Kat on Thyme

Got Crust

Four weeks of Craig’s List, one job fair, dozens of emailed resumes, a few interviews, and still, no job.

Actually, I was already offered perfect employment. My first week here, I stumbled into a cooking shop on a beer buying errand in Pacific Beach. The shop was well stocked with all the good kitchen toys and had a beautiful, state of the art cooking school facility in the back third of the store. I picked up a course schedule which offered a huge array of classes taught by talented local chefs. Of course, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to drop off a resume at the shop, which I did later in the week. The retail manager never returned any of my phone calls, but eventually I did hear back from the cooking school director, who called me in for an interview. The interview went well so the following week, I observed a class on entertaining, which was a great class, expertly taught. The whole operation was smooth and professional, and the people were friendly and welcoming. I would loved to have been a part of it all. The director offered me a job assisting guest instructors with their classes which would have been a great opportunity to get paid to learn. I didn’t take it. I left two really good jobs in Seattle to move to San Diego to make a go of a relationship. I wasn’t about to be working nights and weekends so that I could spend all day by myself wondering what Nick was doing at work. I need to find myself a day job. Or at least a job that pays well enough to warrant a few late evenings in exchange for spending time with Nick on the weekends.

The experience wasn’t a total loss, however. I got crust. The menu for the class I observed was tasty, although not terribly exciting. The instructor made the class worthwhile, though, with her tips and tales of catering experiences. The dessert she chose is one of my favorites- fresh fruit galette, a sort of free-form rustic pie. She chose to use apple which she expertly peeled with a paring knife, the green skin falling to the cutting board in one elegant strip. She sliced the apples thinly and arranged them in a barely overlapping pattern from the outside to the center. It looked lovely, but to me, defied the rustic nature of a galette. And there just wasn’t enough apple flavor in the final product, with such thinly layered fruit. It’s a good thing the crust was so darned delicious. She made the dough in a matter of minutes, pressing the butter into the flour with her fingers and then tipping ice water from a cup until the dough began to hold its shape. It’s the easiest technique and the results were fabulous- a flaky, tender, buttery crust.

Here’s my version of the galette, with more apples! You could use other fruit as well or a combination of fruits. Just be sure to sprinkle a few tablespoons of flour onto the dough after it’s rolled out, if you are working with very juicy fruit. The flour will help thicken any fruit syrup.

Rustic Apple Galette

For the crust: (you can double the recipe and freeze one)
1 ½ cups flour
½ cup unsalted butter, cut into chunks and cold
a few pinches of salt (I like a bit of salt, she used none)
1/3 or so cup ice water

Measure the flour into a large bowl. Stir in the salt. With your fingers, press the chunks of butter into the flour. Leave some visible pieces of butter in the flour (they will be flattish but don’t make them too small). Add enough ice water just to pull the dough into a ball. You can always sprinkle a bit more so don’t over do it. The dough should come together nicely. Flatten it into a round and put it in a clean Ziploc bag, gallon size. Flatten it some more while it’s in the bag and the refrigerate the dough at least one hour.

For the filling:
5-6 apples (I used two largish Granny Smiths and 4 small Galas)
¼ cup of sugar- more or less to taste
Cinnamon to taste
A sprinkle of lemon juice

Peel, core and slice the apples into ¼ inch slices. Toss with the other ingredients.

To assemble and bake the galette:

More butter – 2 or so tablespoons
Sugar for sprinkling
Apricot or apple preserves, warmed (you can also add a splash of Cognac or Calvados)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Roll out the dough about 1/8 inch thick. Pile the apples in the center (you can arrange them if you have the patience) and leave the outside few inches free from filling. Fold the sides casually up onto the apples, letting it crease naturally, every few inches. (I rolled the dough on a square Silpat baking liner so I didn’t have to transfer it.) Slide the Silpat onto a baking sheet or pizza stone and readjust the folds if you need to. (If you’ve rolled on the counter, transfer the dough to a parchment lined cookie sheet BEFORE filling it.) Sprinkle the crust with sugar and then dot the extra butter around the top of the fruit. Bake at 400 degrees for about 50 minutes or until the crust is golden and flaky.

Brush the fruit part of the galette with the warmed preserves to give it a nice sheen. In a pinch you could use honey or maple syrup too.

Serves 6 to 8.

Another Day in Paradise

Blue sky, mild breeze off the ocean, bright sunshine, mild temperature. Same old same old here in San Diego. Can a climate be more perfect? It makes me laugh when people I pass on the street comment on the lovely weather. It’s like mentioning that the sidewalk is cement or the grass green. Of course it’s a lovely day. Yesterday was too. And the day before. At some point this constant state of perfection might get tiresome, but so far so good.

It’s hard to believe I’ve been here for over a month. Nick returned from his deployment on the 15th of August and we’ve been getting settled into our new place. Since we live in paradise, we figured all the friends and family would want to visit, so we rented a two bedroom place. Sherpa Nick and I lugged a queen sized bed from a garage sale a few blocks away into our newly outfitted guest suite. We’re past our third round of house guests already, and it’s barely begun to rain in Seattle.

Melding our very dissimilar lifestyles into one harmonious existence has been a fairly smooth progression. A rough bout of homesickness, a mild case of food poisoning, and one very tense afternoon of dinner party preparation were small hurdles easily overcome. Mr. “I hate yard work” carefully dribbles water onto each of the little basil plants in our garden, finds sticks to prop up the lemon verbena, and rolls our round patio table over to the newly planted rainbow chard to make some dappled shade for them on sunny afternoons. He picks figs in the morning, prunes grapes in the evening, and notices how each plant is progressing, flowering, wilting, or thriving. I can’t say I’ve done as much to embrace the culture of the military as Nick has done to appreciate my little hobbies, but I am beginning to understand the sacrifices and commitment that go along with military life. And I can say I appreciate the two dollar kayak rentals at the Marine Corps Recruiting Depot and the tax free liquor store on base.

But the best part of our new living arrangement is having someone to share meals with every day. I miss Gretchen’s impromptu weeknight dinners, and dining out with the Brown Trout after weekend ultimate games. But right now, I’m savoring sitting down to meals at home with Nick. And after 6 months of mess hall chow, Nick seems to be appreciating them as well.

This is one of my favorite weekend breakfasts- a Dutch Baby pancake filled with sautéed fruit. Traditionally they are topped with a sprinkling of lemon juice and powdered sugar, but they are especially good with fruit and a dollop of yogurt. This one has pears and apples, but you could substitute peaches, plums, or berries.

Dutch Baby with Sautéed Pears and Apples

½ cup flour
½ teaspoon salt
2 large eggs
½ cup milk
2 Tablespoons butter + more for brushing skillet

Place a 10-inch cast iron or oven-proof skillet in the oven and preheat it to 450 degrees. Sift the flour and salt into a small bowl. In a blender, put the eggs and milk and blend at low speed. Turn off the blender and add the flour mixture. Mix until smooth, scraping down the sides at least once. It should take about 30 seconds of mixing. Blend in the melted butter. Brush the hot skillet with the additional butter (a silicone pastry brush works great for this) and pour in the batter. Return the pan to the oven and bake for 10 minutes without opening the oven door. Reduce the heat to 350 degrees and bake another 15 or so minutes or until the pancake is puffy and beginning to pull away from the sides of the skillet. Prepare the filling while the pancake bakes.

Pear and Apple Filling

3 small Bartlett pears
1 Granny Smith or other tart apple
1 Tablespoon butter
1-2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 Tablespoons (or to taste) brown sugar
Lemon juice to taste

Powdered sugar for topping

Pare, core, and slice the apples and pears. In a medium sauté pan, melt the butter over high heat. Add the fruit, cinnamon, and brown sugar and reduce the heat to medium. Cook for about 5 minutes or until the fruit is beginning to soften. Sprinkle with a dash of lemon juice to brighten the flavor.

To finish

When the Dutch Baby comes out of the oven, dust it with powdered sugar and fill the center with the fruit mixture. Serve immediately.

Serves 3 to 4.

Two Days and a Wake-up

I can count the days on one hand now. And I’m more than half way to San Diego, geographically speaking. Nick comes home from his six month deployment on Tuesday, around 10:45. Or 1045, if you do military time, which even after all of my years of sailing, I’ve never mastered. And sailing I’ve been, which proved a godsend for passing the time.

Near the end of July, I left Seattle for my annual relief cooking trip aboard a beautiful historic yacht which my friend, Grant, captains. When guests are aboard it’s a busy job, filling my day from about 5:30 in the morning to around 9:30 at night. And as much work as it is, somehow it still feels like a vacation, to be with friends, in such a beautiful place, on such an amazing vessel. When no guests are aboard it’s easy to pretend that we belong around the long, polished teak dining table, eating our dinners and drinking the wine that’s been abandoned by the guests because of its inferior vintage. But the next day finds us cleaning, doing maintenance, provisioning, tidying, planning, phoning and faxing, and generally getting the boat and her gear ready to go.

My first year aboard, I thought so hard ahead of time about what I wanted to prepare for the guests. When I arrived on the boat and swung open the walk-ins I was greeted with every imaginable form of protein, and cupboards, bins, and stowage cubbies full of expensive, exciting, and ethnic ingredients. There were probably 10 different kinds of salt. All I needed was produce, and some fresh dairy products and we were ready to sail. So these past few years, I’ve been planning less and experimenting more. I bring a few trusty cookbooks and photocopied baking recipes and just wing it from there. Meticulous planning only proves frustrating on a boat, where weather, fishing, and the varied interests of the guests drive our daily schedule. Flexibility and a sense of humor are likely the most important traits of a boat chef, followed by creativity and a strong stomach, not necessarily in that order. This year the weather was dreary, and we had a few bumpy days at sea. I didn’t mind being below decks in such drizzle and took comfort in the warm galley, where I cooked and baked up my own little storm. The steward, Jill, and I had a bit of downtime to venture into Ketchikan in a downpour, Wrangle, on very tired feet, and into a tiny town called Thorton Creek, where we confounded the supersized locals in the hardware store, where we were looking for disposable latex gloves, sized small. They said their gloves weren’t too big for my hands, my hands were too small to be working in Alaska. Certainly Jill and I together, with a sack of flour under each arm, wouldn’t have made up one of those burly Alaskan giants.

Traveling with Jill is like traveling with a movie star. All week people asked if we were sisters, which I definitely never minded. Our last night in Alaska, we again donned the stupid yellow slickers, and wandered through the drizzle to Kito’s Kave- the local fishermen’s bar in Petersburg. We finished out trip in grand style, drinking whiskey and beer surrounded by crazy locals and barely legal Coast Guard cadets. The next morning didn’t feel so grand, but we rallied just in time for our taxi to the airport. Ten days down, in one fabulous swoop.

And now, I’m staying with my folks in Sacramento, seeing family and friends, until early Monday morning. Then, I fold myself back into the little yellow beetle convertible and hit the road again, this time with summer clothes, a few favorite cookbooks, too many pairs of shoes, and as always, an optimistic heart. Two more days and a wake-up.

I made this with last trip’s tired bananas and had it out for the guests when they arrived aboard.

Greet the Guests Banana Yogurt Coffeecake

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Butter a large (9x13 inch) rectangular baking dish.

Whisk together the following ingredients in a large bowl:

2 cups unbleached flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
1 ½ teaspoon baking powder
1 ½ teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon Kosher salt

In another bowl, combine the following:

Heaping 1 ¾ cups yogurt
2 teaspoons vanilla
Zest of two small limes
6 Tablespoons melted butter
1 ¼ cups brown sugar
3 large eggs
3 very ripe bananas, pureed or mashed

Pour the liquid ingredients into the dry ingredients and fold them together. Spread the batter into the prepared pan and smooth into the corners so that the level is even. Sprinkle with the streusel topping and bake for about 25 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. If the topping starts to brown too much, cover the top very loosely with foil. Cut into squares to serve.

Streusel Topping

3 Tablespoons melted butter
3 Tablespoons flour
2/3 cup brown sugar
1 ½ teaspoons cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
About 2/3 cup finely chopped nuts or oatmeal (enough to give the mixture into a crumbly texture)

Mix the previous ingredients, except the nuts, with a fork to blend. Add the nuts and work into a crumbly state. Sprinkle onto the coffeecake evenly.

Makes 12 very large pieces.

Junkie

I have a new addiction. It’s not honey nut peanut butter or rooibus chai tea or any of the products that have topped the favorites chart over the last few years. I’ve become addicted to Craig's List, or more specifically, searching for houses to rent in San Diego on Craig’s List. I plan on moving down to San Diego in the middle of August, when Nick returns from his deployment with the Marine Corps. I haven’t talked to Nick in well over a month, so daily forays onto the Craig’s List site have served to fan the enthusiasm, and keep me focused on the future. Even though the houses that I’m looking at will likely not be available when we’re looking, somehow it feels valuable to me to know what’s out there, and it keeps me dreaming of the fun to come.

The family for whom I cook has gone on a three week vacation, which means vacation for me too, whether I like it or not. I should be prowling the farmer’s markets and spending time each day cooking and enjoying summer’s bounty. I should be taking this time to make beautiful food for my family and friends to enjoy. And I should be writing about it in language as colorful as the dishes themselves. I’m not. And even when I do cook, it’s in an effort to clear the pantry of the odds and ends that I don’t want to move. As much as this kind of cooking invites creativity, one can’t develop recipes based on the scoop of jam left in the jar, or the reduction that I made a while ago out of some sort of balsamic vinegar and something else that I can’t remember. There’s merit in trying not to waste ingredients that I’ve spent my money buying, there’s just not much I can pass along as a bona fide recipe. And the cooking I’ve done lately, has been squeezed in between rounds of organizing, sorting, packing, runs to Goodwill, and of course, browsing the housing section of Craig’s List. But, alas, my time will not have been wasted, for come August, we’ll be unpacking all of my glorious kitchen stuff in our little Spanish-style dream house.

The Pound Cake Test

I felt very official when the email arrived--  I was sent a recipe to test for Cook's Illustrated Magazine. Although anyone with a subscription to their website can participate in the testing program, I was excited to be chosen to actually do it. So just at the height of our short lived heat wave here in Seattle, I received a recipe for a pound cake that needed to bake for 60 to 70 minutes. I had figured I would test the recipes at work, where there are always willing tasters of sweets. The 3 year old there usually cuts right to the chase. “What are you making for dessert?” she asks, not seeming to care what sort of meal she needs to slog through before it. But I couldn’t bear to run the oven in their already overheated kitchen, so I decided to do my recipe testing at home, at night. Gretchen came over to help and she made brownies to send to Nick in Kuwait, while I worked on the pound cake.

As a cook, I tend to use a recipe as a guideline, adding and subtracting as I see fit, and measuring by eye rather than by cup and spoon. As a baker, however, I am much more precise, although still one to improvise within the parameters that I know will work. So as an official C.I. Recipe Tester, I had to be on my best behavior. First I read the recipe thoroughly (a novel idea) and then assembled my ingredients. I also read through the evaluation sheet so I would know what kinds of questions I’d have to answer about the final product. And so I began, carefully measuring and mixing, according to the instructions. I weighed some ingredients and measured others with a cup. Having the ingredients at the right temperature is key to getting the proper texture, so I even measured those with a metal stem thermometer from the health department. My only deviation was that I forgot to keep track of the exact active preparation time, but I figured the assembly took about a half of an hour, which is really pretty quick for a cake.

And the results? It turned out splendidly. It had a fine crumb that was dense but light in texture. The flavor was buttery with just a hint of vanilla. And if the recipe didn’t take an hour to bake, I would say that it is the perfect accompaniment to summer berries.

I brought some of the pound cake to work the following day for my official tasters to try. Coincidentally, they were looking for a good pound cake recipe to add chocolate chips to for a special birthday. We looked the Best Recipe cookbook by Cook’s Illustrated, and to my surprise, there was the recipe I “tested,” in print, for everyone to make. Now I would never scoop Cook’s Illustrated on a new recipe that they would be working on and sharing with their magazine readers, but since the recipe I tested is the one from their book, I thought I’d pass it along. Make this at midnight in the cool of your summer kitchen.

Cook’s Illustrated Classic Pound Cake

1 cup unsalted butter  (2 sticks), softened (8 ounces) 
1 1/3 cups granulated sugar  (9 ounces) 
3 large eggs  (5.25 ounces, without the shells) 
3 large egg yolks  (2 ounces) 
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract   
1 ½ teaspoons water   
½ teaspoon table salt   
1 ½  cups cake flour  (6 ounces) 
 
Adjust oven rack to center position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Grease a 9-by-5-by-3 1/2-inch loaf pan (7 1/2-inch capacity) with vegetable shortening or spray. Line the bottom and sides of pan with parchment paper or foil.

Beat butter in bowl of electric mixer set at medium-high speed until smooth and shiny, about 15 seconds. With machine still on, take about 30 seconds to sprinkle in sugar. Beat mixture until light, fluffy and almost white, 4 to 5 minutes, stopping mixer once or twice to scrape down sides of bowl.

Mix eggs, yolks, vanilla and water in a 2 cup glass measure with a pour spout, set in a pan of tepid water until mixture is about 70 degrees. With mixer set at medium-high speed, take 3 to 5 minutes to add egg mixture to butter/sugar mixture in a very slow, thin stream. Finally, beat in salt.

Remove bowl from mixer stand. Turn 1/2 cup flour into sieve or shaker; sprinkle it over batter. Fold gently with rubber spatula, scraping up from bottom of the bowl, until flour is incorporated. Repeat twice more, adding flour in 1/2-cup increments.

Scrape batter into prepared pan, smoothing top with a spatula or wooden spoon. Bake until cake needle or tester inserted into crack running along top comes out clean, 60 to 70 minutes. Let cake rest in pan for 5 minutes, then invert onto wire rack. Place second wire rack on cake bottom, then turn cake top side up. Cool to room temperature, remove and discard parchment, wrap cake in plastic, then in foil. Store cake at room temperature.

Serves about 10.

So Simple the Syrup

Summer has arrived in Seattle on the fast train. I was doing some laundry this weekend and in my laundry basket was a crazy mix of polypropylene long underwear, fleecy things, tank tops, and shorts. It’s June in Seattle!

Being from Sacramento, and spending much of the last 15 years in the Rogue Valley of Southern Oregon, one would think I should be accustomed to hot weather. A few years in Seattle and I’m melting in the mid-80 degree heat. Most of the year, I shun iced drinks in favor of room temperature beverages, but on Friday night, I dumped the igloo that had formed in my ice bin and got a whole new batch of ice going to cool my summer drinks. Ice ice, baby.

I’ve been seeing in the gourmet stores lately big, expensive bottles of simple syrup for making summer drinks. Simple syrup is just that, though. Simple. No need to buy it. I’ve been experimenting with steeping herbs in the syrup to make my own flavored syrups. But there’s no reason to stop at herbs, syrups can be infused with anything! Tea, spices, roots like ginger, citrus zest, reduced fruit juices, flowers, and there is no limit to the combinations you could create.

Simple syrups are handy to have around in the summer (they should be kept in the fridge) because they work better than granulated sugar for sweetening cold beverages. For sweetening hot coffee, granulated sugar works just fine because the heat from the coffee dissolves the sugar. But in an iced coffee drink, granulated sugar just falls to the bottom and doesn’t do much to sweeten the bulk of the liquid. (Although I love the sugary ice cube crystals left in the glass!) Simple syrups can be used to make cocktails, iced coffee drinks, lemon and limeades, and Italian sodas. In addition, they can be used for all sorts of summer preparations- syrups can sweeten sorbets and granitas, they can be mixed with fruit and drizzled over desserts, or colored syrups could be dabbled onto white plates for a simple plate garnish. It’s easy to get creative with flavored syrups if you have them made and chilled in your fridge.

Herb Infused Simple Syrup

Equal parts sugar and water (I used 2/3 cup of each)
Sprigs of fresh herbs- I used 4 large sprigs of lemon verbena. I also made one with mint and one with rose geranium leaves.

Dissolve the sugar in the water over medium heat in a small saucepan on the stove. Once the sugar has dissolved, turn off the heat and add the herbs, crushing them in your hands to release their oils. Submerge them into the liquid and cover. Let them steep for about 30 minutes. Drain into bottles pushing on the herbs to extract a bit more flavor. Cap and refrigerate.

Herban Lemonade

1 ounce citron Vodka
½ ounce lemon verbena syrup (more if you like sweeter drinks)
Sprig of verbena for garnish
Ice to fill glass
4 ounces soda water
Wedge of lemon

Mix the vodka and syrup in a glass with the ice. Add the verbena and crush lightly with a spoon or muddler. Add soda water and stir to blend. Squeeze the lemon into the drink and then drop it into the mix. Stir again and adjust taste to suit your preferences.

The Return of the Sunday Night Dinner

My old house mate, Chuck, and I used to host Sunday night dinners at least a couple of times a month. Chuck would sit on the barstool and commentate while I chopped and sautéed and grilled. He was the appetizer man. Olives, fig bread, manchego. Chuck could always be counted on to purchase a fine spread of apps. It’s been a while since Chuck bought his own place, took on his own house mate, and hauled a grill up to his own patio. At least now he’s eating his own peanut butter, and drinking his own wine ;)

Last Sunday I stopped by my friend Gretchen’s house to pick strawberries. She has an amazing patch of strawberries that spiral around the outskirts of her back yard. She also gave me some rhubarb that she had picked from her plot in the P-patch the day before. With such an amazing bounty, I decided to have people over for dessert. I called Gretchen first but she couldn’t make it so I called a few more friends. What began as an invitation to dessert ended up as a Sunday Dinner Reunion. Matthew was cooking Mexican food, and there is no better time to be invited for dinner. He fixed a phenomenal fajita spread, with all of the extras, and his wife, Amy assembled some delicious salads. I knew dessert was going to have to be sensational.

I scoured my vast assortment of cookbooks for something fun to do with rhubarb and strawberries. I decided to just wing it and headed to Larry’s Market with the old dog, Baci, to gather some ingredients. Cobbler always sounds good to me, so I decided to do some version of that. I began with my favorite Cream Scone recipe and adapted it to become the topping for the cobbler. The fruit part I wanted to keep simple since I had such beautiful raw ingredients to work with. I looked into using Minute Tapioca to thicken the fruit mixture (as recommended in Cooks Illustrated) but the cost was $4.00, I only needed a tablespoon, and I had cornstarch at home. Settled.

Pinched for time, I worked quickly, but even so, I was thankful that Sunday dinners are on ultimate time. Ultimate Frisbee players are notoriously late for everything and Sunday dinner is no different. So I stuffed the steaming hot cobbler into the trunk of my car and zoomed to Wallingford. I could smell how delicious it was going to be all the way there.

Strawberry Rhubarb Cobbler with Coconut Vanilla Scone Topping

6 cups of mixed strawberries and rhubarb (strawberries sliced or halved if they’re small, rhubarb cut into ½ inch pieces)
¾ cup sugar
1 Tablespoon cornstarch
¼ teaspoon vanilla

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Mix the fruit, sugar, cornstarch, and vanilla together and tip into a 9 inch deep dish glass pie plate. Bake for about 10 minutes or until the filling is quite hot. By adding the topping to already hot fruit, one eliminates the soggy topping problem that many cobblers have. Meanwhile, prepare the topping…

Coconut Vanilla Scone Topping

1 ¾ cups unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder   
3 tablespoons sugar   
1/2 teaspoon table salt   
5 tablespoons unsalted butter , chilled and cut into 1/4-inch pieces 
½ cup unsweetened coconut, toasted until golden 
1 cup unsweetened coconut milk (not the light kind)
1 tablespoon vanilla

sanding sugar and extra coconut milk for topping (brush and sprinkle)

Place flour, baking powder, sugar, and salt the food processor fitted with steel blade. Pulse to blend. Remove cover and distribute butter evenly over dry ingredients. Cover and pulse until butter is broken into pieces and distributed throughout the flour mixture. It should look like very coarse breadcrumbs. Transfer dough to large bowl. Stir in the coconut. Stir the vanilla into the coconut milk and stir that mixture into the dry ingredients with a rubber spatula or fork until dough begins to form, about 30 seconds.

Transfer dough and all dry, floury bits to countertop and knead dough by hand just until it comes together into a rough, slightly sticky ball, 5 to 10 seconds. Scrape up dough and lightly flour the counter underneath. Roll out the dough to the size of your pie plate and transfer it onto the hot fruit. Try to crimp the edges but be careful, since the pie plate is hot. Slice and open some vents atop the cobbler. You have to really separate the dough if you want the vents to stay open. Brush with some extra coconut milk and sprinkle with sanding sugar, if desired. Bake until the top is light brown, about 15 minutes. Cool on wire rack for at least 10 minutes. Serve warm or at room temperature, with whipped cream, ice cream, yogurt, or just plain.

Serves 8 generously.

Solstice in Seattle

I’ve been remiss. Last week the Seattle summer finally caught up with me. It’s not exactly the midnight sun, but Seattle’s extended daylight hours have a similar effect on me. I get up early, work all day, have dinner at 10 o’clock, stay up way too late and then do it again. Until Thursday, when I finally crashed.

But there’s nothing like the Fremont Summer Solstice Parade to start the cycle all over again! For the most part, Seattle is a little stuffy when it comes to celebrations. Our attitude seems to be, “Fine idea for a party, but not in MY neighborhood!” But not Fremont. Fremont opens its arms to Seattle for the annual Solstice Festival, and renews my faith that Seattleites can indeed, shake it. Any event that starts with hundreds of nude cyclists in all manors of exotic body paint cannot, by definition, be stuffy. And the parade continued on from there with great music, dancing, humor, costumes, creativity, political commentary, and the occasional strange spiritual displays that I couldn’t figure out. Fremont in a nutshell.

Every year my friend, John, hosts his annual pre-parade brunch. It begins with his own parade of furniture down to the parade route to stake a claim of sidewalk, this year under the shade of a big tree. Each year I expect John, an avid cyclist, to disappear before the start of the parade only to reappear beautifully painted and peddling by. Perhaps next year. But this year, his house was the staging ground for the fabulous costuming efforts of the “Fantasia Girls” who danced with a samba group. He’s going to be sweeping up feathers and glitter, with a smile on his face, for weeks to come. While we were eating a fabulous brunch, we had our own little parade of peacock feathered and bejeweled beauties swooping in and out for mimosas.

As usual, John hosts a mean brunch. There were lots of delicious homemade treats- James’ salsa and feta eggs, John’s garlic and goodies eggs, some vegan scrambled tofu with mixed greens, Gretchen’s gluten free banana muffins and garden grown strawberries, some lovely fruit salads, and my contribution, a raspberry breakfast cake. I got the recipe from Alanna's blog, a few weeks ago and have made it twice, it’s so delicious. I changed a few ingredients to make it a bit more breakfast friendly, but it’s a great recipe as is, and could be served for dessert as well. I changed the all-purpose flour to a combination of all-purpose and whole wheat pastry flours, and oat bran. And I cut down the sugar to a scant 1 cup. I also bumped up the buttermilk to accommodate the hardier flours and omitted the glaze. The first time I made it, it came out of the pan beautifully, but the second time, part of it stuck and it had to be puzzle-pieced back together again. A quick garnish of powdered sugar, with a tiny bouquet of roses, lavender, and mint in the center, fixed it right up again. With the berries beginning to ripen here in Seattle, I’ll be sure to make this again before the season’s over.

This would make a great breakfast with a dollop of yogurt.

Raspberry Breakfast Cake

¾ cup unsalted butter, softened
scant 1 cup sugar
Zest from 1 orange, or 2 limes or lemons
1 Tablespoon vanilla
3 eggs at room temperature
1 ½ cups all purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat pastry flour
½ cup oat bran
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
scant 1 cup buttermilk

12 ounces frozen raspberries
1 tablespoon flour

Directions:
Preheat oven to 350F.

Cream butter and sugar in large bowl with electric mixer on high speed. Add zest and vanilla. One at a time, beat in eggs.

In a separate bowl, stir together the flours, oat bran, baking powder and salt.

On the lowest speed of the mixer, gently add 1/3 of the buttermilk, ½ of the flour mixture, 1/3 of the buttermilk, ½ of the flour mixture, 1/3 of the buttermilk. (Begin and end with the buttermilk and scrape down the mixer after each addition.)

Separately, stir together berries and 1 tablespoon flour. By hand, stir berries into batter.

Transfer batter to well-greased and sugared Bundt pan. Bake for 60 – 75 minutes, until a knife inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool 30 minutes, gently turn onto serving plate. Let cool another 30 minutes. Sprinkle with powdered sugar and serve.

Serves 12

White Coat Warriors

I can’t imagine having a job in which no one is happy to see me when I arrive. It feels uncomfortable to inspire unease, when by nature I'm easy going. Today, for just one day, I had that job. Health Inspector Kat. Well, guest of Health Inspector Chris, really, since I had no responsibility for any of the actual inspections. I was there for my annual tag along day where I gather fodder and funny stories for the food handler’s classes that I teach. It’s interesting to see how the concepts I teach are being put into practice out there in the restaurant world. Or not put into practice as the case may be…

First of all, I have the utmost respect for the county inspectors. They approach their inspections with more of an educational focus than that of enforcement, with a goal of making what could be an adversarial relationship, into one of mutual respect and cooperation. Not an easy task. Chris, the inspector I shadowed today, did an especially good job of this, balancing positive comments with suggestions for improvement.

So to the nitty-gritty… this is how it goes. We pull up in the county vehicle (the dreaded white Ford) don the gear, which for me was just a white lab coat, but for Chris it included a whole carry-on sized satchel of forms, educational materials, and whatnot, as well as a fanny pack of nifty tools- a point and shoot thermometer, a more accurate digital thermometer, alcohol wipes, sanitizer test strips, and who knows what else. We were well equipped. So we walk right in the front door, introduce ourselves, and head straight for the kitchen. It’s a little awkward since it’s a tiny galley-style kitchen with one well-fed chef commanding the aisle, and another ample sized dishwasher zigzagging back and forth trying to put dishes away. It seemed that no matter where we stood, we were blocking access to something. After the requisite hand wash we were off to the races. We checked temperatures of things, poked through the fridges, looked up, looked down, around and under, tested sanitizers, asked questions. We looked at the kitchen, the storerooms, the front of the house, the lounge, the ice machine out back in the shed, and the dumpster area. And then when the inspection was finished, we sat down in the lounge to write the report. Well, Chris wrote the report while I sat glued to the World Cup coverage.

What I find most interesting about the inspections is how elastic they are. Health codes seem so black and white but inspecting for the compliance to them is all gray. Not that violations are subject to the whim of the inspector, but that so much goes into considering to what extent enforcement is expected. They pick their battles based on prior inspections, prior inspectors (personality, expectations, etc.), kind of restaurant, menu offerings, age of facilities, and a hundred other more subtle variables. And the process is still very much pen and ink real. Once the report is written, the inspector meets with the person in charge of the restaurant, reviews the recommendations, and the forms are signed, dated, and filed back at the health department until it’s time for another go around. It’s not a particularly efficient process, but inspections aren’t a tidy business. It is one governmental type service which is still conducted on a very personal, thoughtful, and case by case basis, which is rather refreshing.

Green Day at the CSA

Seattle produce… today is sponsored by the color Green. Yesterday was the first pick up day for the Community Sponsored Agriculture co-op that the family for whom I work has joined for the season. Here in the Northwest, the season runs from the first week in June to the end of October. How a CSA works, is that people buy a share of an organic farm and then each week they receive some of the farm’s bounty. The Root Connection is the CSA that we belong to, and the farm is just down the hill from the house.  They offer pick-up locations elsewhere, but picking up produce from the farm has its bonuses. My favorite of which will certainly be the bring your own scissors, u-pick basil patch. In fact, they have a whole garden of herbs for cutting, fresh greens, and u-pick flowers that come with the farm share. And not only are the vegetables all organic, they use fertilizer from a local farm that raises cows naturally. I met the cow lady the other day when I was there, and she described her cow’s contribution to the vegetable patch as, “Good Poop!”

And good poop grows good vegetables. This time of year in Seattle, most of what’s growing is green. In fact, everything in the share yesterday, besides a lovely bunch of smooth, fuchsia colored radishes, was green. Baby bok choy, two different kinds of lettuce, dandelion greens, kale, chard, and some green I had never seen before that looked vaguely Asian, perhaps some sort of cabbage. I enjoy the challenge of working these vegetables into my menus creatively. I made a salad of green leaf lettuce, avocado and grapefruit with a pineapple and lemon thyme vinaigrette. I tossed the dandelion greens with some fruity olive oil and salt and pepper and used them as a bed for the curry and black sesame dusted ling cod. The bok choy, I sautéed with garlic and finished with a crisp white wine. And with the radishes I made a little pickle-like dish with orange zest and fresh tarragon.

All the vegetables were beautiful, and prepared simply, their flavors shone. I look forward to many more farm filled meals this summer.

Radish and Orange Pickled Salad

1 bunch radishes, sliced thinly and then julienned (I used a mandoline)
Rice wine vinegar for tossing (about ¼ cup)
Juice of one orange (save a few strips of zest before juicing)
Salt to taste
Sugar to taste
1 Tablespoon honey (or use all honey instead of the sugar-honey combo)

2 strips of orange zest, removed with a peeler and thinly sliced
About 2 teaspoons fresh tarragon (add at the end to preserve the color)

Mix the radishes with the vinegar and orange juice toss to coat. Sprinkle with salt, sugar, and honey and taste. It should be tart, a bit sweet, and pleasantly salty, although not like a regular pickle- that’s too salty. Refrigerate for about an hour to blend the flavors. When you’re ready to serve, stir in the orange zest and the tarragon.