Valentine’s day slipped by with hardly a whisper this year, no doubt drowned out by the sound of firecrackers going off for Chinese New Year. The Saturday night before we had a huge dinner at a Sichuan restaurant in Queens that involved chilies, chilies, and more chilies. There was rabbit, and rice cakes, and amazingly good steamed buns served with sweetened condensed milk. Sunday was a quiet day: a little breakfast, some olympics, and lots of time spent indoors, relishing in a lazy long weekend.
By the middle of last week I was feeling that maybe I’d neglected Valentine’s a little. I love holidays, even silly ones that many would chose to ignore; any excuse to give gifts, bake sweets and make a special dinner is good enough for me. Because everyone else was doing it, I decided to make these dark cocoa brownies, and I’m glad I did. I cut them into little hearts and sent a package off to my parents, and one of my uncles. The rest we gladly gobbled up ourselves. They’re fudgy and rich and nearly black (I would love to make a Spinal Tap reference but sadly there are some brownies that are …]
This mug comes from the Frankfurt Christmas market
I meant to post this for Gourmet Unbound’s February round up but somehow between taxes, and school, and teaching, February 1st came and went without my even realizing it.
While in Berlin I became addicted to something known as glühwein, which means “glow wine,” an appropriate name considering the radiant effect it can have on one. You can buy it on the street for about €2 and for an extra euro they’ll add a shot of amaretto or rum. It’s a wonderful drink and economical too, it warms you up, brightens your spirits and makes the grey skies and snow seem a little less dismal.
A few weeks ago I had my old roommates over for dinner. It was a cold night and as they had braved the elements to trek out to my Brooklyn apartment I felt it was only right to have something warm and fortifying (and fortified) waiting for them. This wonderful mulled port was the answer. Simple, easy, it makes the house smell great and makes you feel even better.
Bishop
adapted from Gourmet, February 2006
All you need is a bottle of ruby port, an orange, and about 8 whole …]
Today we had a snow day in New York. Public schools were closed, which means that I didn’t have to get up at 6:45 this morning. Even though the snow is still falling outside I think everything will return to normal tomorrow and by 8:30 am I’ll be back in the classroom with 25 five-year-olds to teach.
This pie comes from Betty Crocker’s Picture Cookbook. A lot of people look down on Betty Crocker, but I love this cookbook. The pies are great, and so are the cookies, and there are some great cakes and quick breads too. What’s more the pictures are totally groovy and there’s all sorts of antiquated advice about pleasing husbands and table service with or without servants (sadly, ours is a no-servant house 100% of the time). Just stay out of the salad section, there’s a little too much aspic in there for my taste.
This particular pie, which they call White Christmas Pie (NYC does look kind of like this pie today, all white and fluffy), is a serious keeper. It reminds me of a pie my grandmother makes, where you fold whipped cream into the custard, rather than laying it on top. This …]
Last year, after I whined about the price of nuts in New York, my mom said she’d see if she could get me some nuts wholesale through one of her suppliers (if you didn’t know, she has a shop in Los Angeles). A month or so later, a guy comes by and delivers a 25-pound box of nuts, half almonds, half pistachios. 25 pounds! I got a bunch of bags and portioned out the nuts and stacked them in the freezer. We made it through the almonds fairly quickly, a short roast in the oven and they made a perfect snack. The pistachios however, lingered. Maybe it’s the shelling, and the fact that we’re lazy, or the mess that we make eating them. I’m not sure why, but a year later we still have the better part of 12-1/2 pounds of lovely bright green pistachios in our freezer. That is about to change. . . .
When we left for our European vacation this winter we asked our komsije (neighbors) if they could check our mail and keep an eye on the apartment. When I came back, not only were there piles of mail of the coffee …]
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