Granola the Hard Way

Now, you and I both know that homemade anything always trumps store-bought anything. But when it comes to granola, I’ve been willing to compromise. Granola is something that I don’t make from scratch because it’s easy to purchase a decent ready-made version of it. I use a sprinkling of it on plain yogurt and that’s it. It’s just a sprinkle! How good does it need to be?

Enter practical inspiration: I somehow over-purchased rolled oats and I couldn’t let it go to waste. Crunchy, fresh and sweet, last week’s homemade granola didn’t last more than 2 days.  Apparently, homemade granola is fantastic but you may have to judge for yourself.

Although granola is very easy to prepare, you’ll have to pay attention to it when it’s in the oven as it can burn quickly. Let me know if the homemade stuff was worth the effort.

Granola

3 cups rolled oats
1 cup slivered almonds
1/4 cup agave nectar
1/4 cup melted butter
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cup craisins

Combine everything except the craisins in a large bowl and mix well with a spoon. Spread the granola in 9×13 rimmed baking sheet. Bake at 325 degrees for 25-30 minutes or until light brown. Stir every 10 minutes. Remove from oven and mix in craisins. After the granola has cooled, it can be stored in an airtight container for up to 10 days.

Love Bites

This is love in the form of cake, just in time for Valentine’s Day.  I purchased these dainty and beautiful cake balls from my favorite local coffee house. We are now in an uncomplicated relationship; I love them. As decadent and addictive as they are, I especially love them for their honesty. They promised to be white chocolate raspberry and that’s exactly what they taste like.

Lovable Baked Tofu

Nobody is ever ambivalent about tofu. People either love it or hate it.

Tofu Lovers value tofu in the same way they value crossing guards, good oral hygiene, and recycling.  They believe tofu is honorable food. Just ask them. It’s low in fat, high in protein, versatile and inexpensive – you can eat it instead of meat! (How cool is that?) Virtuous and saintly, tofu is consumed by vegans and virgins alike. Some even say they like how it tastes.

Tofu Haters usually dislike tofu for at least one of three reasons: texture, taste, or an aversion to the word tofu. At some point in their lives, these unfortunate souls ingested bland, shapeless tofu. They never recovered from the experience. Don’t even get them started on tofurkey.

Tofu is made with curdled hot soymilk and a coagulant like nigari or calcium sulfate. The resultant curds are then formed into a block. Sounds appetizing, right? There are many variations of tofu.

I’ve used the following:

Firm: Firm tofu is dense and keeps its shape when cooked. It has a higher concentration of protein, fat and calcium. I use this kind the most because it’s substantial enough to survive stir-frying.

Soft: Soft tofu has more moisture in it than the firm variety. I usually use it in soup or with chopped pork.

Silken: Silken tofu is made without curdled soymilk. It has a creamy texture and can be blended or pureed with other ingredients. I once made vanilla pudding out of it.

So where does this leave us? With hope. It leaves us with hope. For most, the following recipe will not result in a transformative experience. However, it might induce a little respect.

Baked Tofu

1 cake firm tofu
¼ cup soy sauce
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 or 2 cloves garlic minced
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon finely grated fresh ginger

Prepare the tofu by cutting it into ½ inch thick triangles. To do this cut the tofu cake horizontally into thirds. Cut each third of tofu in half and then cut each half diagonally to create triangles. Set aside.

In a shallow baking dish combine the remainder of the ingredients. Add the tofu triangles to the mixture. Cover with plastic wrap and let the tofu marinate in the refrigerator for one hour making sure to flip the tofu at least once during that time.

Bake at 350◦ for 15 minutes or until the liquid has evaporated. Serve warm or at room temperature with a side of store-bought peanut sauce for dipping.

Why Are Pine Nuts So Expensive?

Exquisite and delectable, a little bowl of pine nuts is precious. These are pantry diamonds: coveted, expensive, and edible.

Pine nuts were always pricey, but not pricey enough to make me alter how I use them…until now. Recently for a dinner party, I planned to serve bulgur pilaf: a side dish that needs a generous cup of pine nuts to make it magical enough to transport me back to my grandmother’s kitchen. My local grocery sold them in 2 oz. packets for $3.89. Yikes! To keep things reasonable, I decided to reduce the $15 investment and serve, instead, an elegant mushroom tart appetizer with a flavorful but modest sprinkling of pine nuts.

The incident prompted me to investigate (Google) what made pine nuts so expensive.

Diminished supply coupled with increased demand make pine nuts costly. Apparently, the environment in which edible pine nut-producing trees grow is diminishing due to the usual suspects: deforestation and climate change. At the same time, it appears that the world has developed a taste for them. Pine nuts aren’t new; they’ve been harvested for more than 6000 years. It’s more likely that people are aware of the health benefits of eating nuts and, as a result, they’re consuming more of them.

Also contributing to the cost is the way they’re harvested; pine nuts are harvested by hand. Add them to your list of treasured but laboriously acquired foods like saffron and honey. The various methods for collecting and extracting pine nuts range from vigorous tree shaking to enthusiastic pine cone bashing. The pine nut market in the U.S. is worth about $100 million. Harvesting them is a labor of love and avarice.

The mushroom tart was a compromise, but definitely not a cheap thrill.

Mushroom Tart Appetizer

15 sheets phyllo dough (thawed according to pkg.)
½ stick melted butter

1 ½ lbs. white button mushrooms (or assorted mushrooms)
2 tbsp. melted butter/1 tbsp. olive oil
1/2  cup chopped onion

1/2 cup baby mozzarella
2-3 ounces pine nuts
sea salt and pepper to taste

Roughly chop the mushrooms and saute them in the butter/olive oil mixture until they are no longer moist. Add the onions and continue cooking until the onions are soft. Set aside.

Generously grease a cookie sheet and place one sheet of the phyllo dough on it. Lightly brush melted butter over the sheet. Be careful not to saturate the dough with butter.  Add another sheet on top of the first and again brush with melted butter. Layer the remainder of the sheets, making sure to brush each layer with butter before adding the next. Fold the edges of the tart inwards to form an edge. If needed, brush the edge with melted butter to make it stick.

Evenly spread the mushroom mixture on top of the tart. Sprinkle with mozzarella and pine nuts. Add salt and pepper.

Bake in oven at 350 for 7-10 minutes or until the phyllo dough turns a light gold. Can be served warm or at room temperature.

Chicken with Thyme and Lemon

A pan full of this luscious chicken is simple to cook, but I like to fuss with it anyway.  It’s just the right dish to prepare when I’m in the mood for a little contemplative sauteing. Sauteing is the equivalent of doodling while talking on the phone; I use an old wooden spoon to give absentminded nudges to chicken and onions while I think of nothing in particular or everything at once.

1 1/2 lbs. boneless, skinless chicken thighs
3 tbsp. olive oil
1 small onion, chopped
3 clove garlic, roughly chopped
8 oz. low salt chicken broth
3 sprigs of fresh thyme
4 slices of lemon, about 1/4 inch thick
salt and pepper to taste

Heat the olive oil in a pan over medium heat. Saute the chicken thighs until they just begin to lose their pink color on the outside. Add the onions and saute until they become translucent. Add the garlic and cook for about 30 seconds.

Add the chicken broth, thyme, and lemon and bring to a vigorous simmer. Turn the heat down to low, cover, and simmer until the chicken is tender, about 25 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

Spanish Potato Omelet

There is something insidious about a five ingredient dish that causes you to entertain fantasies about hiding out somewhere and devouring the whole thing by yourself. I’m just saying.

I brought this as an appetizer to a potluck over the weekend where I added a sprinkle of crispy sautéed leeks on top of the finished omelet. In the future, I might add mushrooms, pepper or maybe a nice lemony aioli on the side. Today, I served it with a healthy sliver of nova lox and ate it for breakfast.

Because the end result should be a creamy confluence of egg, onion and potato, pay attention to what you’re dong when you make this.  Don’t let the potatoes brown, as stiff potatoes will ruin the texture of the dish. Also, when it comes time to flip, be sure to have a plate on hand that is slightly larger in diameter than the pan you’re cooking the omelet in.

1/2 cup olive oil
5 large potatoes, sliced very thin
1 onion, sliced thin
5 eggs, lightly beaten in a large bowl
salt and pepper to taste
chopped parsley (optional)

Heat 1/4 cup of the olive oil in a 10 inch skillet over medium heat. Cover the bottom of the skillet with a layer of potatoes. Add a layer of onion. Drizzle some of the remaining olive oil and add salt and pepper to taste. Add another layer of potato, a layer of onion, and then drizzle with the remaining oil. Salt and pepper to taste.

Turning once or twice, cook the potato mixture over medium heat until tender. Taste or prick with a fork to see if they’re tender. Don’t let the potatoes brown.

When the potatoes are cooked, drain the mixture in a colander and reserve the olive oil. Cool the potato mixture for about 10 minutes then add the mixture to the eggs. Allow the potato-egg mixture to rest for 10 minutes.

Add 2 tablespoons of the reserved oil back into the pan and heat it until very hot. Add the potato-egg mixture to the pan. Quickly and carefully spread the mixture evenly throughout the pan. Lower the heat to medium. Shake the pan periodically to prevent sticking. Cook for about 6 minutes.

When the mixtures begins to brown, loosen the sides of the omelet with a spatula. Place a plate that is a little larger than the skillet over the skillet. Take the skillet off the stove and flip the omelet onto the plate.

Add 1 tablespoon oil into the skillet. Add the omelet, cooked side up, back to the skillet and cook for another 5 minutes.

Transfer the omelet to a plate and garnish with parsley. The omelet can be served hot or at room temperature. Serves 8 as an appetizer.

Carmel Farmers Market: The Hot List

In theory I love to shop at the Carmel Farmers Market.  In reality I love to sleep in on Saturday mornings. Consequently, I am not among the throngs of perky visitors who make it to the market by 8:00 a.m.

I didn’t think I was missing too much by strolling in around 10 but I wasn’t sure. So last week I decided to show up around 8:30 and mine the market for hidden treasure. I asked some vendors to name the item in their booth that usually sells out first. 

These fabulous pretzels from A Taste of Philly are the only offering at the booth. There’s usually a long line to get them and I happen to know they are addictive.

3 in 1 Restaurant’s best seller is the pupusa. Pupusas are made from thick corn tortilla and stuffed with cheese, chicken or pork.

Luscious green beans from Fields Farm are among the first of the produce to disappear.

These little bundles of goodness or rolls from the BrotGarten are a farmers market favorite.

With a little luck and a good night’s sleep, I might just get to the market early enough to add some more best sellers to my list.

Persimmon Pulp Goodness

Miller’s Ice Cream House

Persimmon pudding (middle), persimmon ice cream (right), vanilla ice cream

White Mountain Machine

As a self-proclaimed food snob, I didn’t think I’d come across anything new to eat in Nashville, Indiana. It’s a character flaw. So I strut into town thinking I’m all that when I am stopped dead in my pretentious tracks by a persimmon.

Strolling past Miller’s Ice Cream House my friend and I were confronted by a  little sign that got our attention with the words “homemade persimmon pudding.”  Actually those words got my friend’s attention. I was distracted by the giant ice cream cone; it doesn’t take much. As soon as I read “persimmon” the word hung, falsely remembered for a moment, as I realized I didn’t know what a persimmon was.

We were happy to learn that Miller’s Ice Cream House also makes persimmon ice cream. (duh)   So, for the sake of this very blog post, we taste-tested this wonderful treat consisting of persimmon pudding, persimmon ice cream and vanilla ice cream.

The pudding tasted a little bit like pumpkin pie because of the way it was seasoned.  It had the consistency of bread pudding and turned out to be a great compliment to the ice cream.  The persimmon ice cream was very delicate and tasted like sweet squash mixed with sweet cream, but it was not overly sweetened.  It had a refreshing and subtle flavor that didn’t linger on my tongue.  It was weird and delicious like how I imagine unicorn meat would taste like.

Persimmons are a native Indiana fruit. Who knew? Miller’s uses local Indiana persimmon pulp for both the pudding and ice cream (they use fresh ingredients in their other flavors too). Using the original ice cream machine they started the business with in 1970, Miller’s cranks out gallons of gourmet ice cream sometimes daily. It’s worth the visit just to be surprised and in some cases, like mine, to be humbled.

Hot Dog Hearing

On occasion, I can tell a restaurant is good by how it sounds. During the first bite of my Chicago Dog at Zacky’s Hot Dogs, I overheard the man at the next table telling owner Zack Darring this story:

“So…there was this guy walking down the street with a 3 legged pig.  Curious, I couldn’t pass him by without finding out about the pig.”

The guy says, “This is one of the most amazing pigs I’ve ever owned.”

“Oh yeah,” I say, “why’s that?”

“Last month this pig saved my son from drowning in a lake.  He dove into the water, hoisted my boy on his back, and swam to shore.”

“That is amazing,” I agreed.

“That’s not all,” the man continued, “My cousin wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for this pig.  When my cousin had a heart attack the pig called 911 and gave him CPR while we waited for the paramedics.”

“That really is an incredible pig,” I said, “but why does he have three legs?”

“Well, with a pig this special, I can’t just eat him all at once.”

By the punch line, patrons within earshot gave a collective chuckle.  There was genuine bonding going on: we all laughed, ate hot dogs, and exchanged amused glances.    Witnessing the neighborhood business mojo made me want to hang out at Zacky’s more often. You’ll want to hang out at Zacky’s too.  It’s a friendly family owned business that serves up, among other favorites, the identical twin of the Chicago Dog called, that’s right, the Chicago Dog.  You could stand in line at Wrigley Field and wait for your dog to be anonymously assembled or if you’re in Carmel, you can have Darring and family cook one up especially for you.

A short lunch break prevented me from sampling other items on the menu like the Indy Blue Dog or the B.L.T Dog.  Really, it’s ok; I’ll be back. After all, they had me at “there was this guy…”

Have you encountered a local establishment that keeps you coming back?

One Man’s Spoon is Another Man’s Spoon

Some people can swoon over a spoon.  Spoon love much like table saw love or paint brush love is easily appreciated but rarely revealed.    My husband and I were at a friend’s home for dinner where soup was served.  It wasn’t immediately obvious until I was several sips into my meal, but my spoon was perfect.

It was elegantly tapered with a modestly deep bowl that accommodated a generous mouthful of liquid without overwhelming.  It felt balanced in my hand, the bowl being nearly proportionate in weight to the handle.  I contemplated the absence of soup spoons in my own kitchen and felt like I discovered gold.

I pictured myself thrusting the spoon in the air and declaring “Behold this spoon in all of its common glory!” but instead I said “This is a nice spoon. Where did you get it from?”  For a moment I caught the eye of my host, but he played it cool and said that it belonged to his neighbor…not his spoon.  Intrigued, I pressed him for more detail about the neighbor’s superior spoon.

Our host told us that two weeks ago when he was ill, a neighbor was kind enough to bring him homemade soup and a spoon with which to eat it.  While convalescing, he quickly recognized the spoon’s perfection and continued to use it long after the soup and his illness had disappeared.  Most mornings he dug around for it in the silverware drawer so he could use it for oatmeal.   There was a glimmer of uneasiness in him as he confessed.   I told him I understood; after all, I loved a bowl once.

Around me, puny teaspoons and awkward tablespoons clinked indelicately:  mediocre vessels for soup.   Luckily, no one grasped the injustice of their situation; I was the only one with a decent spoon. I knew it. Our host knew it.

The neighbor was careless to lend out such a treasure.