Greek Yogurt Lemon Tart with Rosemary Almond Crust

SWEET
TART
CLEAN
REFRESHING
GLUTEN FREE

sweet tart lemony citrus desserts are so refreshing especially this lovely tart with it's little rosemary kick.
i seem to forget about lemon desserts.  they get pushed aside for the dark chocolate, the savory peanut butter and the gooey caramel goodies.  i often post about bacon, chocolate, pig ears, pork belly and various decadent sweets and savories, but i bet you'd never guess... i actually DO eat a lot of yogurt, egg whites, grilled fish, steamed vegetables, aloe vera, kombucha, blah blah blah...
i call it my "yin and yang theory".
a little good and a little bad keeps everything in balance.

but...about this recipe...
i'd say it weighs in on the "good for you" side.  i found the original lemon rosemary tart on pinterest at Good Things Grow and pinned it to my "must-try" board.  i finally got around to it, but wanted to make a gluten free crust.  i am not gluten free, but i love to experiment and i have a few gluten free friends.
the original almond crust comes to you from Flourishing Foodie.  i love the almond flour crust idea so i just added the fresh dried rosemary...delicious.  the crust was crisp out of the oven and would be perfect served the day of, but alas...i needed to shoot the tart the next day so i stuck the finished product into the fridge.  the crust lost it's crunch, but was still a winner.  i would compare it to a cheesecake style crust.  it holds up and slices well, but got a little moist after refrigeration.  solution?...i added some crispy lightly toasted almond slivers to the servings and "voila"...the crunch was back in the mix..

Rosemary Almond Crust
Gluten Free
almond flour crust original found at Flourishing Foodie

2 cups almond flour
2 Tbsp granulated sugar
pinch of sea salt
1 1/2 tsp fresh oven dried rosemary
1/4 cup unsalted butter, chilled and cubed
1 egg white
1/2 tsp vanilla bean paste

preheat oven to 400F.  lightly butter a 9 inch tart shell.  i used a silicon pastry brush.

in a food processor add almond flour, sugar, salt, rosemary, butter, vanilla bean paste and egg white.  pulse until all ingredients are combined and start to stick together, resembling coarse meal...do not over blend...it will get mushy and ball up.

put mixture into tart shell and press out with your hands and form up the sides of the shell.  create an even layer.  i used a flat glass to lightly tamp  it down.  it will seem quite thin, but will cook to a nice crust as shown.

bake on middle rack for 15-20 minutes, or until it is light brown.  remove from oven and cool completely.

GREEK YOGURT LEMON VANILLA BEAN CUSTARD FILLING
original found at Good Things Grow

1 cup plain greek yogurt
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 to 1 1/2 tsp lemon zest
1/2 tsp vanilla bean paste

preheat oven to 350F
place yogurt, vanilla bean paste and sugar in a medium bowl and whisk until thoroughly combined.  whisk in the egg, one at a time, then add the lemon juice and zest.  whisk until completely smooth.

pour into prepared tart crust.  i poured as much as i could and only had 1-2 Tbsp left over.
BAKE at 350F for 25-30 minutes or until the center is set and only slightly jiggles.  mine was in for 28 minutes and i could have pulled it at 26 minutes.  as you see i had a few cracks, but it was not over cooked.

allow to cool completely.  stick it in the fridge for just a slight chill and a complete "set"...i refrigerated mine over night and the crust got a little moist.  it resembled a graham cracker crust, but still delicious.  i think it would be best to slightly chill and serve the day of.  this tart served very well.  it might be a bit more crumbly (not a bad thing), yet...crunchy and crisp if served the day of.

I'm the Dog Walker.

Oddly enough, I've been to very few weddings. A lot of people complain about weddings, like they're a drag or something. I love them. I love looking at all of the people, watching the families interact, figuring out who knows whom, who tolerates whom, you get the idea. I love to watch the eccentric great aunt with her shaky, little hands, clutching her champagne glass smeared with red lipstick smudges around the rim and crumbs of God knows what permanently lodged in the corners of her mouth. I love the awkward little children, dressed up like adults, the boys looking miserable and uncomfortable and the girls loving their princess hair and dresses and all of the attention. I love watching the bride's second cousin flirting with the groom's best man's brother, and sneaking off to hook up after just enough champagne, wine and cocktails to chalk it up to 'weddings'.

I love the formality, the process. I love watching the groom's face, and see his eyes light up (or fill with tears) when he first lays eyes on his very soon-to-be-bride walking down the aisle toward him. And, at that moment, I always cry a little. I love how awkward they are. I love that as a result of how awkward they are, and how no one really knows anyone all that well, no one is really themselves; rather people take on a veil of anonymity. And pretty much everyone over indulges in some way or another.

I love wedding food. I love food in chafing dishes. I love the taco themes, or the tapas themes, the big-fat-Greek-wedding themes, I love choosing either the salmon or the roast beef. I love the over cornstarchy, congealed sauce that is poured over either one. I love the extremeley cooked carrots and green beans with mashed potatoes and gravy. And, of course, I love the cake.

It's wonderful that everyone dances (to all manner of bad music). Everyone laughs. Everyone cries. Everyone talks. Everyone eats and everyone drinks. Family and friends from all over the country, or even the world, perfect strangers, yet all thrust together because of another couple's union. And everyone at least pretends to be happy, jubilant even. Until they receive the next wedding invitation whereupon they complain what a drag weddings are.

It had been at least five years since my last wedding, until this past weekend. One of my clients was getting married. And she wanted her dog, Giovanni, to be in the wedding. To be specific, she wanted me to escort Giovanni to the wedding and make sure he made it down the aisle with his "grandfather" (the bride's dad).  An ordinary day. Giovanni is an awesome dog and I adore him. Giovanni is a Pug. It was a hot day: Giovanni mouth breathes like a Pug, is a tiny bit chubby, and does not love the heat.

I followed the wedding planners' instructions to the T: I drove Giovanni downtown at five pm and parked outside the venue.  We were escorted in by one of the planners; I then waited to hand him off to the bride's father at the proper time. Oh, did I mention Giovanni was wearing a tuxedo?  A snug tux at that--couldn't fasten the bottom button.  So here I am in downtown LA at 5 pm on what seemed the hottest day of the year with a chubby Pug in a tux.  After Giovanni's down the aisle promenade with granddad I was to take him and wait until the conclusion of the ceremony at which point the wedding photographer was going to get a few shots of the happy couple with Giovanni.  Then Gio and I were free to go.

Everything went as planned. Except there were no side aisles. So for the first few moments of the ceremony, I sat in the very front row, next to the VIPs and the parents, who must have wondered who this bold stranger might be. I quietly explained, “I'm the dog walker”, and they seemed relieved. So, Gio's granddad walked his daughter and her dog down the aisle and it was touching. As always, while everyone else was craning their necks to catch that first glimpse of the bride, I watched the groom's face, and could tell exactly when he laid eyes on her, in her dress, for the first time. And I cried a little.

After that, Giovanni was quickly handed to me and, while the ceremony began to hit its stride, I had to awkwardly duck back up the center aisle, the only aisle. The very aisle that still had the lingering scent of the bride's perfume as she had just walked down it not six seconds prior. And, of course, with Giovanni panting very audibly in his tuxedo. A graceful exit it was not.

Then, Gio and I were shown to a corner in the back of the reception area to wait for the ceremony to end. A couple of the caterers and staff were curious about what we were doing back there, all alone, no champagne. “I'm the dog walker," I told them.

Then, as fast as it began, it was over. And while Giovanni was photographed with his just married mom and dad, I waited by the front door of the venue with the valets. Then a woman stepped outside for some air and since we were the only non-valets standing there, she felt compelled to say, “Hi, I'm Evelyn, the groom's sister. Are you with bride or groom?” To which I confidently replied, “Hi, I'm the dog walker!”

And so, as the bride and groom went back inside to enjoy the reception, the meal, the dancing and the champagne with all of their family and friends, Giovanni and I hopped back in the car to head back to my house to relax. And man, was he happy to get that tux off.

Back at my place, it was dinner time. I fed the pups their kibble and Fred poured us a couple of glasses of Vino Verde to sip while we got to our Saturday night project: making ricotta, which was something I had wanted to do for a very long time – ever since I saw the recipe in Saveur six or so years ago and ripped out the pages. As the milk and cream were heating up on the stove, I told him about how it felt so strange to have been a part, in even the tiniest way, of one of the most important days in two people's lives, but to have been so very invisible. I wasn't really even there. And I didn't mind one bit – though a glass of champagne would have been much appreciated.

As we sat down to the table to eat our dinner of grilled pork tenderloin (with an amazing dry rub) and zucchini with Niçoise olives and homemade ricotta, I realized I definitely got my wedding fix. I got the vibe. I watched the families, the couples, the singles scoping out their next flirt target. There was champagne, and spicy margaritas. It was a taco theme, with mariachis and the whole bit. I did what most women who have not yet had their own wedding do (and have thought about since they were six years old), compare it to what they would do differently, take note of what worked, little details, décor, style, all of it. And before Giovanni and I left, I did get a hug from the bride and groom – which is actually pretty hard to get at a lot of weddings, with all of the hullabaloo. Especially for the dog walker.

Would I serve this dish at my wedding? Perhaps. But man alive, the ricotta that we made was out of this world. Light, airy, buttery, creamy, rich, and delicate. We ate it in everything for three days straight, until it was gone. We even ate it for dessert; a heap of it in a bowl topped with lemon zest, honey and almonds.

Zucchini with Niçoise Olives and Homemade Ricotta

8-10 servings

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

8 medium zucchini (about 3 1/4 pounds)—halved lengthwise, seeded and cut into 1/3-inch dice

3 lemon thyme sprigs

Kosher salt

1 teaspoon finely grated lemon zest

1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice

1/2 cup pitted Niçoise olives, chopped

Freshly ground pepper

3/4 pound ricotta (here's how to make your own)

1 tablespoon fresh mint, chopped, plus a sprig for garnish

In a very large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of the olive oil. Add one-third of the zucchini, 1 lemon thyme sprig, a generous pinch of salt and 1/4 cup of water and cook over moderately high heat, stirring occasionally, until the zucchini is barely tender and the water has evaporated, about 5 minutes; add more water if the zucchini starts to brown. Transfer the zucchini to a baking sheet to cool; discard the thyme sprig. Wipe out the skillet and repeat twice more with the remaining olive oil, lemon thyme, zucchini and salt, adding 1/4 cup of water to each batch.

In a large bowl, toss the cooled zucchini with the grated lemon zest, lemon juice, mint and olives. Season with salt and pepper and transfer to a serving platter. Arrange the ricotta over the zucchini, garnish with a sprig of mint and serve.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Poblano-Sherry Vinegar Mignonette

Two years ago: Classic Southern Fried Chicken

Three years ago: Wolvesmouth

Four years ago: Steak au Poivre

Swimming Into the Spotlight.

Yellow Umbrella, or Yellah Umbrellah as many Richmonders call it, has been serving up choice seafood in Richmond's West End since my whole life (they opened in 1975). I only learned about the place a few years ago but it quickly became my The Go-To for extraordinary – and sustainably harvested - fresh fish (when I was in town, of course). I also always had to grab some of their remarkable prepared cheese grits right before checking out. Random, right? Not in the South.

This past February they moved. Across the street. You can throw a rock, it's so close. But now they are way bigger and even better. I imagine much to Belmont Butchery's chagrin, they now boast a nose-to-tail, butcher shop with humanely-raised meat. Even better, they offer 'cellar-to-table' wines and cheeses, seasonal produce, artisanal breads and homemade prepared foods.

On their website they claim to have 'fanatical and quality service', and I'm here to tell you it is absolutely true. A week or so ago, whilst my dad, Fred and I began planning a dinner party for six people, their intrepid Travis endured twenty-four hours and a myriad of phone calls from yours truly. During one return call I mistook Travis for my friend, Spencer, and squealed familiarly; during another, Travis thought I called him 'honey' – I'm pretty sure I didn't, but one never knows. I for sure knew I wanted whole fish. They expected whole Rockfish, Red Snapper and Branzino delivered the next day and did not know the exact specs of the fish. Why?

Because someone had to go catch the fish.

So, my new BFF, Travis, called me first thing the next morning with the option of fifteen pounds and over thirty inches of Rockfish. That was definitely the option I desired most but I was quickly reminded that cooking something of that size would be impossible. There was no way it would fit in the oven or the grill. Parade rained on, I settled for four large Branzino and about six pounds of mussels. And a huge chunk of those cheese grits. They scaled and gutted the fish right there in front of us in the store, and even asked if we wanted heads and tails on – which we did.

We cooked everything that night. Dad was on fish duty, Fred took the Mussel patrol, and I was assigned 'the sides' (I made a delicate salad of frisée, lightly dressed with finishing oil, lemon and salt, and roasted sunchokes with a buttery bagna cauda). The mussels were so plump, briny and rich – and the Branzino – which we roasted whole, was bracingly fresh, simple and exquisite.

Back in LA and doing some grocery shopping yesterday, I poked around the fish counter to check out my options. They had whole Branzino, but even to say that it paled in comparison would be weak. Paz had a memorable Yellah Umbrellah story to share: she bought a whole Red Snapper from them once and named her fish Carl. I recall her sending me a picture of Carl. This was probably about four years ago and she still waxes on about Carl, the most beautiful, freshest fish she had ever seen and eaten. Ask her about him, I'm serious.

The crew at Yellow Umbrella Provisions are doing something singular and noteworthy. I honestly think their product is unparalleled and the people behind it are equally so. I just don't understand why they are still in the best-kept-secret category.

When I return, I'm going to go back and give Travis a hug.

Spicy Coconut Mussels with Lemongrass

Serves 2

2 tablespoons coconut or safflower oil

1 shallot, finely chopped

3 garlic cloves, finely chopped

1 stalk lemon grass, trimmed (outer layers removed) and finely chopped

1 serrano chile, seeded and finely chopped

1 cup unsweetened coconut milk

2 pounds fresh mussels, rinsed well & de-bearded

Zest of 1/2 lemon

1 teaspoon lemon juice, or to taste

1/2 teaspoon fish sauce, or to taste

1/2 cup whole cilantro leaves

Heat the oil in the bottom of a large pot until hot. Add the shallot, garlic, lemon grass and chile. Cook over medium heat until soft, about 3 minutes. Add the coconut milk and mussels. Cover with a tight-fitting lid and cook until the mussels have opened, 5 to 7 minutes (discard any mussels that remained closed). Remove from heat, and use a slotted spoon to transfer the mussels to a large bowl, leaving the liquid in the pot. Stir the lemon zest and juice, fish sauce and cilantro into the pot. Taste and add more fish sauce and/or lemon juice if needed (fish sauce provides the salt).

Scoop the mussels into a large serving bowl. Pour the remaining sauce on top. Finish with a generous sprinkling of fresh cilantro. Add lemon or lime wedges on the side.

Serve with crusty French loaf to help soak up the juices.

A good, crisp white wine pairs nicely with this dish. 

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Pasture

Two years ago: Classic Tuna Salad

Three years ago: Paz's World Famous Rice & Beans

Cooking the Book(s).

There is so much I want to tell you. I'm this close, I promise. Until I can tell you, trust me, I'm going a little crazy myself. I am going through a major period of hurry-up-and-wait stuff right now. I know that everything will be clear soon enough, but being tremendously impatient coupled with my control freakdom makes the hurry-up-and-wait times extraordinarily difficult. And I'm kind of on a diet. No carbs and no wine. Until I go visit home in two weeks. This has been going on since the beginning of the month. Okay, so let us now add the fact that I am not allowing myself crispety crunchety saltedy things or wine (wine, y'all!) along with tremendously impatient coupled with control freakdom. And it's tax time.

I do realize this is hardly a very major diet. But pasta and wine are pretty much life forces for me. And those very life forces have slowly been forcing me out of my jeans. So there you go.

What's great is that Fred is in it to win it with me. And he has done this before, and is better at it. Actually, Fred has been the one cooking the majority of our 'dietary' meals thus far. He has felt inspired in the kitchen whereas I have felt defeated. I keep looking at that coy bucatini, pointing and smiling at me, the potatoes, now with their glib eyes and ears, watching, listening, mocking me. And the damn wine. That half bottle of Pinot Blanc in the back of the fridge, becoming sour and pursing its lips, “Tsk, Tsk, Elliott. Tsk, Tsk.”

So I eat an almond and perhaps a hardboiled egg and despondently wander out of the kitchen to the den to watch an episode of Iron Chef America and endure. I endure the dumb diet and I wait. I wait for the news about this and the word on that and for my jeans to have a bit more room for me in them again.

The funny thing about the dietary restrictions which I have imposed on myself – they really are not a hill to die on. I can eat most stuff. And if getting crunked mattered, I am allowed to drink spirits. In fact, I had a martini last night. But that's just not my thing. And, unfortunately for me, I have yet to jump on the coktails-with-food train. For me, it is, and always has been, wine. It would appear that wine is being replaced with whine. Apologies.

Listen, the sun is shining, the air is warm and filled with floral scents, I'm healthy, I'm in love, I have tremendously wonderful and loyal friends, and the future looks very bright. I know all of that. So let's call off the WhaAAaaaAmbulance, shall we?

Just recently, I bought a couple of stunningly, eye-arrestingly, beautiful cookbooks (making my collection the envy/horror of any hoarder). I like to read cookbooks. I like to read cookbooks like novels. I like to pore over every image, or illustration, and let my eyes stop and rest on each color, texture and shape of food, pot, napkin, fork, tabletop, background and light source before I read through its recipe and story. It soothes me. In a world where, at times, I feel I can control very little, I can look at that recipe and now that, once I round up all of the right ingredients, I can do that, too. I can make that beautiful, delicious dish all by myself. I can make something big and whole from little, tiny, seemingly disparate elements. In one room of my life, my kitchen, I am in complete control. Unless, of course, I try to make bread. I can't seem to make bread.

One of the cookbooks I alluded to above is called Jerusalem. If you're a food geek, or a cookbook person, I am certain you are aware of it. The cover alone will stop you in your tracks. As I was reading through it last week I noticed that many of the recipes were compatible with my carbohydrate-free, sugar-free diet. And so yesterday, seeing as I had a very little on the calendar with work, I went out into the great big City of Angels and foraged for all of the elements to make the cover recipe.

I know I very rarely reprint other people's recipes. I like to share my own. Plus, if you want a recipe from a cookbook, you can just go find it. No need to reference it here. But for those of you who have not yet picked up your own copy of this book, perhaps this will propel you to do so.

The ingredients should not be too hard to find. The things you may have difficulty finding, like the harissa paste, are remedied easily: make it yourself. I did.

Following my shopping expedition, I put all of the ingredients away in the kitchen and took a late afternoon nap.Then I popped up, put a record on the turntable and got cracking. I made the yogurt sauce, the harissa, and the Zhoug, charred my tomatoes, and put them aside. As I chopped the onion and sliced the garlic for the ground lamb, I realized how calm I felt. As the world around me felt chaotic, unsure, and out of my own control, here I was, in my little kitchen, conducting my very own symphony. And everything was pitch perfect.

The great thing about this recipe is that it appears complicated – and in some ways it is – it's ultimately pretty straightforward and undemanding. You will, however, dirty many a dish in the process.

The even better thing about this dish is, though it has no butter, bread or bread-like things, or cheese, it is extremely satisfying and fulfilling. It is rich with layers of texture, color, temperatures, and flavors. It tastes really complex. This dish would gratify an indulgent brunch or a simple dinner. This recipe and this dish really is like a symphony. And the best part is, you get to be both the conductor and the audience.

And during tax time, isn't it nice to know you can be in complete control of something and indulge in it as well?

Braised Eggs with Lamb, Tahini & Sumac

From Jerusalem by Yotam Ottolenghi & Sami Tamimi

Serves 4

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 large onion, finely chopped
6 cloves of garlic, sliced thinly
10 oz/300g ground lamb
2 teaspoon sumac plus extra to finish
1 teaspoon ground cumin
scant 1/2 cup/50g toasted unsalted pistachios
7 tablespoons toasted pine nuts
2 teaspoons harissa paste
1 tablespoon finely chopped preserved lemon peel 
1 1/3 cups/200g cherry tomatoes
1/2 cup/120 ml chicken stock
4 large free-range eggs
1/4 cup/5 g picked cilantro leaves, or 1 tbsp Zhoug (recipe in cookbook)
salt and freshly ground black pepper

Yogurt Sauce
scant 1/2 cup / 100 g Greek yogurt
1 1/2 tablespoons/ 25g tahini paste
2 tablespoons freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tablespoon water (as needed)

Heat the olive oil over medium-high heat in a medium, heavy-bottomed frying pan for which you have a tight fitting lid. Add the onion and garlic and sauté for 6 minutes to soften and color a bit. Raise the heat to high, add the lamb, and brown well, 5 to 6 minutes. Season with sumac, cumin, 3/4 teaspoon salt, and some black pepper and cook for another minute. Turn off the heat, stir in the nuts, harissa, and preserved lemon and set aside.

While the onion is cooking, heat a separate small caste-iron pan over high heat. Once piping hot, add the cherry tomatoes and char for about 4-6 minutes, tossing them in the pan occasionally, until slightly blackened on the outside. Set aside.

Prepare the yogurt sauce by whisking together all the ingredients with a pinch of salt. In needs to be thick and rich but you may need to add a slash of water if it is stiff.

Add the chicken stock to the meat and bring to a boil. Make 4 small wells in the mix and break an egg into each well. Cover the pan and cook the eggs over low heat for 3 minutes.

Place the tomatoes on top, avoiding the yolks, cover again, and cook for 5 minutes, until the egg whites are cooked but the yolks are still runny.

Remove from the heat and dot with dollops of the yogurt sauce, sprinkle with sumac, and finish with cilantro.

Serve at once.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: 'Eggs in a Basket' with Maple Bacon, Fontina & Chives

Two years ago: Lamb Chops with Cumin, Cardamom & Lime

Three years ago: Ludobites 4.0

Out Like a Lamb.

The end of March is nigh, and thus is Easter. Passover is happening right now. It's a big time for a lot of people. And plants. Plants are having a blast right now. And people are having a blast with plants. Or, at least, Fred and I are.

When we last spoke, I had mentioned having chatted around to get a feel as to what food things meant to people with regard to Easter. I ended up settling on chocolate and lamb, though not necessarily together – which might not be a bad idea, come to think of it. So I shared a chocolate recipe.

So you probably know where we will be going with this. Lambville.

Coming from completely non-religious parents, other than the Easter Bunny covertly surprising me with an Easter basket each year at my mom's house, Easter meant little else. I don't even recall a special meal. So after sifting through people's responses to my query about what Easter represented, culinarily, to them, I went about figuring out what it meant to me. And I decided to embark on the most traditional Easter supper I have ever had. First order on the agenda: order a giant leg of lamb.

I like lamb just fine, now, but as a child it unnerved me a little. I think it was just the gamey-ness of the meat. It wasn't on the dinner table too often at home, but I know Dad loved it. He always ordered it at the Greek restaurant in our neighborhood. He loved their Lamb Guvetsi.

As I mentioned, years ago, like 2005, I heard Nigella Lawson interviewedon NPR around this time of year. She was promoting her then new book, Feast, a cookbook devoted primarily to celebrations, holidays and entertaining. I vividly recall her discussing her favorite Easter meal, and the great detail with which she described a saffron roasted leg of lamb and some sticky, crispy garlic potatoes. Obviously it stuck with me if eight years later that was the first thing to pop into my head when I decided to make my first, big Easter dinner. So I started planning the menu, the flowers, the dining room look, and called some friends.

Easter dinner was so happening.

Two days before the event I put the lamb in its marinade and refrigerated it. The day before, while Fred went out to get all of our groceries, flowers and the like, I poked around on the computer to find out why lamb in the Spring, and why lamb on Easter. Why throughout the entire world the most popular Easter symbol is the lamb. I'm sure, as usual in this department, everyone else already knows this stuff, but I'm new here.

The roast lamb dinner that many eat on Easter Sunday goes back earlier than Easter to the first Passover of the Jewish people. The sacrificial lamb was roasted and eaten, together with unleavened bread and bitter herbs (a Seder) in hopes that the angel of God would pass over their homes and bring no harm. As Hebrews converted to Christianity, they naturally brought along their traditions with them. The Christians often refer to Jesus as The Lamb of God. Thus, the traditions merged.

In the 7th century the Benedictine monks wrote a prayer for the blessing of lambs.

A few hundred years later the pope adopted it and a whole roasted lamb became the feature of the Pope's Easter Dinner, and has been ever since.

I wasn't going to roast a whole lamb, of course. Just one of its legs.

Now this lamb recipe involved saffron, which I absolutely love. I know a lot of people do not, however. It seems to be one of those ingredients like cilantro: people either love it or hate it. And I understand. Also, like cilantro, it has an unmistakable, very distinct aroma and taste. The thin, delicate, muted red hair-like strands are fragrant, floral, earthy, and honey-like with a bit of bitterness. Saffron also happens to be the most expensive spice in the world. Use too much and that will be the only thing you take away from that dish. With saffron, the words 'a little goes a long way' have never been more accurate. A little dab will do ya.

It's no surprise that you will find a wealth of recipes with saffron and lamb together. Kind of like chocolate and peanut butter, they just make sense. They are also both prominent elements in a lot of Middle-Eastern cuisine. Actually, it's funny, lamb takes me back to eating Greek food with my dad, and I used Greek saffron with my Easter lamb.

Yesterday, on the event of my Easter dinner celebration, once the lamb went into the oven after two days of marinating, I went about the décor of the dining room. I hand-picked each and every piece of silverware, plate and glass, dug through the linens to find the right napkins – I went for the fancies – and began meticulously arranging the bundles of daffodils and hyancinths into little vintage creamers and jelly jars while listening to my go-to soothing sounds: Explosions in the Sky. All the while the house was filling up with the entrancing smell of lamb, lemon and garlic fusing together in the oven. I dare say it was beginning to smell like Easter. Or, at least, really, really good. The air smelled like family and friends and the promise of festivity and future fond memories.

Everything was coming together perfectly. The food was on schedule, the room looked great, I had the perfect wines; some lovely rosés from a tasting the day before, and just moments before the guests arrived, as I was lighting the candles, Fred and I got our Easter baskets in the mail! I guess the Easter Bunny is trying to help out the US Post Office in their time of need... Nevertheless, that took care of dessert; Cadbury Creme Eggs!

As we all sat down to the table, we raised our glasses of rosé and toasted to a happy Easter. And as I looked around the room, I took stock. The smiling faces of my friends, the table looked beauteous, the food was delicious, the wine went perfectly with the saffrony lamb, the flowers smelled wonderful, and best of all we were all so happy to be with each other. Good friends, together, on our Easter, eating, drinking, smiling, talking, sharing Easter memories and laughter.

SAFFRON ROAST LAMB WITH STICKY GARLIC POTATOES

(recipe adapted from Nigella Lawson's book, Feast)

Serves 6

1 leg of lamb (4.5 lbs)

1/3 cup olive oil

3 cloves garlic, bruised

6 scallions

2 bay leaves

juice of 1 lemon

small bunch mint, 1 1/2 oz including stalks, torn roughly makes 1 cup

1/2 teaspoon saffron threads, steeped in 1 cup very hot water

1/3 cup rosé wine

 Put the lamb in a large freezer bag, pour over the olive oil and then throw in the garlic, trimmed scallions and bay leaves, squeeze in the lemon juice and throw in the squeezed-out lemon halves too, then add the torn-up bunch of mint. Seal the bag and marinate in the fridge overnight.

Bring the lamb to room temperature before you even think of putting it in the oven, and preheat that to 425 degrees F when you take the lamb out of the fridge.

Pour the entire contents of the freezer bag into a roasting pan and roast for about 20 minutes a pound, or until the lamb is cooked a perfect, à point pink; you will just have to pierce it with the knife to see. Just before the lamb is due to come out of the oven, put the saffron strands in a measuring cup and pour over the hot water so that it can get on with steeping.

Remove the lamb to a wooden carving board to rest. Pick out the lemon rinds, and then place the roasting pan on the stove over medium heat, and stir until it starts bubbling. Stir in the saffron in its water and add 1/3 cup rosé – tasting for seasoning as you go – as needed to let this bubble into a small amount of ungloopy gravy. 

Carve the lamb on to a large warmed plate and strain the saffrony juices, stirring in any liquid first from the carving board, over the pink meat.

Read the sticky garlic potato recipe now so that you can coordinate your movements. And, to go with, I'd want no more than a bowl of green peas, turned in some butter.

STICKY GARLIC POTATOES

Serves 6

1 1/2 lbs small fingerling potatoes

8 cloves garlic (more if you like)

1/2 cup olive or other vegetable oil 

Coarse salt & freshly cracked pepper to taste.

Bring a saucepan of water to the boil and add some salt, add the potatoes and cook for 30 minutes. Drain, and put back into the dry pan.

Peel the garlic cloves by squishing with the flat of a knife so that they bruise slightly and the skin slips off. Put them in the dry pan with the potatoes, and then bash potatoes and garlic  so they are cracked and split. You can do this ahead and leave them in the pan – though with the lid off, so that they don’t get watery – until you want to roast them.

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F and slip a roasting pan in to heat up at the same time. Once the oven’s hot, pour in the oil and let it, in turn, heat up for 10 minutes.

Carefully tip the potatoes and garlic into the hot oil and cook for 15 minutes. Turn the potatoes over and then give them another 15 minutes. 

Salt & pepper to taste.

Serve on a platter with the lamb.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Rustic Cremini Mushroom Soup with Chives & Basil Oil
Two years ago: Nutter Butter Cookies
Three years ago: The Grill 'Em All Truck

Lemon Graham Squares

I spend every Tuesday evening meeting with the youth group in our church.  It keeps me really busy but has turned into the highlight of my week.  I know teenagers sometimes get a bad wrap, but our kids are awesome!  So driven, so bright and energetic, and so kind to each other.  No Mean Girls in this crowd.  Their great vibes are so infectious, I always leave feeling younger and fortunate to be around such great young people.

 Regardless of what we might be doing that night, (service project, building skills, working towards goals), food is almost always involved, and I am always happy to provide it.  It gives me a chance to experiment with delicious looking treats without actually having to have them in the house.  I found these lemon graham squares on Debbie's blog at the Friday Friends and instantly fell in love.  How can you not love a tart lemon filling between two layers of cookie crumbs?  I made them once for our church group, and then a new batch the very next day to hoard at home.  Yeah, so much for getting them out of the house!

Lemon Graham Squares
Found at The Friday Friends

Ingredients

1 can (14oz) sweetened condensed milk
1/2 cup lemon juice
1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs (exactly one plastic packed stack of graham crackers)
3/4  cup all-purpose flour
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 tsp baking powder
dash salt
1/2 cup melted butter

Directions

In a bowl, combine the milk and lemon juice, mix well, set aside. In another bowl, combine the cracker crumbs, flour, brown sugar, baking powder and salt. Stir in butter until crumbly.

Press half of the crumb mixture into a greased 9-inch square baking dish.  Pour lemon mixture over crust; sprinkle with remaining crumbs.   Bake at  375F for  20-25 minutes or until lightly browned. 

Cool in pan on a wire rack.

Cut into bars.

Shared with Taste and Tell Thursdays

Super Easy Lemon Curd in the Vitamix

some people are sweet and tart
some people are deep and dark
some people are on the fence...?

BUT this dessert ?..... 'til death do us part.

please excuse my attempt at Valentine's poetry, but someone has to get a bit sappy around here.    Valentine's Day is all about cards, flowers, chocolates and desserts of any kind, but in my books it's yet another FREE-DAY of all treats coming my way.

this one is super easy to whip up.  the lemon curd takes minutes and you can make some delicious truffles ahead of time.  i have quite a few truffle recipes to browse if you go to the search bar in the right column.  OR in a pinch...just go out and buy some at your favorite chocolatier.
IMPORTANT NOTE...you must use a high powered blender such as a Vitamix or maybe a Blendtec.

5 minutes prep

5 minutes blend

wait for it to set...OR DON'T

try not to lick the container with sharp blade until your tongue falls off.

photo sitting in the car...lolololl.

so easy i made it in the garage !...

let me explain...i was all "mise en place" in the kitchen, but "someone" wanted to watch football in the kitchen with his lunch.  my Vitamix and i moved to the garage.

done in 5 minutes !

EASY LEMON CURD in the VITAMIX

recipe from the VITAMIX CREATE book

i found the recipe through Holly at"A Baker's House"on Pinterest...a fabulous blog with delicious goodies galore.

1/2 cup Meyer lemon juice

zest from 3 Meyer lemons
5 large eggs

1 1/2 cup granulated sugar

pinch of salt

1/2 cup unsalted butter, room temp.

1/2 vanilla bean scraped

put juice, zest, eggs, sugar and salt in the blender starting on variable #1...slowly increase to #10.  let it rip for 5 minutes.  lower speed to #3.  remove small lid cap and add butter and vanilla bean scrapings.  blend for 30 more seconds.  remove, strain through fine mesh strainer, let come to room temp. and refrigerate for a few hours.  will keep in the fridge for at least a week.

NOTE...this has a light and airy texture.  not like regular curd that seems to be a bit more heavy like pudding.  i do not think it will hold it's shape if using in a large lemon tart and cutting perfect slices.  maybe it's best for individual tartletts....or maybe i will play with the ingredient amounts...a little less juice perhaps ?

oh just go ahead and spread it on anything...ENJOY

IT'S REALLY FINGER LICKIN' GOOD !!!

Lemon Blossoms

 I've never considered myself much of a girly girl.  My hair and makeup rarely takes longer than twenty minutes, I say 'dude' way more than I should, and I consider having to wear skirts and high heels some kind of medieval torture.

But, that doesn't mean that I don't like to be pampered, and if I have the funds, you best believe that I'd be getting myself massaged, facialed, and manicured on a regular basis.  So, when I found out that the youth in our church wanted to throw a spa party, I was on. board.

To my absolute delight, I was assigned to bring spa treats.  Where do I even begin?  I wanted something sweet, and dainty, and bite sized.  The perfect treat for primping.  Lemon blossoms?  No brainer.

 How can you not love a bite sized morsel of sunshine?  These take no time at all to make, are cute as heck, and taste so sweet and bright that you might actually see cartoon birds tweeting at your window.  Make them and enjoy dude!

Lemon Blossoms
By Paula Deen

Ingredients

1 (18.25 oz. box) yellow cake mix

1 (3.4 oz.) instant lemon flavored pudding mix

4 large eggs

3/4 cup plus 3 tablespoons vegetable oil, divided

4 cups confectioners' sugar

1 tablespoon lemon zest (about 1 lemon)

1/3 cup fresh lemon juice

3 tablespoons water

 

Directions

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray miniature muffin pans with nonstick cooking spray. In a large bowl, combine cake mix, pudding mix, eggs, and 3/4 cup oil. Beat for 2 minutes. Spoon 1 tablespoon of the batter into each muffin tin, and bake for 12 minutes. Turn the cakes onto a cloth towel.

In a medium bowl, sift confectioners' sugar. Add lemon zest, lemon juice, remaining 3 tablespoons oil, and water, stirring until smooth. Dip the cakes into the glaze while they are still warm, covering as much of the cake as possible. Place the cakes on a wire rack with wax paper underneath to catch the drips. Let the glaze set thoroughly before storing in an airtight container.

 

Potato Lemon Soup

Another basic soup - nothing terribly exciting, but hey, it tasted good. The original recipe had thyme - I had sage, so that's what I used - and I ended up puréeing the soup. You can leave the potato chunks whole, but I couldn't get past the fact that it's basically just potatoes in a creamy broth, and therefor, mixed mine until fairly smooth. But that's all up to you.

It's a good vegetable soup, but if you're so inclined, go ahead and serve it with some smoked ham or crispy bacon.

Potato Lemon Soup
serves 3

1 onion, chopped
1 tbsp butter
500 g potatoes, cut into 1 cm dice (if planning on puréeing, never mind the size)
250 ml cream (full-fat)
5-600 ml vegetable stock (or more) (from a cube is fine)
1 tbsp fresh sage, finely chopped
1 lemon, zest and juice
salt

Fry the onion in the butter, until softened. Don't let it color, though. Add the potatoes and cream. Bring to a boil, and simmer on medium heat (with a lid) for about 15 minutes. The potatoes should be fairly soft. Add the stock, bring to a boil again, and cook for a few more minutes.

Add the sage and lemon zest. Season with the lemon juice (don't add it all at once!) and salt. Pepper is totally optional, we skipped it.

Lemon Mint Tzatziki

Tzatziki is a great sauce that goes well with grilled pork or chicken - or anything else, for that matter. We love it. Usually, it's mostly garlic and cucumber, but this time, I added the zest from one lemon, and some chopped mint, for a completely different twist on the original. It was really tasty - we served it with a spread of "greek-ish" food, while trying out my new olive oil from Kallaras.

Lemon Mint Tzatziki
200 ml Greek yogurt
1/2 cucumber
1/2 tbsp olive oil
1 garlic clove, minced
Zest from 1 lemon
2 tbsp chopped fresh mint
Salt

Coarsely grate the cucumber, and squeeze out as much water as you can. Mix the cucumber with yogurt, olive oil, minced garlic, lemon and mint. Season with salt.

Lemon Crinkle Cookies

 While I am fully embracing the onset of fall, I completely understand if you're not.  In fact, to help ease you into it, I thought I'd send one more summer treat before the apple/pumpkin/winter squash frenzy is in full force.

 Am I the only one that things of summer when I think of lemon?  Is lemon even considered a seasonal summer fruit?  It's just so bright, fresh, and yellow like the sun.  These are the kind of cookies I want to pack on a picnic where there are going to be volleyball games and watermelon seed spitting contests.

I found these tender and tangy gems at Pam's fabulous blog.  If you haven't been by her site, you're seriously missing out.  I pin just about everything she posts.

Lemon Crinkle Cookies
For the Love of Cooking

Ingredients

1/2 cup of unsalted butter, softened
1 cup of white sugar
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 egg
3 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 tbsp fresh lemon zest
1 1/2 cups of flour
1/4 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking powder
1/8 tsp baking soda
1/2 cup of powdered sugar

Directions

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Line a baking sheet with a silpat mat.

In a large bowl, beat the butter and sugar together with a mixer until creamy. Add the vanilla, egg, lemon juice, and lemon zest and beat until smooth and well mixed. Combine the flour, salt, baking powder, and baking soda together until well combined. Slowly add the flour mixture to the lemon mixture until mixed. The dough will be very sticky. Place into the refrigerator for 10-15 minutes or until firm enough to roll into balls.

Roll the dough into small balls then toss in the bowl of powdered sugar until evenly coated. Place the balls on the baking sheet about 2 inches apart. Place into the oven and bake for 9-11 minutes.
Remove the cookies from the oven and let them cool on a wire rack for at least 7 minutes to set.

Serve the cookies immediately