The Road Taken

I started writing this post over a month ago. Since then I have started and stopped quite a few times. Then I just stopped. And stared. Nothing. Then I started again, but didn't know where to take it. I wasn't sure why. Normally once I start something, anything, I stay right with it until I finish. But this one is different. Change is afoot.

Like many writers, I often grapple with how much, or how little, to expose about myself here. To you. I like to talk, I like to tell stories, I like to share. It helps me process. It helps me see. I used to be religious about writing in my journals, almost excessively some days. In a sense, this has become my journal. The big difference is there is now an audience. An audience with reactions I cannot gauge while I 'talk'. For the most part I keep things on the lighter side, but I assure you that this voice is mine and mine alone. If you met me, that would be clear within moments. This voice is more disciplined, however, and part of an identity I am able to control.

Here I tell you about me, but within the framework of food and within the realm of my kitchen, or, perhaps, someone else's kitchen. I will tell you about Fred, or Besito, or anecdotes about any number of members of my family and certainly friends that come in and out of the spotlight at any particular time. And from all of that, and the years we've known one another, I can imagine you have gleaned quite a bit about me.

I have been hinting about some big news and I'm finally ready to tell you about it. At the end of September, after twelve years in the City of Angels I will be moving back home. And by home I mean Richmond, Virginia. I will not be alone, however. My love, Fred and our pups, Besito, Eduardo and our newest addition, Byron, will all be moving together. Our little family is going to join my Richmond family and the horizon is enormous.

I am not sure if you knew this, because I know I've never told you, but I have owned a dog walking businessfor the past decade. It has been quite successful and very good to me. This business has been the most solid, consistent, dependable and reliable thing I have known during my life in Los Angeles.

So, at almost forty years old, I am selling my business and am moving clear across the country. To do what? I'm not entirely certain, but the idea is a lot more of this. Writing. Cooking. Eating. Food. Recipes. Pictures. With Fred.

And there you have it.

I feel a little bit naked now. But good naked.

And relieved.

One very, very fun and exciting part of all of this is the actual journey. We will be driving and taking our time. Specifically, this will be a culinary journey from California to Virginia with a huge focus on the South. In the cities where we don't know people, we hope to rely on folks we know via social media to assist us in finding our next meal, or interview, or as Fred wants to do, a place for us to cook with locals; both home and professional chefs, and in both homes and restaurants. Part of the thrill of our cross country trip is the serendipity involved. We know that we will have food adventure and discovery that we are not even aware of at this moment. The best part is that we will be documenting everything as we go along.

I hope all of you get involved. Tell us where to go and what to eat. Better yet, if our paths cross, let us meet! And cook! And eat! Let's all do this together, shall we?

And, OMG, what should our hashtag be?!

In honor of this post I thought long and hard about what dish to share with y'all. Fred suggested I make something I've never made before, in the spirit of the unknown road ahead (very Robert Frost of him). I wanted to do something that represents what is happening with food here in LA then and now, so to speak, and food that signifies where I'm from and where I'm going: The South.

I settled on what I will call a Low Country Benedict: fried green tomatoes with Smithfield ham, poached eggs and a pimiento cheese hollandaise. Oddly, I have never made fried green tomatoes. And this summer my fecund garden is bursting with tomatoes – red, yellow, orange and green. When I think of eggs Benedict I think of the LA from the eighties, think LA Story and people lingering over coffee, mimosas and bloody marys and fancy, bougie French fare wearing sunglasses, white linen and big hats. That said, southern food is so, so, very, very en vogue here in LA (and everywhere) right now. Think Willie Jane and The Hart and the Hunter's entire menu, , A-Frame's fried chicken picnic, Son of a Gun's pimiento cheese with Ritz crackers, Lucques' annual rib-fest, everyone's deviled eggs, and so on. And perhaps most obviously, fried green tomatoes are, and have been for quite some time, very prominent in the south.

And so without further ado...

Fried Green Tomato Benedict with Smithfield Ham & Pimiento Cheese Hollandaise

Makes 4 servings

Ingredients

4 thin slices of Smithfield ham

2 tablespoons chopped chives, for garnish

4 eggs

2 teaspoons white or rice vinegar

4 large slices of fried green tomatoes

Salt & freshly cracked pepper

Pimiento Cheese Hollandaise

8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter

4 egg yolks

1 tablespoon lemon juice

4 teaspoons powdered cheddar cheese (found in your standard mac n' cheese package)

1 4 ounce jar of pimientos, chopped

Dash of cayenne or tabasco

Dash of Worcestershire sauce

Salt to taste

Directions

Start with the fried green tomatoes. Recipe below. Once they're cooked, keep them in the oven on warm until you're ready to assemble the dish.

Next bring a large saucepan two-thirds-filled with water to a boil, then add the vinegar. Bring the water to a boil again, then lower the heat to a bare simmer.

Make the pimiento cheese hollandaise. Vigorously whisk together egg yolks and lemon juice in a stainless steel bowl until the mixture is thickened and doubled in volume. Place the bowl over a saucepan containing barely simmering water (or use a double boiler); the water should not touch the bottom of the bowl. Continue to whisk rapidly. Be careful not to let the eggs get too hot or they will scramble. Slowly drizzle in the melted butter and continue to whisk until the sauce is thickened and doubled in volume. Remove from heat, whisk in powdered cheese a teaspoon at a time, Worcestershire sauce and cayenne. Stir in the pimientos. Cover and place in a warm spot until ready to use for the eggs Benedict. If the sauce gets too thick, whisk in a few drops of warm water before serving. Salt to taste

Poach the eggs. Here is  an easy method for poaching eggs. Essentially, working one egg at a time, crack an egg into a small bowl and slip into the barely simmering water. Once it begins to solidify, slip in another egg, until you have all four cooking. Turn off the heat, cover the pan, and let sit for 4 minutes. (Remember which egg went in first, you'll want to take it out first.) When it comes time to remove the eggs, gently lift out with a slotted spoon. Note that the timing is a little variable on the eggs, depending on the size of your pan, how much water, how many eggs, and how runny you like them. You might have to experiment a little with your set-up to figure out what you need to do to get the eggs exactly the way you like them.

Gently remove the eggs from the poaching water and set in a bowl. 

To assemble the eggs Benedict, put two fried green tomatoes on each plate and top each with a thin slice of Smithfield ham. You can trim the ham to fit the tomato if you’d like. Put a poached egg on top of the ham, pour hollandaise over. Top with sprinkles of chives and fresh cracked black pepper. Serve at once.

Fried Green Tomatoes

Ingredients

1  large egg, lightly beaten  

1/2 cup  buttermilk

1/2 cup  all-purpose flour, divided

1/2 cup  cornmeal

1 teaspoon  salt

1/2 teaspoon  pepper

1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

3  medium-size green tomatoes, cut into 1/3-inch slices

Vegetable oil

Bacon drippings

Salt to taste

Directions

Combine egg and buttermilk; set aside.

Combine 1/4 cup all-purpose flour, cornmeal, 1 teaspoon salt, red pepper flakes, and pepper in a shallow bowl or pan.

Dredge tomato slices in remaining 1/4 cup flour; dip in egg mixture, and dredge in cornmeal mixture.

Pour oil/bacon dripping to a depth of 1/4 to 1/2 inch in a large cast-iron skillet; heat to 375°. Drop tomatoes, in batches, into hot oil, and cook 2 minutes on each side or until golden. Drain on paper towels or a rack. Sprinkle hot tomatoes with salt.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: Anuradha Rice

Two years ago: Yerp: Part 7 - The End.

Three years ago: Great Balls on Tires

Four years ago: For the love of TOMATOES!

A Project, of the Sweetest Kind.

My word! Everything is so crazy right now. Work has hit some random fever pitch, my chores have stacked up and are looming, I haven't had any time to make my weekly batches of pimiento cheese or deviled ham salad for Lindy & Grundy, Fred and I are going on a vacation tomorrow, which means my packing agita began days ago, and, oh my GAWD - I had to remove a large tick from a dog (ticks are one of THE scariest things in the whole world to me). 

Mercifully, there is always light and growth. Right now those very elements are springing forth in the literal sense: the sun is bright and strong, and all things produce are exploding in my garden and at the market. The bounty of all of the new, and unusual produce, has helped to quell the lack of carbs allowed in my world. Because when things feel this funky, I really just want a big bowl of pasta served with a massive chunk of bread on the side. In their stead I have eaten many 'creative' salads, and an inordinate amount of cheese and almonds. The cheese and almonds are the closest snacky thing I have found to satisfy my salty, crunchy cravings (read potato chip desperation).

When in need of soothing I go grocery shopping; it is my therapy – it grounds me. Whenever I stumble across a brand new food anything, I buy it. And I rarely have a clue what I will do with my new Precious, even by the time I'm back in my kitchen. So last week, while aimlessly navigating each aisle of Whole Foods, mostly just to pick up some healthy lunch snack while out running around, I was suddenly face to spear with bright purple asparagus. And this, my friends, I had never seen before.

Thus, a project was born. Of the sweetest kind.

I raced home, put on my cozies, poured a glass of Moscato (needless to say, wine has been ushered back into diet headquarters) and sat down to poke through my brand new copy of Vegetable Literacy for an idea. I wanted something simple. I wanted something clean. I wanted something light and bright and fresh. And I wanted to incorporate the sixty-two degree egg that I have been besotted with of late. I read that purple asparagus (asparaguses? asparagi?) have less fiber and more sugar than other varieties. So I knew I wanted to bring an acid onto the palate with this dish. And things just all came together. As things tend to do. Or not.

This is a fun and versatile dish. You could serve this with brunch, lunch or dinner. It – at least the asparagus – could be served cool, with warm egg, to play on temperatures, or have the whole thing warm, depending on your whimsy. This arrangement creates a wonderful journey for the eyes, with the bright colors and textures. The aggressive spears of asparagus topped with the soft, sensual, gooey ephemeral egg. The little drizzle of the vinaigrette add that tiny pop of pink. That and the smattering of the bright green bits of basil keep your eyes busy for longer than you'd expect.

And theydo say, 'you first eat with your eyes', no?

Here, in the apex of Spring, I highly encourage everyone to plant something right now. Whether you are able to cultivate a garden in the ground, in containers, or you have a few little plants of basil, thyme or oregano on your kitchen windowsill – or how about Sea Monkeys? Remember them? Watch it (or them) grow and use it to enhance your day, your spirit and your food.

Roasted Purple Asparagus, Red Wine Vinaigrette, 62 Degree Egg

Serves 2

1 pound asparagus

3 tablespoons plus 1 teaspoon olive oil, divided

Sea salt

Freshly ground black pepper

1 teaspoon coarse prepared mustard

1 tablespoon red wine vinegar

2 eggs 62 degree or soft poached

A few basil leaves, chiffonade

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. If the asparagus spears are thick, peel the stalks and cut off the tough stem ends. If thin, snap off the bottom where it breaks easily and trim the ends.

Toss the spears with 1 teaspoon olive oil to moisten, season well with salt and pepper, and lay them in a single layer in a baking dish or sheet pan. Roast the spears, turning them once every 10 minutes, until tender and colored in places, 20 to 30 minutes.

Make the vinaigrette. Combine mustard, vinegar and 1/4 teaspoon salt, then whisk in the oil. 

Lay the asparagus on two plates. Top with eggs. Spoon the vinaigrette over all and finish with freshly ground black pepper. Delicately scatter basil leaves across the plates.

Printable recipe.

One year ago: The Pikey

Two years ago: Meyer Lemon Relish

Three years ago: Let's Talk About Text, Baby

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

Consider the Waffle.

While ambling through a thrift store recently, I stumbled across a waffle iron touting itself as The Belgian Waffler. It gave me pause. Though I couldn't remember the last time I ordered a waffle from a menu, I knew for certain that, other than putting a frozen one into a toaster in or around the second grade, I had definitely had never made one. The colors and the font on the circa 1982 Belgian Waffler box reminded me, fondly, of Busch Gardens, an old-world European theme park back in Williamsburg, Virginia. The Old Country, as it was tagged, featured a number of 'hamlets' like Oktoberfest (Bavarian Germany), Killarney (Ireland), Heatherdowns (Scotland), Aquitaine (France) and Banbury Cross (England) to name a few, all with appropriately themed food, games and rides. For you Californians, if Solvang had skee ball and roller coasters, it would be a dead ringer for a hamlet in Busch Gardens.

And so, for a mere four dollars and ninety-nine cents, how could I not purchase this novelty kitchen tool that elicited so much nostalgia?

As I unpacked the day's treasures; two vintage pea green and ecru plates and a matching creamer made of genuine English china (must have been part of someone's wedding gift at some point), one ornate soup spoon, one floral Asian rice bowl and an old, wonky muted blue and white dish that I deemed a perfect pasta bowl, I stopped and stared at The Belgian Waffler. Once I got past another Busch Gardens flashback of taking the gondola lift from Banbury Cross to get to the Le Scoot Log Flume and then the steam train to get to Heatherdowns to ride the Loch Ness Monster, I contemplated the actual waffle iron and wondered:

What's the story with waffles? Who eats them? Who makes them at home? I think I miss Eggos. Should I go get some? I bet two of those would make great bread for a sandwich.

After some sleuthing I came across an article in Time magazine from November of 1999, covering the flooded Tennessee Kellogg plant that forced the company to ration its supplies for over six months. Apparently the shortage was called a “national calamity, further proof of global warming's reach, a sign of the apocalypse, evidence of a corporate conspiracy and a good opportunity to cash in.” (Witness the Katy, Texas, resident who posted a "rationed" box of Blueberry Eggos on eBay — "toaster not included.")

I guess we like our waffles.

I was not more than a little bit surprised to find the waffle's origin traced back to none other than ancient Greece. The original waffles were basically communion wafers called oublies made with grain flour and water, pressed between little irons embossed with Biblical scenes or allegorical designs.

From there, the waffle's journey is an interesting one. One of my personal favorite highlights of its trajectory involves a 16th century painting that not only shows waffles being cooked, but also features a man wearing three waffles strapped to his head, playing dice for waffles with a black-masked carnival-goer.

Detail from Pieter Bruegel's Het gevecht tussen Carnaval en Vasten - among the first known images of waffles.

In the 17^thcentury sugar was so prohibitively expensive that waffles were pretty much reserved for only the fancies. And, finally, around the 18^thcentury the word waffle first appeared in the English language and the recipe could be found in American, English, Dutch, Belgian, German and French versions. Rumor has it Thomas Jefferson even had waffle parties. Wild Man Jefferson, they must have called him.

By the early 20^thcentury ye olde waffle craftsmen were diminishing and the waffle became something people primarily made at home. This decline was accelerated by the invention of the first electric waffle maker (GE), waffle mixes by the likes of Aunt Jemima and Bisquick and, of course, that wacky trio of brothers, the Dosas, who provided us with our favorite frozen specialty, the Eggo waffle. Bringing us back to me standing in the thrift store, thinking about putting a waffle in the toaster oven in or around the second grade.

Upon my research, I was pretty excited to learn that some of the very earliest French waffle recipes, dating back to the late 14th century, were savory ones; “Beat some eggs in a bowl, season with salt and add wine. Toss in some flour, and mix. Then fill, little by little, two irons at a time with as much of the paste as a slice of cheese is large. Then close the iron and cook both sides. If the dough does not detach easily from the iron, coat it first with a piece of cloth that has been soaked in oil or grease.” Some other variations explain how cheese is to be placed in between two layers of batter, or grated and mixed in to the batter. Wine? Cheese? Sounds right up my alley.

For my fist experience with The Belgian Waffler, I was going to use one of the recipes on the back of the box. But then I thought to check in on my all-time favorite breakfast maker, Marion Cunningham, for her advice. She has never, ever done me wrong. Not when I need to make biscuits, or granola, or muffins, or breakfast breads, or pancakes, or even pancakes with fruit. Never.

Plus, my logic reminded me that in the eye of the frozen waffle storm sweeping this country, in or around when I was in the second grade, was also exactly when Marion Cunningham actually took the time to make her family waffles for breakfast. Even more precious, in her description above the recipe she goes so far as to explain that this is “ideal for spur-of-the-moment breakfast when you haven't time for yeast-risen waffles”. I mean, come on. Often mornings for me in or around the second grade involved my dad gulping exactly a cup and a half of coffee (half decaf, half caf) while watching The Today Show, and then standing by the front door, impatiently, with a banana in hand as I was grabbing my waffle out of the toaster, smearing butter on it, wrapping it up in a paper towel so I could catch a ride to school. But only as far as his work, mind you. I walked the rest of the way eating my breakfast. Yeast-risen waffles, yeah right, Marion.

So, yes, I went with Marion's classic waffle recipe but I added a little health. A little now. I added some chia seeds and some flax seeds.

And as Fred prepared macerated blackberries with fresh mint to go on top, I began to heat up The Belgian Waffler for its maiden (at least in this decade, I would imagine) waffle voyage.

Though it's clearly been a very, very long time since I've had a meal of waffles, and I rarely opt for the sweet breakfast over the savory, I enjoyed this one immensely. The waffles were steamy warm, crisped light brown on the exterior, and substantial but moist inside. And they were only as sweet as what you put on top of them. I went for heavy on the butter and light on the maple syrup. We had the good stuff a neighbor brought back from Vermont. I enjoyed the texture and also the look that the seeds added. Fred piled his high with the sweetened berries and mint, in addition to the syrup. We cleaned our plates and then bickered over the last square.

There will be more waffles. I will make the recipes on the back of the box. But mostly, I keep thinking about using two waffle squares as sandwich bread...

Chia & Flax Seed Waffles with Blackberries & Fresh Mint

Waffles

Makes about 8 waffles

2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

4 teaspoons baking powder

2 tablespoons sugar

2 eggs, room temperature

1 1/2 cups whole milk, warmed slightly

1/3 cup vegetable shortening, melted

1/3 cup (2/3 stick) unsalted butter, melted

1 tablespoon chia seeds

1 tablespoon flax seeds

Put the flour, salt, baking powder, and sugar in a mixing bowl and stir the mixture with a fork until blended.

In another bowl, beat the eggs well and stir in the milk. Combine with the flour mixture until mixed. Add the melted shortening and butter and beat until blended.

Blend in chia and flax seeds.

Pour about 3/4 cup batter into a very hot waffle iron. Bake the waffles until they are golden and crisp. Serve hot & top with macerated berries, butter & maple syrup. Or whatever you want.

Macerated Blackberries

2 cups fresh blackberries

1 tablespoon plus 2 teaspoons sugar

1 teaspoon shredded fresh mint

Combine blackberries, sugar, and mint. Refrigerate for 1 hour.

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: Potato Fennel Hash

Farmer's Cheese Pancakes...

delicate, light, delicious breakfast treat.

like little velvet bellini with a hint of lemon.

i came across this particular recipe while googling around for cottage cheese pancakes.  i found a ton of recipes for "Syrniki" aka...Russian pancakes made with Farmer's Cheese.  i've never had the pleasure of a true Russian pancake, but i thought i'd give these a try.  i'm sure every Russian Grandmother makes them them better than the next, but this is where i'll start.  i hope i get some good comments from readers with their own "Syrniki" recipes. 

these are just what i was looking for.  something with a little less flour and a little more protein.  they're pretty healthy...lighter than your American pancake and they can be served for breakfast, brunch or made into some cute creative layered dessert.  mine didn't make it to the dessert idea...they were all gone before i could get to it.  i'll make these again this weekend for the holidays when the troops arrive.  farmer's cheese isn't at my local market and they are a little delicate in the pan, but worth the extra shopping trip and a little patience with the batter.

FARMER'S CHEESE PANCAKES...

found at www.npr.org.  original from chef Vitaly Paley

330g farmer's cheese ...i used Friendship Farmer's Cheese

3 large eggs, slightly beaten

2 Tbsp sugar or substitute

3-4 Tbsp white whole wheat flour

1/8 tsp baking soda

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp vanilla

a squeeze of lemon

a little zest for more lemon flavor

mix the wet ingredients...farmer's cheese, eggs, sugar and vanilla until combined with no lumps.  chef Vitaly's grandmother suggests mixing the lemon juice and baking soda in a little bowl (for fluffier cakes), stir well. and add to the wet ingredients.  add the flour and baking powder, start with 3 Tbsp flour....batter should be a little thicker than regular pancake batter.  depending on the moisture of your farmer's cheese you might need to add a little more flour.  add a little lemon zest.  now go ahead and taste the batter, it won't kill you.  more sugar?...more zest?...

heat your skillet with a little butter or oil of choice... but a little butter won't hurt ya AND "butter makes everything better".

warning...the first pancake is always a bit of a "flub".  mine started to look good after about the 3rd one.  i made them pretty small, about 2 1/2 to 3 inches across and i got about 12.  smaller are easier to flip.  cook the first side until you see good looking bubbles form on the top...(pretty much like regular pancakes).  flip and cook other side.  i had a nice light brown color on mine as shown.

these are delicate pancakes.  don't loose patience with the flipping.

or...add a little more flour to thicken the dough.

serve with syrup of choice...maple is nice...ginger would be delicious with fresh berries...

OR they are fabulous with a dollop of vanilla greek yogurt and homemade jam.

absolutely delicious right off the skillet, but they do save well in the fridge for the next day or two.  we found ourselves eating them right out of the fridge with a little homemade Meyer Lemon Lavender Marmalade (posting soon)...

approx. nutrition 

using sugar sub. with 12 per batch

each pancake...57 calories...1.1 carb...3.4 fat...and 5.1 protein

OATMEAL CUSTARD

GREAT START TO A GREAT DAY...

warm creamy custardy 4 grain oats with vanilla greek yogurt and fresh berries.

my idea of dessert for breakfast.

i'm up at the crack of dawn...

mornings are getting cold and i want comfort food.

well...that's a big fat lie.

we're having an unexplained heat wave here in California, but i still want something delicious, healthy and satisfying for breakfast.  i don't want a protein bar.  i don't want a bowl of granola.  i don't have time for eggs Benedict.  i surely can't get through the day on my Mexican pastries alone.  i need something with a little substance that will keep me going and i need something i can put together and get out the door.

this is a great recipe for those no-brainer, i'm too tired weekday mornings when you need some good healthy fuel to get going. make it for a Sunday breakfast and have the leftovers warmed up throughout the week.  dress it up with greek yogurt, syrups, berries, brown sugar and cinnamon, candied pecans...i'm sure everyone has there own ideas for oatmeal extras.

it's not a throw together recipe because you need cooked oatmeal, but it IS an easy recipe if you have that ready.  the cottage cheese might seem a bit odd, but trust me...it really adds to the creaminess and you don't even know it there.  spice it up as you wish.  i always like to add a touch of cardamom, fresh ground nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla with a touch of almond extract.

i've tried a chocolate version, but haven't perfected it yet.  it was good, but not great, so i'll wait on posting about that.  meanwhile i'll continue on with this one and some different spice combinations.  since i'm so hot about rosemary lately, maybe i'l try that in there some how...hmmmmm.  i think rosemary and maple syrup might work well together...hmmm 

OATMEAL CUSTARD

adapted from Inn Cuisine

2 cups COOKED oatmeal...i use 4 grain hot cereal by Arrowhead Mills
1 1/2 cups low fat cottage cheese
2 large eggs-real eggs work better than substitute
1 cup low fat or skim milk
6 tbsp sugar or sugar substitute...i use 1/2 cup Z Sweet
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/8 tsp cardamom
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 tsp almond extract
1 scoop vanilla whey protein powder...optional

preheat oven to 325 F degrees
coat 2 Qt baking dish with non stick spray
in a large mixing bowl, blend oatmeal, cottage cheese, eggs, milk, sugar, cinnamon, cardamom, and extracts in an electric mixer until smooth.
pour batter into prepared dish and bake for approx.1 hour...mine takes about 1 hr 5-10 minutes in a square glass pyrex in a regular oven.

serve warm, room temp or even cold for on the go...

NOTE...ovens are different and so are baking dishes, so i suggest you check it after 45 minutes and keep an eye on the first one.

nutritional info (approx.)
9 servings made with protein powder and Zsweet

cal...95
protein...6
carbs...16
fiber...5
fat...1

Marmalade Pantry at the Stables ... No other place in Singapore to dine with this much greenery

For folks who wine, dine and party in Mimolette before, you'll find Marmalade Pantry at The Stables familiar. Marmalade Pantry has set up shop in place of Mimolette. I always liked the setting of the place. It's an enclave that's hidden and definitely away from the bustle. At the Stables we get to share the greenery with the horses. The Riding School, the Saddle Club and Rider's Cafe shares the same enclave and if you're lucky enough, you'll get to see the horses exercising or taking trainees around the area.

Look at the expanse of green. Nobody would have thought a haven like this would exist in a land scarce island like Singapore. The tranquility of the surrounding made breakfast or lunch a very relaxing affair.

At Marmalade Pantry at The Stables, the tables outside seemed to be more popular during the day as you'll be able to take in calming views of the green pasture.

As we stepped into the bistro, a happy sight of colourful Marmalade Pantry Signature Cup cakes welcome us. We knew that at least one of these will make it's way to our table for celebrating little Julien's six months of existence. Before desserts, our stomach needed some serious filling for lunch. 

Indoor  tables are more appropriate for family with kids. As the younger kids would be able to last the meal within comforts of the air conditioning.

Mushroom Soup. Nice

W's Seared Scallop Linguine with tiger prawn bisque was delicious. The bisque dictated this dish and we all find it a tard too salty but overall it was still commendable.

J ordered the Classic Snapper Pie with fennel and mash thinking that it's not heavy. How can smooth mash as filling not be heavy? This bugger is definitely heavy on butter. The snapper was probably seared before mixing in the mashed potatoes and then sealed up with pastry films. Had a taste of the pie and it was yummy alright.

I chose the Truffled Field Mushroom Risotto. The risotto was done to perfect texture and the truffle flavoured broth was great. The extra touch of salt was probably the only misgiving for this dish else it would have been perfect.

HY ordered the Steak Sandwich with wasabi mayonnaise, caramelized onions. The recommendation was medium for the steak. Wasabi mayonnaise wasn't something common with steak but it did blend well. It was good.

We knew we had to get one of Marmalade Pantry's Signature Cupcakes for Julien's 6 months birthday. It has to be the Smores Cupcake picked by mummy HY as she loves marshmellows. There has been a mini explosion of cup cake shops near where I stay but I must admit that Marmalade Pantry's cup cakes remain one of the best.

55 Fairways Drive
Singapore 286846

Marmalade Pantry At the Stables Website