Independence Day she will be independent of her current job situation - one that is both unrewarding and grueling. 

She is taking a leap.

This past Sunday she launched a project she has been considering for some time now: La Weekend. On Sundays, in the lobby of her rad, old-school building in Koreatown, my mom has set up shop. She’s selling her amazing baked goods – sweet and savory - from breakfast pastries to lavender cupcakes to buttermilk and pecan pies to Ghirardelli brownies to apple cake to sandwiches and breads with compound butters. She’s also offering bottomless coffee (free if you bring your own mug) and iced tea infused with honey and Meyer lemon. Everything ranges from $1 to $4 – and that you cannot beat.

And, no joke, this woman can bake - it is her passion. She was doing all of the desserts for Dinner at Eight until recently. Nastassia said Mom's pecan pie was the best she had ever had (and Nastassia is quite the baker, herself). On Sunday a woman that ordered a slice of her buttermilk pie in the morning (who had never had buttermilk pie before) knocked on her door at five o’clock that afternoon to order a whole pie. So mom got back to baking. Heck, since I've been writing this she's told me she has received two more pie orders: another buttermilk pie and an apple pie.

It’s pretty cool. It’s like she’s got her own, little pop-up. People from the neighborhood and people from the building milling about, chatting, mingling, reading the paper, doing the crossword, watching their dogs running around in the grassy courtyard and around the fountain, Marvin Gaye crooning from the speakers, everyone with their coffee (mostly in their own mugs) and their little breakfasts. It’s something you don’t see in this big ocean of a town too much. My mom has brought that Southern, small town, sense of community to a little nook of Los Angeles. And did I mention she can bake?

You know I’m a savory girl. My favorite item of the day was something she calls Left on Red, a little tribute to a significant element of our fair city. It’s simple, it’s her signature pimiento cheese sandwiched between a plain lumple. It’s rich, creamy and salty surrounded by soft, slightly crumbly and crispy. It’s perfect. It’s filling, yet you’ll want to want another. It’s $3.

However, as I’ve shared the recipes for both pimiento cheese and lumples here in the past, today’s recipe is that of Byrd’s Apple Cake. Mom found the recipe in one of those local Junior League-y type cookbooks in Richmond.  You know, the kind that have spiral binding and very low printing expenses involved; yeah, that kind.  This cookbook is called "Historic Richmond Cooks" and the recipe was submitted by Mrs. James E. Ukrop.  These are the very cookbooks that have some of the best finds.

You can make it yourself or you can meet me, Fred, Maggie, Uncle Dougerton, Nastassia and the gang next Sunday to sample it straight from my mom. And she’ll probably be dancing to Marvin Gaye while she serves it to you.

Oh, and true to the monikor, La Weekend will be open on Saturdays as well after Mom's independence day. 


Until then La Weekend is: SUNDAYS from 9am-1pm  
Ancelle Lobby - 701 Gramercy Drive, Los Angeles CA 90005 
CASH ONLY

*All photo credits go to Mr. Fred Turko.

Byrd's Fresh Apple Cake

Note:  This is the recipe exactly as it appears in the cookbook.  Mom does not include dates; she uses pecans and Granny Smith apples, goes heavier on the cinnamon, puts in a little fresh ginger and 2 to 3 generous tablespoons of bourbon.

2 cups sugar

1 1/2 cups vegetable oil

2 eggs

2 teaspoons vanilla

1 teaspoon salt

juice of 1/2 lemon

3 cups all purpose flour

1 1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon nutmeg

1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

3 cups peeled and chopped fresh apples (about 3-4 apples)

1 cup chopped nuts 

1/2 cup chopped dates

Mix sugar, oil, eggs, vanilla, salt and lemon juice.  Beat well.  Sift flour, soda and spices.  Add flour mixture to sugar mixture and beat well.  Add fruit and nuts.  Mix well.  Bake in greased and floured Bundt pan at 325 for 1 1/2 hours.  

This cake freezes well.

Printable recipe

One year ago: Son of a Gun

Two years ago: Creamy Artichoke Soup

Being Sweet But Craving Savory

I’m not sure why, but I have been baking like crazy lately. And I don’t mean biscuits or chicken – I’ve been baking dessert-appropriate stuffs. I’ve been home a lot in the past week. Maybe it’s that. I’ve been trying not to go out and spend money. Maybe it’s that. Fred’s out of town. Could be that. I have also had a windfall of all-things-citrus growing in my canyon. So much so that I don’t know what to do with it all – and y’all know how I hate to waste a thing. Oh, and I have recently just reorganized the kitchen and discovered all sorts of baking-related tools I had forgotten that I had. I guess I thought it would be fun to put them to use – finally.

So I guess I’ve answered my own question as to why I’ve been on the baking jag.

Let’s see, I think it started with apple crumble muffins last week. I noticed Maggie had some apples in the crisper of the fridge that had gone unnoticed for some time and, I felt, were in dire need of saving. They turned out okay – or so I heard. I don’t eat the cooked fruit, so I didn’t have one. But I heard they were nice and moist.

Then I deigned to make my Mom’s lavender cupcakes. I have always loved them. The Portsmouth icing is so sweet and decadent it hurts my teeth (in a good way). That sweetness coupled with the cupcake’s simple, clean lavender-ness work really nicely together. I think. I gave most of those away, too, but I had a few bites here and there. They were delicious, if, perhaps not the most beautiful cupcakes I had ever seen.

Then Maggie and I teamed up to make an orange cake. I worked the cake part whilst Maggie worked the fruit part. It turned out all right but not great. We both thought it was a bit dry, but were confident we could get it right next time ‘round. It sure was pretty, though. And we had loads of fun doing it together.

Then a couple days after that I found a recipe for a grapefruit pound cake that I had to try. No, grapefruit was not growing in my hood, so I did have to do a little shopping for this one. I’d say this was my biggest success to date. The cake came out perfectly and it looked beautiful. Maggie, who had tasted everything thus far, agreed. In fact, I do believe she’s had at least three pieces already today.

Then today, I stumbled upon a recipe for orange-walnut cake. I had some black walnuts from the salad course of the last Dinner at Eight, and clearly I have oranges. Done. But when I needed to grease the cake pan, I remembered Maggie had left it in her car. And she wasn’t home. So orange-walnut muffins it was. I think these guys turned out pretty great. I would do a thing or two differently next time, but I’m not awesome at riffing in the baking department yet and the cake-to-muffin switcharoo at the last minute threw me for a loop. I made so many that I made Maggie take two thirds of them to work with her to share.

I’ve been baking something new practically every day for the past week. And nothing has been too shabby either. That makes me feel pretty good about my kitchen prowess.

But what’s ironic is that I haven’t been eating any of the stuff I’ve been baking. I’ve just been baking to bake.

But you know what I’ve been craving to eat? Oysters. I mean, I always crave oysters, so that’s no shocker. But about six months ago I discovered the bliss that is the Grilled Oyster. I was at Salt’s Cure. Ever since, I order them each time they are on the menu and ooh and ahh before and after every single bite. They are just barely cooked, you see. They still maintain their raw-ness, but not in essence. They are warm and they embody a sultry smokiness.  Grilling oysters over high heat really just saves you the trouble of shucking them first, since the intense heat forces the shells open on their own. They are nothing short of magic, I tell you.

Then, about a month ago, Fred took me to his family cabin in Inverness for a weekend. I loved it there. Everything about it. But one of the most amazing things that we did was buy a couple dozen fresh oysters from a guy with a stand between our road and the water. We then went back to the house and, though it was rainy and blustery - and now dark - Fred lit the charcoal grill out on the patio. While the coals got going we whipped up a salty, garlicky, lemony, buttery sauce. He put that on the grill in a little saucepan to keep it warm and, as each oyster popped open to tell us it was ready, he yanked it off the grill, forked it out of its shell, dunked it in the butter sauce and popped them into one of our mouths. It was so cold out that steam came out from our faces as we slurped away.

All of this with champagne, mind you.

Afterward, we went inside and built a fire.

I loved it there.

Hell, I guess I do miss Fred.

So, although you probably thought I was going to share with you a recipe from one of my baking adventures, I am really here to help you to have grilled oyster night all on your own. Just don’t forget the champagne.

Grilled Oysters with Garlicky, Lemony, Buttery Sauce

Serves 2

INGREDIENTS

12 fresh oysters

2 cloves garlic, finely minced

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

3 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 tablespoon Meyer lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon chili pepper flakes (or substitute with dashes of Tabasco)

1/4 teaspoon salt

cracked black pepper to taste

1 tablespoon finely minced parsley

DIRECTIONS

Heat a small sauce pan over medium-low heat. When hot, add the olive oil and the butter. Add the garlic and saute until fragrant, about 30 seconds. Add the lemon juice, chili pepper flakes, salt, pepper and parsley. Turn off heat.

Scrub oysters under running water; discard any that are open and do not close within a few seconds.

If you can find large, fat oysters, you can place the oysters directly on the grill grates. It's best to wear long, sturdy BBQ gloves so you can handle the oysters by hand instead of using tongs, spoons or spatula. However, if the oysters are small and flat, you'll run the risk of spilling its valuable, flavorful juices as well as the garlic-butter sauce.

Put oysters flat side-up directly on the grill when coals are pure white hot.

Remove with tongs when shells begin to open, about 5 minutes.

If you are a good shuck:
Shuck the oysters, spoon a little sauce in each oyster. Place oysters on a very hot, preheated grill, cover and cook for 5-6 minutes or until the edges of oysters curl slightly.

If you are a bad shuck:
Place the oysters, cup side up on a very hot, preheated grill, cover and cook for 1 minute. The oysters should now be slightly open. Quickly remove the oysters. Hold an oyster with an oven mitt and use a shucking knife (or a clean screwdriver if you don't have one) to pry open the oyster. It should easily open. Spoon sauce into each oyster and return oysters to the grill. Cover and grill 4-5 minutes.

Printable recipe

One year ago: I Left My Heart in San Fran-Cheesy; Part 2
Two years ago: She-Crab Soup with Avocado-Crème Fraiche Puree
Four years ago: Yang Chow