the honey eater

Peach Pie

naomi — Wed, 28 Jul 2010 22:06:09 +0000

At the moment, I’m far away from home, in Stockholm to be exact. The days are long and constantly shift between clouds and blinding sunlight; you’re never quite sure if it’s going to rain or if you’re going to get a sunburn from minute to minute. I’ve been gone for nearly a week and still have another three weeks of traveling ahead of me. I can’t remember when I took a trip that was so long and so relaxing. Vacations like this make being an adult a whole lot of fun.

Because we’re gone so long (I’ll be away for a month in total) we decided to sublet our apartment. This meant that before we left we had to make some headway into the stocks of food cluttering up the refrigerator. Frozen muffins were defrosted, soups were eaten, and a big pot of vegetables was mixed up. I also had a single pie crust that I had to use, leftover from making these. The Saturday before we left I saw piles of beautiful peaches at the market and couldn’t resist buying a bag (or two) to help me use up that extra crust.

I may have mentioned it before, but I love having some pie crust at the ready, it means you can whip up a pie or tart in no time at all and everyone thinks you’re some kind of magic (and who’s to say that you aren’t?). Sunday morning, while Amir was still asleep, I rolled out my crust, peeled and sliced my peaches, tossed them with some sugar and flour and then threw it all in the oven. As I crawled back into bed, less than an hour later, Amir asked me what I had been up to and I said, oh so casually “there’s a peach pie in the oven.” The expression on his face said it all: some kind of magic. Eating peach pie for breakfast is pretty magical, even if you make it yourself (maybe especially when you make it yourself). We ate nearly half the pie that morning.

Peach pie

I was fairly conservative buying fruit because we were leaving and only bought 10 peaches. The pie was good, if a little thin. I’m upping the number of peaches because I believe a pie overflowing with fruit is always best.

I prefer to pre-bake my pie crust just a little so that the bottom gets nice and crispy. If you’re feeling lazy (as I often am) you don’t have to bother.

1 single pie crust

12-16 peaches
3/4 cup brown sugar, very lightly packed
4 tbsp flour
1/4 tsp or so ground nutmeg
dash of vanilla (optional)
milk or water for brushing (optional)
coarse sugar (optional)

Roll out pie crust and place in a buttered 9″ pie dish. Place pie dish in freezer. Gather up the scraps of dough and place them in the freezer as well.

Preheat oven to 425-degrees F.

Peel peaches, if desired, by cutting an “x” in the bottom and placing them in boiling water for about 30 seconds and then transferring the peaches to an ice bath. You can also leave them fuzzy. Slice the peaches about 1/2-1/4″ thick and place in a bowl. Stir in the sugar, flour, nutmeg and vanilla (if using). Set aside.

Your pie crust should be nice and chilled now, line it with aluminum foil, then place your pie weights in the foil and put the crust in the oven. Pre-bake for about 10 minutes, then take out the weights and let bake for another 5. Your crust should be white and might start to brown just a little. Don’t worry if it shrinks a little, that’s normal. If there are cracks, patch them up with some of your scraps, it helps keep the juices from flowing outside the crust and sticking to the bottom of the pan.

In the meantime, roll out the scraps of pie crust and cut out circles (or whatever shapes you prefer).

When the pie crust is ready, take it out of the oven, and using a slotted spoon (or your [very clean] hands) transfer the peach filling to the pie crust. Decorate with your scraps, brush with milk or water and then sprinkle with coarse sugar (totally optional). Cover the edges of your pie crust with a pie shield or aluminum foil. Place in the oven and bake for 35-40 minutes, or until the peaches are tender and the filling in bubbling. Serve warm with whipped cream or mascarpone cheese.

*This tea towel of Swedish endearments was given to me by my aunt and uncle shortly after they moved to Sweden. It is my favorite dish towel and only gets used for the most important of tasks, like wrapping still-warm pies.

Banana Pudding

naomi — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 09:14:18 +0000

Once upon a time, I worked in an office and made money. It’s true, it happened. One day, a swarm of consultants descended upon us and made us take the Meyers-Briggs Type Indicator test. When we got the results, (I’m an INTP) I was described as a “mad-scientist”, often distracted with many projects going at the same time. Me? Distracted? Never!

I often feel a bit mad, but rarely like a scientist, except when I’m making caramel. When I make caramel I feel like an alchemist turning base elements into pure gold. That’s certainly what you get when you make the banana caramel that flavors this pudding, pure molten sweet delicious gold.

You don’t have to make the banana pudding, if you go just as far as making the caramel you will be more than happy. It’s delicious mixed into plain yogurt, or blended with milk and frozen into a banana sherbet. I would imagine that it’s also very good sandwiched between a two shortbread or some chocolate cookies. However, if you do make the pudding, oh if you do! it is manna from heaven. I like mine layered with homemade shortbread but do with it what you will. I challenge you not to eat it all in one go.

Banana pudding
Stolen, blatantly, from Francis Lam

If you have never made caramel before, go to Francis Lam’s original recipe for a more thorough description of the process.

For the caramel:

2 very ripe bananas, pureed until they’re the consistency of pancake batter
1 cup sugar
1/2 cup water

Stir together the sugar and water and bring to a boil. Turn down to a simmer and wait for it to caramelize. Watch it closely and when it starts to turn nice and golden, take it off the heat. It will continue to cook a little. Stir in the pureed bananas, it will probably bubble up like crazy, it’s okay, keep stirring and soon you will have the magical elixir of life, banana caramel. Let it cool and then put it in the fridge, you will have more than you need for the pudding, but you will have no trouble eating it all.

For the pudding:

1-1/2 cups whole milk
1/2 cup heavy cream, plus more for whipping
3 tbsp cornstarch
2 eggs
6 tbsp sugar
1/4 tsp salt
2 tbsp unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1/4 tsp vanilla extract
1/2 cup banana caramel
1-2 bananas
shortbread cookies (or whatever cookies you have on hand)

Mix a few tablespoons of the milk with the cornstarch in a large saucepan, make sure all the cornstarch dissolves, set aside.

Heat up the rest of the milk and the cream in a medium saucepan until small bubbles start to form around the edge but the milk is not boiling. While your milk heats up whisk the eggs, sugar and salt into the milk-cornstarch mixture.

Slowly whisk the hot milk into the egg mixture.

Set the pan over medium-low heat and stir constantly, adding the butter a piece at a time. The mixture will begin to thicken and eventually will feel like pudding (if it lumps a little just whisk the lumps out). Once it reaching pudding consistency turn the heat to low and let it cook for another minute or so.

Pour the pudding through a mesh strainer into a bowl. Stir in the banana caramel and the vanilla. Lay a piece of plastic wrap directly onto the pudding’s surface, let cool completely before putting it in the fridge.

When your pudding is cool, try not to eat it all straight from the bowl. You can make one big pudding or (as I like to do) make several individual puddings in little glass dishes. You’ll want to crush some of your cookies and press them into the bottom of your dish. Then you’ll spoon in some of the pudding. Add a layer of cookies and a layer of sliced banana, then more pudding. More cookies, more banana, more pudding. Deck with whipped cream and crushed cookies. Let sit in the fridge for about four hours, to let the cookies soften and the flavors meld. Enjoy!

Off off and away

naomi — Thu, 22 Jul 2010 19:00:28 +0000

My grandmother preparing to race a plane across the country saying goodbye to my aunt, dad and uncle.

Yesterday I boarded a plane, and about 5 1/2 hours later I landed in Dublin. I’ll be gone for the next month or so but will try to keep up posting here in the meantime. I’ve got lost of tasty things and pretty projects to tell you about. I am once again sans digital camera so there will be no photos until Amir and I (and our Nikon D50) are reunited in Zadar. I’ll be shooting with film on our trusty analog Nikon and hopefully on Amir’s little Minox if I can ever get the roll of film in there to rewind.

I’m off to go explore more of Dublin, where I’ll be until Sunday. Then I’m off to Stockholm to visit with some family, then London to see an old friend and once-upon-a-time-roommate. Finally I’ll fly down to Zadar where Amir will pick me up and take me to his beautiful hometown of Bihać. We’ll travel to Sarajevo and maybe to this little town of Lukomir, which is so remote that the war never reached it. We will definitely be viewing some waterfalls and spending ample time on the beach. If we have time we might even visit Tito’s cave.

Suffice it to say I am in high spirits and very excited about the many adventures coming my way!

Blueberry Apricot Mini Pies

naomi — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 03:01:40 +0000

I’m in L.A. for a few days, visiting with my family and relishing the heavenly west coast weather. Cool and grey, it would probably be infuriating if I lived here and were wishing for summer and the beach, but it’s pure bliss coming from the inferno that New York has been this past week. As has been noted by more than one blogger, the east coast (and the midwest) has been suffering from quite a heat wave. It hit 103 on Monday and I steadfastly refused to turn on the oven despite my desire to make summer pies. On Tuesday, I caved.

I just couldn’t help it: I had apricots sitting in a basket on my windowsill, fresh blueberries left over from making soda, and a pie crust languishing in the fridge, before I knew it the oven was on. My handy thermometer told me it was over 95 degrees in our kitchen and I banished Amir, shaking his head at my foolhardiness, to the air conditioned living room/bedroom to save one of us from baking along with our desserts.

Let me tell you, dear readers, it was worth it. For dessert that night we each enjoyed our own little pie with a dollop of whipped cream, the fruit sweet and tart and surrounded by a flaky, buttery crust, a perfect ending to a smoldering day. Even Amir conceded that my baking had been a good idea after all, despite the fact that he thought I was suicidal at the time.

The next morning, while I put off packing, we ate the remaining blueberry apricot pies with a dollop of mascarpone on top; I would brave the most extraordinary weather for such an exemplary breakfast.

Blueberry Apricot Mini Pies

Blueberries and apricots are one of my favorite combinations and the moment apricots were in the market I whipped up the beta version of these pies. That was a few weeks ago but I didn’t measure anything and we ate them so quickly I didn’t have a chance to take any pictures. I made them again, measuring cups and camera in hand, just for you (because we didn’t enjoy them in the slightest).

For the pie crust*:

2-1/2 cups flour
1 tsp salt
14 tbsp cold butter
4 tbsp leaf lard
4-6 tbsp cold water

Whisk together the flour and salt. Using your hands, mix the butter and lard into the flour until the mixture forms pieces the size of large peas. Still using your hands, mix in the water, 1 tbsp at a time, until the mixture is moistened and just holds together.

Pour the dough onto the counter and push it away from you with the palm of your hand. Form the dough into two disks, wrap in wax paper and place in the refrigerator to cool for at least 30 minutes.

Butter four 1-cup ovenproof dishes. Roll out the dough, place it in your dishes, and place them in the freezer. Preheat oven to 425-degrees.

For the filling:

8 apricots, sliced into eighths
1/2 pint blueberries
1/2 cup sugar (I used demerara sugar, but you can use whatever kind you like)
1 tbsp instant tapioca

Mix together all the ingredients, set aside.

Place pie crusts on a baking sheet and pre-bake for about 8-10 minutes, until the dough begins to color slightly (you can skip this step if you’re feeling lazy, I sometimes do). In the meantime, roll out the top crust and cut into whatever decorative shape you like.

Fill pie shells with filling and cover with top crust.

Bake 30-35 minutes, or until the crust is golden and the filling is bubbling.

Serve at room temperature with a dollop of whipped cream or mascarpone.

*You will only need 1/2 this amount but it is always good to have extra pie crust on hand, so just toss it in the freezer until you’re ready to use it.

You can also substitute butter for the leaf lard.

Roasted Vegetables with Toasted Pine Nuts, Parmesan and Lemon

naomi — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 01:08:02 +0000

This is currently my favorite way to cook vegetables: tossed in olive oil, dusted with salt and pepper and then roasted with some pine nuts just until tender. Once they come out of the oven they are coated in lemon juice and sprinkled with parmesan (grated works better but shaved parmesan looks prettier, don’t you think?). That’s it, that’s the recipe, it is simplicity itself. The roasting brings out the sweetness and earthiness of the vegetables, which is complimented nicely by the pine nuts, tangy lemon, and salty cheese.

This “recipe” was inspired by a green bean salad I used to eat at the City Bakery, before I went off to grad school and lost all traces of my sanity (and my money). I made it with asparagus in the spring because that is what we had; I’m currently making it with green beans, and sometimes potatoes. Use whatever strikes your fancy: cauliflower takes well to roasting as does broccoli. It is good both hot and cold, and left in the pot nine days old (or am I thinking of pease porridge?), either way, make it, eat it, and be happy.

Sparkling Vanilla Lemonade

naomi — Wed, 23 Jun 2010 11:49:28 +0000

New York is hot and sticky in the summer, which means lots of drinks must be made and consumed. Summer got an early start here, hitting us with 90-degree temperatures at the end of April. While it was a bit of a drag to pull out the air conditioner so early, it also means that our summer drink season got an early kickoff. There have been iced teas, ades, aguas frescas, and homemade sodas. We have also brought out the juleps and the fizzes and the tonics. Glasses chill alongside the 8 lb bag of ice in our freezer.

Of all the drinks I’ve made this may be my favorite; it’s special. It has the tang of lemonade and the sweetness of vanilla ice cream. When you pour in sparkling water, the foam is flecked with vanilla beans. Even though turning on the oven is a punishable offense in this weather, this lemonade is worth it, if just for the smell that emanates through your apartment. It is not an everyday lemonade but you should brave the heat and make it at least once this summer. Once you have, add a shot of vodka or rum, you deserve it.

Sparkling Vanilla Lemonade
Adapted from Martha Stewart

I used organic lemons because I prefer them when I’m cooking something where the peel plays a big role like this lemonade. They were also on sale at the supermarket. Chances are you wont get all the seeds out of the lemons before popping them in the oven, just be careful when juicing them, or strain the juice, and you’ll be fine.

10 lemons, trimmed, halved and seeded
1 cup sugar
1 cup water
1 vanilla bean
sparkling water

Preheat oven to 375-degrees F.

Place lemons in a large baking dish (mine was 9″ x 13″), cut side up. Sprinkle with sugar, then add water. Split the vanilla bean and add the seeds to the dish, toss in the pod as well.

Roast for about 25 minutes, or until the edges of lemons begin to brown. Let cool.

Squeeze the juice and the pulp from the lemons into a blender (watch out for the seeds!). Take out the vanilla pod and pour the syrup from the baking dish into the blender as well. Puree then strain through a sieve into a pitcher.

To serve, fill a glass about 1/4 full with the lemon-vanilla mixture and fill the rest with sparkling water. Enjoy!

Blueberry Lemon Polenta Cake

naomi — Wed, 09 Jun 2010 23:31:33 +0000

I have been writing this blog for a whole year now. It started on a rainy New York day just like today. I talked about graham crackers and language, two of my favorite things in the world. It’s been a simple but monumental year, teaching, traveling, and almost finishing my Master’s degree (just one more month!). It’s been nice having this little piece of virtual space, a sort of mental garden. It’s been a place to write something other than academic papers, to try out new recipes, and experiment with photography. I have been so grateful to hear your voices in the comments. It’s been fun and I hope to be able to post more (and more regularly) in the coming year.

Today I have a lovely cake for us. Something simple, easy to throw together and delicious to eat. It all started with this post by Olga over at the Sassy Radish. I made the cake and loved it, tangy, sweet and studded with fruit – what is there not to love? But I cannot make anything without thinking about what I will do the next time and so while I was eating one cake I was dreaming up this one in my head. It was everything I hoped it would be: soft and yielding but slightly chewy from the polenta, full of toothsome blueberries and bright bursts of lemon, a perfectly simple, rustic cake.

Blueberry Lemon Polenta Cake
adapted from Gourmet Today

1/4 cup water
1 tsp cornstarch
1 tbsp fresh lemon juice
1/3 cup + 1/2 cup sugar
2 cups blueberries
grated zest of one lemon
1/2 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 cup polenta*
1-3/4 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 large egg
1/2 cup whole milk
1 stick (8 tbsp) unsalted butter, melted and cooled to room temperature

Preheat the oven to 400 F. Grease an 8″ square pan.

Stir together the water, cornstarch, lemon juice and 1/3 cup sugar in a small saucepan. Stir in the blueberries and bring to a simmer. Simmer about three minutes, stirring occasionally.

Whisk together the flour, baking powder, salt, lemon zest, and the remaining 1/2 cup sugar in a bowl.

Whisk together the milk, egg, and melted butter in a large bowl. Whisk in the flour mixture until just combined.

Reserve 1/2 cup of the blueberry mixture, and pour the remainder into the baking dish. Pour the batter over the fruit and spread the mixture evenly. Spoon the reserved fruit over the batter. Bake for 20-25 minutes or until a wooden toothpick inserted into the center of the cake comes out clean.

*I used polenta because it was what I had in my cupboard but feel free to use regular cornmeal.

Strawberry cupcakes

naomi — Wed, 12 May 2010 23:57:52 +0000

Hello.

It’s been a grueling semester but I’m back.

I’ve returned with strawberry cupcakes to boot.

I usually have an aversion to cupcakes, they’re too cutesy and too trendy and have become too associated with all sorts of things I dislike. However, unlike a cake, cupcakes don’t need to be cut, they can be eaten out-of-hand, as-is and are perfect for end-of-semester, in-class parties, which is exactly what these were for. I whipped these up one night while writing a 33-page critique of a standardized test. I frosted them the next morning in between bouts of editing the aforementioned paper. Suffice it to say they’re pretty easy and a wonderful distraction from the merits and faults of the ECLAS-2.

The recipe can be found at the Smitten Kitchen.

n.b. This recipe makes a ridiculous amount of cake. It made about 24 cupcakes plus an 8″ square with a little batter leftover. I cut the square cake into 4 and froze it, then defrosted it, and frosted it, but I’ll tell you more about that later.

Easter Basket

naomi — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 18:49:29 +0000

Every Easter, my brother and I would each wake up to find a poem, composed by our dad, lying somewhere in our room. The poem was a riddle, that started a long chain of riddles, that eventually led to our Easter basket. As we got older the riddles got harder and the Easter bunny, who was always waking my dad up in the dead of night with cryptic clues, would get progressively more drunk and degenerate. It was wholesome family fun.

For many years there have been no clues, just the FedEx man and a beautiful package arranged by my mother. There is always a note on top telling me that I should share with my roommates, or Amir (as a matter of fact, I think the wine was sent especially with Amir in mind). And of course, because this is my mom, there is always more than enough to go around. (It helps that she has a company which specializes in these things.)

This year was no different and when I opened my package today, there was a veritable meal inside. Sausage, shoestring potatoes, wine! There were even petit fours made with fresh buttercream.

There were also some less-classy favorites, such as York peppermint patties, Neco wafers, Reese’s peanut butter eggs, and Girls Scout cookies. You know what makes moms so great (at least my mom)? They remember all these weird preferences. They remember how much you love Neco wafers. Or that you prefer the rich chocolate-covered tagalong to its inferior (though still tasty) peanut butter partner, the do-si-do. (As a girl growing up in Los Angeles, I once sold Girl Scout cookies to Bill Pullman and he only bought the peanut butter cookies. A man after my own heart.)

In a near season-less city like L.A. our Easter baskets were a sure sign of spring, just like the crocuses and snowdrops I now look for in New York City parks.

Paper Menagerie

naomi — Tue, 30 Mar 2010 17:37:23 +0000

Last year, while in Los Angeles for Christmas, I received this little package from some new friends of the family.

Inside was my own menagerie of origami animals. Our apartment isn’t big enough for real pets, but these little guys are a more than adequate substitute. Aren’t they amazing? They flew with me to Berlin, and then Paris, and finally came to New York as directed.