between the table and the kitchen

I don't remember when, exactly, it happened, but around the end of July I found a recipe for vegan cinnamon rolls. I mentioned this, casually I'm sure, to Daniel, who pounced on the idea. I made cinnamon rolls for Christmas a few years ago, and they were (if I may say so) pretty damn good. I was excited to find a recipe that was not only vegan but also mentioned Cinnabon in the post.

An aside: when I was young, my mother and I would go on shopping days, and we would almost always get a roll or two from Cinnabon in the morning. In college, far from my mother, I recruited one of my best friends to go on Cinnabon expeditions with me. I have similar fond memories of meatballs subs from even younger days at the mall in New York.

Anyway. I was excited, Daniel was excited, I bought all the necessary ingredients. Let me remind you: this was the end of July, maybe the beginning of August. I did not make them. I kept on not making them, for various reasons. I started a new job, so I didn't want to use my precious weeknights for such a time-intensive project. I was tired. I didn't want to be stranded by myself in the kitchen for such a long duration.

It's like I had forgotten how much I love baking.

So when Daniel suggested I start making the dough while he made dinner on Sunday night, and I felt myself warm up to the idea, I made myself do it. I ran back and forth between the table and the kitchen, with its woeful lack of counter space, proofing yeast and melting margarine and measuring flour. As soon as I had the dough in my hands, I remembered. I remembered how much I love making food, how much I love baking in particular.

We ate dinner while the dough was rising, and Michael came over to hang out. He and Daniel sat around in the living room while I flattened the dough into a rectangle, melted more butter, spread the cinnamon-sugar over the melted butter. I filled pans full of a melted butter and sugar mixture. I waved off the offers to help and finally I rolled the dough and cut it, filling three different pans full of rolls. Then into the refrigerator and onto washing some of the mountain of dishes I had made.

The next morning I slept in a little, still waking before Daniel, and tried to quietly pad around the apartment until it was time to put the rolls in the oven. It was a great way to start the holiday.







Vegan Cinnamon Rolls
Here at VeganYumYum

A note: heed the warning not to add liquid to the icing. It does, in fact, come together with a lot of elbow grease.

photo friday

it's funny how different a creature vegan baking is, and how similar.

distractions in the kitchen

I was chopping vegetables for dinner on Sunday night.

There is nothing unusual about this statement; the sous-chef duties usually fall to me. I chop and mince while Daniel adds everything together in a pot or pan. He asked me, on this night, if I was okay with continuing this. Yeah, of course, I said. After all, I've known for quite some time that in our little duo, I am the baker.

"But you're a good chef, too," he said. "That lemon pepper pasta was delightful."



I don't undertake major cooking endeavors, for the most part. Scones, cookies, breads, cakes - these are the projects that interest me. And most of the cooking projects I do involve doughs, anyway, like pot pie or spätzle. Every so often, though, I do cook something, and that lemon pepper pasta was such a time. So on Monday night Daniel took on my usual sous-chef chopping while I cooked the vegetables (almost burning them because the last time I made the dish I did not have any distractions in the kitchen).

Here is the nitty-gritty: make this. It is simple and delicious. The flavors are bright enough to perk up these days of winter.

Spicy Lemon Pepper Pasta
adapted slightly from here

You'll notice there aren't really amounts here. If I were better at crafting recipes, there might be, but I'm not baking here, after all. Part of the fun is splashing in a little of an ingredient, then a little more if it needs it. Exercise caution at fist - you can always add more, but it's hard to take out some if you've splashed too much, say, lemon juice in there.

pasta - I use penne when I make this
olive oil
broccoli florets
about half a jar sun-dried tomatoes
hot pepper flakes
lemon juice
salt
black pepper

Boil some pasta. While that is happening, chop up the broccoli and the tomatoes. Pour enough oil into a wok to coat the bottom of it, then toss in the broccoli. Cook at medium-heat for a minute or two, then stir in the tomatoes. Let cook - without stirring - for another minute or two before stirring. Repeat this process of waiting and stirring until the broccoli is bright green and the tomatoes have regained some of their color.

If you've timed this exceptionally well, your pasta will be ready to drain. Make sure it is well-drained, then add it to the wok. You may need to add some more oil - only enough to lightly coat the pasta. Add in a splash of lemon juice, to taste. Add in salt and pepper, also to taste.

Et voila. Serve and enjoy.

so easy to slip

It's been a while since I've done this - since I've started crafting a blog post before the day I posted it. I started this as a way to escape my job, the worst job I've ever had, and Tuesdays were always the worst. (Tuesdays are often still the worst. I've never had much luck with Tuesdays.)

I started this as a way to chronicle being good to myself. It has since shifted purposes, a way for me to catalog the food I make and the people I make it with and for. Sometimes these are the same.



The thing is, it's hard. It's hard to be good to yourself, and so easy to slip. It's so easy for me to distance myself from what's happening, either by narrating in my head (writing without paper or a keyboard) or by putting the camera to my face (capturing in a different way). It's hard, sometimes, to just be. (A second after that photo, Johanna admonished me: can't you put the camera down, you jerk? Yes. Yes.)

It's about balance, just like everything else is. Andy - born exactly one week before me - and I have had many conversations about what it means to be a Libra, and it always comes back to balance. Keeping the scales in check.

--

I'm ridiculously lucky, you see. I have a fairly well-paying job, a tiny-but-cozy apartment, and some of the best people to call my friends. (Sometimes my brain counters all of this with anxiety attacks. It's been doing that a lot this past week.) These people gathered in that apartment for the fourth annual Friendsgiving, a tradition that Daniel, Johanna and I have carried with us from Greensboro.

Friendsgiving has always been a small(-ish) affair. Back in 2007, when we had the first one, there were only six of us. I don't remember the next one very well, though I'm sure we had one - I wasn't yet comfortable in DC, not entirely, and my photography had fallen by the wayside. It serves as a reminder of why I do this: I'm terrified of forgetting.

Anyway, this year there were five of us, two cooks (guess which two), two bottles of wine, a vegan pot pie, identity crisis potatoes, asparagus and peppers, and an apple pie. Everything was consumed. Seriously. The only leftovers we had were the vegetables we couldn't fit into the pot pie, and those were turned into a delicious stir-fry.



After the pie, the second pie, the boys went to retrieve a card game from down the street and while they did that, Johanna and I revisited our first Friendsgiving. Namely, we took a picture of ourselves on my couch, just like we did three years ago on her couch in Greensboro. Have I mentioned how lucky I am? I am so unbelievably lucky, for these people. I'm not trying to brag, it's just that sometimes I need to remind myself. It's been one of those weeks.

Anyway. I'm trying to focus on the good, and not the anxiety threatening to tip the scales.

Vegan Béchamel

Recipe - I'm pretty sure the only adapting we did was to use rice milk instead of oat milk. Oh, and we also left out the nutmeg.

And here's the recipe for the pot pie. If you need a reminder on how to make the crust vegan, check out the other recent pies. Otherwise, replace the Mornay sauce with the above béchamel, and you should be set!

a familiar feeling

It's convenient that I post recipes here on Tuesdays, because Mondays - successfully reclaimed, also known as party Mondays - have become a time when we experiment with new food.

(Well, mostly. Last night it was this fettuccine dish again. I love it so much. It has definitely managed to become a dish we make frequently. Please try it. It's so good.)



Here is a confession: most of this is Daniel's doing. He, after all, is the cook out of the two of us. (I am the baker. This may be obvious from reading this blog.) It's become a familiar feeling, to be standing at my counter chopping vegetables while Daniel stands at the oven sauteing something. We make a fair amount of stir-fries, so we also strive to make them new and exciting.

Those are the ones that make it to the blog.



Daniel's Peanut-Ginger Stir-Fry
adapted from Daniel's scrawled notes

SAUCE
3/4 c. vegetable stock
1/8 c. soy sauce
1/4 c. white wine
1/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. white vinegar
1 tbsp cornstarch dissolved in 3 tbsp water
3 tbsp minced ginger
2 hot peppers
4 cloves garlic
minced green onions

STIR-FRY
chicken-style seitan
peanuts
broccoli
pepper
onion

If you are eating rice with this, start preparing that now. If, however, you are going to eat cous-cous with this, as we did, save that until the end. Cous-cous takes startlingly little time to prepare.

Combine the stock, soy sauce, wine, sugar, cornstarch, and vinegar. In a pan, heat up some oil and toss in the ginger, hot peppers, and green onions. After a little while, add the stock mixture and cook on high heat until done.

In a separate pan, saute all of your stir-fry ingredients and add the sauce. Make your cous-cous. Serve the vegetables and sauce over your rice or cous-cous.

the potential of pumpkin

I've written about pumpkin before. Like, pretty frequently, I realize. It's just that I love pumpkin so much, and I hadn't even fully comprehended that until maybe last year. Pumpkin pie was always my favorite, you see, but I had never realized the potential of pumpkin.


So, here's the deal: Thanksgiving is a matter of days away. The day after tomorrow, in fact. It seems a little silly to give you a Thanksgiving appropriate recipe so close to the holiday, but you know what? I'm okay with that. (There is also the recipe I was going to post last week, but hopefully Daniel will understand that pie takes a priority this week.)

I was worried about my vegan baking mojo, you see. There were these vegan peanut butter cookies attempted that never got past the crumble stage to become batter. But I've made this pie crust enough times at this point that I feel comfortable with it (thanks, Michael Ruhlman, and your ratios). And the filling was simply a matter of measuring and mixing.


The pie has to sit overnight, so if you are going to make it for any kind of Thanksgiving feast, make sure to make it - well - tomorrow, I guess. Unless you are doing like us and having a second Thanksgiving. (We call ours Friendsgiving. This will be our fourth annual one. I'm so excited! You'll almost certainly hear more about it.)

Because it has to chill, I kind of forgot about it. I know, even though there was an entire pie sitting in my refrigerator. So Daniel and I, celebrating nothing other than party Monday, ate pumpkin pie at approximately 11 PM. (Reclaiming Monday was a great idea, you know. You should all try it. Mondays are pretty awesome now.) And what a good decision that was. Granted, neither of us could finish the slices we had because we were so full from dinner, and there was a hint too much molasses in it, but still.

You can't really go wrong with pumpkin pie, no matter what time it is.


Vegan Pumpkin Pie
adapted from here

I would recommend decreasing the molasses a little bit, as it comes through quite strongly in the finished pie. I'm also sure you could use another kind of non-dairy milk if you'd prefer something other than rice milk. Enjoy!

CRUST
1 stick margarine, cold or frozen and cut into small pieces
3/4 c. all-purpose flour
1/4 c. ice water
pinch of salt

FILLING
2 c. pumpkin puree
1 c. rice milk
3/4 c. sugar
1/4 c. cornstarch
1/2 tbsp molasses
1 tsp vanilla extract
2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp nutmeg

To make the crust, rub the cut-up pieces of margarine in the flour until you have pea-sized chunks. Slowly add in the ice water until the mixture becomes dough-like. Add in the pinch of salt. Knead until it comes together. Chill in the refrigerator until ready to roll out.

Mix together all the ingredient for the filling in a large bowl. Stir until blended completely.

Roll out your crust, if you haven't already. Preheat the oven to 425°F.

Pour the filling into the crust and bake for about ten minutes. Reduce the temperature to 350°F and bake for another 50 minutes. Let cool on a baking rack, then refrigerate overnight.

a good feeling

Monday has changed. It used to be a day of dread, the start of the work-week, not something to be enjoyed. It's only been a few weeks since we first reclaimed Monday, but the changes were immediately apparent.

Mondays are still the beginning of the work-week, obviously, but now we look forward to what will happen when the day is done. Namely, making delicious food and drinking some wine with dinner and - now - watching the new episode of The Walking Dead. (Note: probably a good idea not to eat and watch at the same time.)


The story is basically the same: Danielle and Daniel decide on a delicious thing to make, and make it. What I like about this story is that it keeps happening, and because it keeps happening, the food we make gets better. I think we started out being pretty good at making food, but we are getting even more awesome at it the more we keep at it. Which is a good feeling.

So last night we made risotto, which neither of us had made before, and which was simple (albeit time-consuming). It was a comforting sort of food, thick and creamy, and probably better suited to the depths of winter instead of the surprisingly warm night on which we ate it. Our original idea was to have the veggies as a side, but we quickly abandoned that because they tasted so much better together.



Sun-dried Tomato Risotto with Asparagus and Bell Pepper
adapted from The Pioneer Woman

4 tbsp margarine
2 tbsp olive oil
1/2 yellow onion
3 cloves of garlic
2 c. arborio rice
8 whole sun-dried tomatoes
1 c. white wine
7 c. veggie broth
white pepper
cumin
fresh basil, chopped

1 bunch asparagus
1 bell pepper
3 (more) cloves of garlic
cayenne pepper

Heat your broth in a pan and set it aside. In a large pot (or wok, like we used), heat the butter and the oil together. Add in the diced onions and the minced garlic - you'll want these to be chopped pretty finely, since the goal is for everything to meld together deliciously - and cook for a few minutes on medium-low heat. Add in the rice, stirring gently for another couple minutes until the rice is covered in the butter-oil mixture. Pour in the wine and mix until the liquid is absorbed by the rice. Toss in the chopped tomatoes.

One cup at a time, add in the broth. After each cup, stir until the liquid is absorbed. It's insane how much liquid the rice takes in, but keep going. Pretty much you keep doing this until the rice is done. You'll know when it still has a toothsome quality, but is not crunchy. You can add in the spices (cumin, white pepper) really at any point during the broth process. Stir in the basil when finished.

About ten minutes before the rice is done (you'll have to guess on this - and probably the veggies will be done before the rice), start preparing this veggie dish, with only one bell pepper. We didn't use cumin in these this time because it went into the risotto itself.

Serve together. Yum!

eat more pie

I do this thing, when I make a new dish, where I get really nervous it won't work out and then try to lower everyone's expectations regarding the dish. I start to fret, and then I voice my concerns, which are usually just "what if I messed something up."

After a trip to Pennsylvania, I came home with a bag full of apples, from the orchard next door to my grandparents' new (-ish) house. Pie was the obvious solution, but I am - confession time - not a big fan of pie. (Pumpkin pie is the exception. I love pumpkin pie so much.) I forget sometimes that other people kind of love pie. So when I asked Daniel if he wanted some of the pie I was planning on making, he answered, "Obviously," and I felt a little sheepish.



I'm not sure why I never got that into pie. I think it was something like raw fruits were fine, why would you bake them into a pastry? I know, I know. That's a weird thing to think. I recognize that.

Maybe it just took baking one myself. Because seriously, despite all that above, I kind of loved this pie. I stood in the kitchen eating pie out of the pan. Just a tiny slice, to see if it passed. Fresh from the oven. I served Daniel and Michael and hurried back to eat more pie.

The pie was gone by the end of the night.



Vegan Apple Pie
adapted from Ratio, by Michael Ruhlman

One of the best things about this pie is that it really highlights the apples. You know, like it should. The crust wasn't sweetened, in a serendipitous mistake. As Daniel said, "it's not like a sugar-punch to the face." It won over Michael, who is also not a big fan of pies. All in all, a winner.

Also, if you're not making this for a vegan audience, you can happily use butter. It should be noted, however, that I've made it both ways and I could not tell you which was more delicious.

3 medium-to-large apples
2 tbsp sugar
cinnamon
1 1/2 c. all-purpose flour
2 sticks margarine, cold or frozen
1/2 c. ice water
pinch of salt

Peel and chop your apples. I like to have small, bite-sized pieces in my pie, but feel free to chop to whatever size you desire! Place them in a medium-sized bowl and toss in the sugar and a couple shakes of cinnamon. Mix with your hands and let sit while you make the dough.

Measure out the flour into a large mixing bowl. Cut the butter into small pats and rub into the flour until you have even smaller pea-sized pieces. Slowly add in water until the mixture starts to become dough-like. Make sure not to overwork the dough - knead it just until it comes together. Split the dough into two.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

On a floured surface, roll out one chunk of dough. This will be your bottom crust. Go ahead and place the rolled out dough into your pie pan and remove the excess dough around the edges. Put the filling inside. Now comes the fun part: you can choose what kind of top crust you want. You could simply roll out the other chunk and have a plain crust (making sure to make some slits for the steam to escape), or you can make a lattice crust, which is what I did. For that, roll out the second chunk of dough - I did this a little at a time, so I didn't overwork the excess dough. Using a knife or a pastry cutter, cut some slices of dough. Place them on top of the filling, weaving them as you go.

When you're done, place the pie in the oven and bake until the crust is golden and flaky.

reclaiming monday

We were seduced by taco night.

It's just - that taco filling is so good! And tacos are so easy! And we get two or three entire meals out of them! And did I mention how good they are? So good. But yesterday Daniel lamented, "We have been corrupted by tacos. I miss culinary adventures already."

Which is how we wound up reclaiming Monday.



It wasn't exactly something we set out to do. We were at the supermarket, hoping to find all the ingredients for our meal, since even though we discussed it we did not have a back-up plan - and the next thing you know, Monday night feels like the weekend. The bottle of wine helped with that, but it was also simply the attitude with which we approached the evening.



It wound up being a really good night: we made delicious food (which I promise I will tell you about in a second), drank some okay wine, took a short walk, and hung out until midnight! On a weeknight! I know, we are pretty crazy.

So, this food. The recipe we started from called it pasta alfredo, but let's face it. This dish is delicious, and vegan, and also not fettuccine alfredo. I think it might actually be better than most of the fettuccine alfredo I've had, because it involves way more interesting ingredients. Some of which, granted, are kind of weird and may take a little snooping around in your supermarket to find. (A hint: nutritional yeast can be found in the bulk aisle of Whole Foods.)

It was so good that I went back for seconds while Daniel was finishing up his first bowl. I kind of want some right now, just writing about it. The weird ingredients are worth it, trust me. Make this. It is super easy and so g.d. delicious.



Fettuccine in Bianca
adapted slightly from here

1 c. rice milk
1/3 c. raw unsalted cashews
1/4 c. nutritional yeast
3 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp margarine
1 tbsp tahini (heaping)
1 tbsp lemon juice
1/2 tsp paprika
a couple shakes of nutmeg
a couple cloves of garlic

Add all the ingredients to a blender. Blend until smooth. Done.

Prepare some fettuccine. Drain. Put back in the pot you used to cook the noodles. Pour the sauce over. Use medium heat and cook until warm.

We also added some broccoli, which was the right decision.

pumpkin gnocchi

October is here, and that means sweater weather and pumpkin dishes. (You know, like, pumpkin cheesecake...mmm.)

I'm not sure where the idea for pumpkin gnocchi came from, exactly, but once it did, I sort of fixated on it. Which was a problem, seeing as I couldn't find pumpkin puree in the stores and didn't want to mash up a pumpkin on my own. So we had taco night. Problem solved!



...Except that I was still fixated. I wanted to make that pumpkin gnocchi. Pumpkin was finally found in the store, a big 29-oz. can of it, but it still took us a while to actually get around to make it. (There was a pretty awesome home-made General Tso's stir fry in there, too, but my contribution to that was really just chopping.) But make it we did, and then we gobbled it right up.



Pumpkin Gnocchi with Sage Butter Sauce
adapted from here

15 oz. pumpkin puree
2 3/4 c. all-purpose flour
dash of nutmeg
dash of cayenne pepper
salt and pepper
1/3 c. melted (vegan, in this case) butter
about 7 minced sage leaves
3 cloves garlic, minced

Combine the pumpkin, flour, nutmeg, cayenne, salt, and pepper, until everything is incorporated. Take about a handful of the dough and, on a lightly floured surface, roll it into a rope about an inch in diameter. Cut the rope into pieces about an inch wide.

Get some lightly salted water boiling in a large pot. When they are ready, pop the gnocchi into the water. As they cook, prepare the sauce by melting the butter in a small pot. Add in the sage and the garlic; let simmer for a bit.

The gnocchi will be ready when the float at the top of the boiling water. Remove promptly and mix with the butter. Serve - with parmesan if you're not vegan!

a big claim

Sometimes it's hard to tell a story; here, on this blog, usually because it boils down to "Danielle and Daniel hang out and make delicious food," and while I enjoy that story, I feel like I've told it many times.

So let's begin somewhere else: taco night. Taco night has always been one of my favorite nights, and aside from ordering tacos at local chains, I haven't had one in a long time. Becca and I talked about it once, I seem to remember, but it never came to fruition. I thought about just having one myself, but taco nights are not really a solo activity.


Dear reader, I actually wanted to be telling you about pumpkin gnocchi right now, but alas and alack, the supermarket was out of pumpkin puree (and I really didn't want to go through the effort of pureeing my own pumpkin). There we were, in the supermarket, trying to figure out what to do for a delicious dinner.

We finally wound up in the Mexican food section, deciding on tacos, and gathered our ingredients. Later, in the kitchen, Daniel asked if I wanted to take pictures, "in case you want to blog about it." I didn't think I would be here telling you about tacos. I mean, they're just tacos, right? Wrong. In this case. The filling for these tacos surpassed my wildest expectations, as well as - I know this is a big claim - any previous taco nights.


Seriously. It was that good. Because we made a huge batch, a second taco night needed to be arranged. Immediately. (It's tomorrow. What a good birth-week!)

Daniel's Amazing Taco Filling

1 package veggie "beef" crumbles
1 can refried black beans
1 bell pepper
1/2 white onion
about 1/2 can chipotle peppers
a couple cloves of garlic

First, chop up the bell pepper, onion, and garlic. You'll want fairly small pieces so that they incorporate into the filling. You can chop the chipotle peppers now, too, but you'll want to throw in some of their juices once you start mixing everything together.

Next, pour some oil into a pot that will be able to contain all the ingredients. Start by browning the "beef" crumbles slightly, then add the onion and the bell pepper. When the onion and bell pepper are almost done, add in the chipotle peppers and the garlic. After a minute or two, add in the refried beans. Cook until hot.

Now all you have to do is grab your other taco condiments (we used salsa, guacamole, and both regular and vegan cheese) and you're ready to make your tacos! Yum.

starting to change

Change is on my mind a lot, lately. It's autumn, first of all, so even though the forecast for tomorrow is 90F (ugh), the breeze is still cool and the leaves are starting to change. Autumn is a good season for change, after all - but then again, what season isn't?

There are plenty of changes happening within my circle of friends, but the one that concerns this post is really Daniel's veganism. See, I have long had plans for making ice cream. These plans have never really come into fruition for one reason or another (usually my own laziness, let's be honest) - and technically they still haven't.

I found the recipe below on a blog I read regularly, and promptly sent it to Daniel, figuring he'd be interested in it. And he was, along with the suggestion that around this we create an elaborate vegan meal. This meal was to include plantain empanadas with refried beans, chipotle mashed potatoes, and some sort of stir fry.



Well, dear readers, there's a reason you're not reading about any of those today. I mean, they were all fine - and the latter two were certainly very spicy - but the empanadas, which were the most complicated, aren't really worth the complications. They basically caused Daniel and I to swear off baking with plantains, especially after they nearly destroyed my (tiny, granted) food processor and actually destroyed one of my spatulas with the frying.

(Note: the chipotle mashed potatoes were pretty awesome. To make these, simply make mashed potatoes and then stir in as much of a can of chipotle peppers as you'd like. Easy!)



The dessert, though - that turned out pretty much perfectly. Granted, it is a little weird: all the flavors go together, but the fact that it's frozen is just, well, weird. Don't let that stop you from trying this, however, because it's still quite tasty!

Avocado Ice Cream

Recipe

a funny bias

Last week, Daniel asked me if I could bake a cake for Jo's birthday party. Which, you know, is not a huge deal. I could bake a cake in my sleep. But then he asked if it could involve sweet potatoes.

This was a surprising request, because, well, I had no idea that cakes could involve sweet potatoes. A quick google search told me that yes, that is a thing. Daniel even went so far as to provide a recipe, which was vegan. (Daniel's new-found veganism might mean you will see more vegan recipes on here. It might not. Y'all know how much I love butter.)


There is a funny bias against vegan baked goods. By and large this is changing, with the popularity of places like Babycakes up in New York, but it still exists. People don't expect vegan baked goods to be delicious and moist like non-vegan baked goods.

So I was nervous. I've never baked consciously vegan before (though now I have a label for any vegan goodies on here [note: some of the items on that page do have butter, but as it's for sauteing, you can substitute for olive oil]), on top of which I always get nervous when I bake something new. And on top of all of that, I was bringing this to a party where many people I did not know would be partaking of this baked good.


All my nerves, as usual, were for naught. I iced and decorated the cake (okay, that part I was actually excited about) and jerry-rigged a carrying case out of a plate and tin foil. When I unveiled it, before most of the guests arrived, those in attendance seemed impressed with just the description of what it was. Once the cake was cut and served, people incredulously asked, you made this? The most impressive victory was over those who are most certainly not-vegan; John Paul noted that usually vegan baked goods are dry and not-so-good, but this was moist and delicious.

So there you have it. This is a vegan cake to win over non-vegans. It's a little bit more work than I usually like in a cake, but it's worth it, especially if you want to be able to serve those of your friends who don't partake of dairy.



Sweet Potato Cake with Almond Milk Icing
adapted heavily from here

for the cake
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/4 cups sugar
3 tbsp baking powder
2 tsp cinnamon
1 1/2 tsp ginger
3/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
1 (15 oz.) can sweet potato puree OR 2 medium sweet potatoes
1 cup water
1/4 cup vegetable oil (I used canola)
2 tbsp apple cider vinegar
2 tsp vanilla

for the icing
2/3 cup margarine
4 cups powdered sugar
1/4 cup almond milk
2 tsp vanilla


If you, like me, cannot find sweet potato puree and are using sweet potatoes, chop them up in fairly small pieces, bring some water to boil in a large pot, and let them sit in there until they fall apart effortlessly.

While that is happening, or if you were lucky enough to find a can of puree, mix together in a large bowl the dry ingredients: flour, sugar, baking powder, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, and salt.

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

When the potatoes are falling apart, beat them into a puree, either by hand or with a mixer (because I was short on time, I used a mixer). Add the wet ingredients to the mix: puree, water, oil, apple cider vinegar, and vanilla. Stir well and divide the batter between two cake pans. I used nine-inch pans, but feel free to use whatever you have, depending on the type of cake you want.

Bake for about 30 minutes, or until a toothpick/knife comes out clean. I allowed my cakes to cool overnight, but they need to be completely cool before you ice them. The original recipe recommends 15 minutes in the pan, then 10 minutes on a wire rack.

For the icing, beat the margarine with a mixer for about 30 seconds, then add in the milk. Feel free to add the vanilla at this point; the recipe calls for 2 teaspoons, but I just eyeballed it. While mixing, slowly add in the powdered sugar. Please note that you might not need all 4 cups of powdered sugar. I only measured out three and barely used all of it. How much you use depends on what consistency you want as well as how sweet you would like the icing to be.

Now for the tricky part: creating the layers. Using a large knife, slice the top off of one of the cakes. This will make the cake more solid and steady, which you will appreciate later, trust me. An illustration:


Once you've done that, spread the icing on the top of the bottom layer. Carefully place the other layer on top, and continue icing. Decorate if you'd like, or serve and enjoy!

still unaware

It's been a year, dear readers!

Well, just about, anyway. A year ago tomorrow I made my very first post here. I had just started getting into cooking, still unaware of the hold it would get on me. I had no idea how much I would love kneading dough and pouring batter. I had no idea I would read a book on cooking ratios in a night.


A year ago I never imagined Daniel and I would be cooking fancy meals together, much less that we would go into the supermarket and buy what we needed with our good looks. I mean, that we would go into the supermarket without a plan, and make up a menu as we went.

It started with that pinnacle of spring produce, asparagus, to which we added a variety of colorful bell peppers. Dessert also came together in the produce section; first we thought dessert should just be a simple bowl of fruit. Me being me, of course, I saw little dessert cups and got inspired.


I've been wanting to cook with rhubarb, the darling of food bloggers everywhere, for some time. We had already grabbed some strawberries, so, really, how could I resist the pinkish stalks of rhubarb? I had no plan, just the knowledge that strawberry-rhubarb is a classic combination.

We kept everything a secret from our fellow diners until serving time, so forgive me if, um, I keep some secrets for a little bit. (Though my pictures may give it away.)

My favorite high school teacher, Doc, once told our AP Language class that "every meal is a communion." He was talking about literature, of course, and how everything an author chooses to include in the narrative should have importance - hence every meal being shown having the importance of Communion. The same is true in life, though, or at least has the possibility to be true.


It took a while for me to get from that statement to actually preparing and eating a homemade meal with friends (though college potlucks came close, even with their boxed macaroni and cheese). And let's face it, friends are why I do this. I don't imagine that any more than a few readers are people I don't know. But there are only a few people I'm able to cook and bake for, because of distance, so this is a nice way to share my newfound love of baking with them, too.

Don't get me wrong, our entire meal was not homemade. We bought local, fresh pasta and tweaked some of Newman's Bombolina sauce to go with it. (We made it spicier, obviously.) I did not make the ice cream - though that's on my list of things to challenge myself with. That's not the point. The point is making delicious food and sharing it with friends.


Asparagus with Peppers, Cumin, and Cayenne

There aren't a lot of amounts here, I know, and that's partially because Daniel made this (and isn't online to chat about how much he used) and partially because a lot of this is to taste. For instance, we are really serious about garlic. I think I minced half a head of garlic.

1 bunch asparagus
3 bell peppers (red, orange, yellow)
butter
garlic
cumin, to taste
cayenne, to taste

Chop all of the asparagus in half, making sure to also cut off the ends. Then chop all of the peppers into comparable slices. Mince garlic - as much as you want!

Start sauteeing the asparagus in butter. After a few minutes, add in the bell peppers. When the vegetables are nearly done, throw in the garlic and season to taste. Keep sauteeing for a few minutes more.



Rhubarb Compote
cribbed from Bon Appetit

You could eat this plain and I'm sure it would be good, but really, you owe it to yourself to pour it over some vanilla ice cream. It's kind of perfect. I've also seen similar dishes with ricotta cheese or yogurt. But really, who can pass up ice cream?

1/2 lb rhubarb
1/4 c sugar
1 tbsp butter
1 tbsp vanilla extract

Cut the rhubarb into 1/2-inch slices or chunks. Toss in a saucepan with the sugar. Add butter and vanilla. Stir over medium heat until sugar dissolves, then cover and let simmer until rhubarb is tender. (Don't forget to stir occasionally while it simmers.) Transfer to a bowl and chill for about 2 hours.

Serves 4 perfectly, when served over ice cream.

The Nectar of the Gods

Danielle is out of town today, and she's asked me to fill in for her. I plan to revolutionize this blog with my single post! Observe, as I capitalize the title of my post! Cower, as I...

Okay, all I can really think to revolutionize is the capitalization of titles thing. I guess Danielle's blog is already pretty rad.

I want to talk to you about a special passion of mine. I learned a very important lesson at a very young age, one that I still hold as sacred truth today: There is just no substitute for pure maple syrup. If you are still putting some kind of syrup on your pancakes/waffles/french toast/whatever that is not pure maple syrup, you are making a major breakfast error. This is not just an opinion. Pure maple syrup is less processed than most other syrups. It's less processed than most other sweeteners, even. It's also more delicious. Okay, that last part may just be an opinion.

While there is no substitute for pure maple syrup, pure maple syrup can be a fantastic substitute for all sorts of other sweeteners. It brings a unique flavor all its own to anything you might otherwise flavor with sugar, honey, or agave nectar. Try it in your tea. Use it in your granola recipe. Put it on Danielle's french fries recipe from last week! Admittedly, my passion for maple syrup might run a little higher than yours.

Here's a favorite of mine, enhanced by the subtle deliciousness of maple syrup:

Peanut Maple Dipping Sauce (Or stir fry sauce)

This is ridiculously easy. We're really just going to take all the ingredients and mix them until the result is spectacular. Taste as you go. Quantities are approximated, and individual tastes should be catered to in terms of the sweetness, spiciness, and garlickyness. All of these are real words.

Mix the following in a bowl:

4 heaping tbsp of peanut butter (Preferably fresh ground, chunky, and unsweetened. You can get this in plastic tubs at most health food stores.)

2 tbsp pure maple syrup (The word pure is very important. If it doesn't say pure, it's probably not as delicious.)

2 tbsp hot sauce (I use Sriracha, but anything similar should be fine. If you've got a favorite, give it a shot.)

2 tbsp soy sauce (I don't really need to add a note here, but I have for every other ingredient, and I didn't want soy sauce to feel left out. Oh, I've got one! You can read about how soy sauce adds umami to a dish on Alex's bog here!)

2 cloves of garlic (I always just mix fresh garlic right into the sauce. You could cook it some, but that would make it both less delicious and less good for you. Garlic is really a miracle food.)

Now there's really just one more step. Add vegetable stock if you have it, or a little water if you don't, until the consistency is a little thinner. You could add a little sesame oil or something similar, but I usually don't. You want the end result to look something like this:

Now you've got a variety of options! You can dip things in it; I recommend dumplings, kebabs, or anything that typically comes on a stick. You could also make a stir fry with it, which is what I did. I was pretty happy with how this batch turned out, though I probably would have gone spicier. My friends will tell you that this is unsurprising. Some might even express their opinion that I cannot taste the things I make because I make them way too spicy. They are wrong about that.

If you try my dipping sauce and think of any fantastic ways to improve it, please let me know! Recipes should always be viewed as a work in progress.

head-over-heels

Have I ever mentioned my deep and abiding love? ...Don't worry, I'm not about to trick you into reading some soppy Valentine's story about true love or anything like that. Not for a person, at least - this deep and abiding love is for the potato. Now, granted, I can trace my roots clear back to Ireland, so a love for potatoes is basically genetically guaranteed, but still.

Let it be said: I am head-over-heels for potatoes.

When I was younger, my favorite way to eat them was either mashed or baked and slathered with butter and ranch dressing. (Though the latter did not come about until I was in high school; potato skins weirded me out before then. I know I've mentioned I was a picky eater. It knew no bounds.) And, of course, French fries.


There was a point in my tenure at high school when my mother would pick me up from school every day, we would go through the drive-thru at McDonald's, and I would get fries. I would empty them into the bag, sprinkle them with more salt, and eat them from the bag. There is something about the specific combination of starch, grease, and salt that is absolutely irresistable. I remember one of the only cravings I got while I was abroad was for fries - though it wound up being sated later at a McDonald's near the train terminal in Rome. (The other was, unsurprisingly, cinnamon rolls.)

I won't get into any of the arguments against McDonald's - you've heard them all before, at this point, I'm sure - but part of the reason they have such wild success is that they hit on that key combination. I've since stopped eating at McDonald's, but even now I will still get wild cravings for French fries that are, for the most part, unable to be filled. Sure, every so often I will get them at a bar, but it's not like I am able (or willing) to go to a bar every time I want French fries.


So it's a good thing they're super-easy to make. I may have eaten about three-potatoes-worth of French fries over the weekend. They're also delicious.

French Fries
adapted from The Naptime Chef

I split up the fries and did three different toppings - cayenne pepper, shredded cheddar, and grated parmesan. They were all super-delicious, though I think I prefer the ones with cheese. I guess I'll have to keep experimenting. Darn.

2 potatoes
3 tbsp olive oil
1 1/2 tbsp kosher salt
(a couple dashes cayenne pepper)
(cheddar cheese, shredded)
(grated parmesan cheese)

Make sure the potatoes are clean. Slice down the longest side of each potato, about as thick as you want your fries to be. (These are best a little thicker, though, to be honest.) Cut each slice along the longest side again to make the fries.

Preheat the oven to 400°F.

Place the strips in a pot full of water and bring to a boil. Cook for about 10 minutes; they should be tender. While the potatoes are boiling, pour the olive oil and salt into a bowl. Line a baking sheet with tin foil. When the potatoes are done, drain and pat dry with a paper towel. Toss them in with the oil and salt until covered.

Line the fries on the baking sheet. If there's any leftover oil in the bowl, pour that over the potatoes. If you're adding cayenne, go ahead and sprinkle some over the fries.

Bake for 40 minutes. If you're adding cheese, pull out the fries and sprinkle the cheese on them, then bake for another 5 minutes. These are best hot-out-of-the-oven. Enjoy!

balancing the scales

Tomorrow I turn 23.

I turn 23 and all I can think about is balancing the scales. Balancing what pays the bills with what I love, balancing solitude with being social. It's the latter that really gets me. You see, I love time spent alone and doing things simply because they are what I want to do. As I've mentioned before, though, too much time spent alone drives me a little mad.


This weekend wound up being pretty well-balanced, though Saturday was the unfortunate witness to the first hangover I've had in a long while. Other than that, it broke down nicely, with a dance party celebrating my dear friend Andy's 23rd birthday - plus, uh, lots of Doctor Who beforehand and also the next day (we really can't get enough). And then Sunday was for me. I just woke up Sunday morning and it felt right to have the day stretching out in front of me with no one but myself.

I've been planning this post for a while, actually, even though I had no idea what I'd put into it. Sunday, I decided, was the day to figure it out. I had eggs to use, so I made a cake, one I've made before and liked a lot. After all, it's my birthday! And you can't have a birthday without cake. While I made the cake - literally in between mixing eggs in - I made an apron out of a t-shirt. This still left me without a recipe for you, dear reader.

Let me tell you: I couldn't get bread out of my head. I had been about to trot over to the grocery store for the second time in one day to get olive oil and yeast to make said bread, but then it was raining. I decided against it; surely I would find something else to make.


Dear reader, I did not. The weather cleared up and, unable to stop thinking about bread, I headed out. Luckily I bought two packets of yeast, because I had to throw the first batch out and start again. (I always seem to be starting again.) All my mistakes turned out auspicious - ain't that always the way - because let me tell you, this bread is just hands-down delicious. I have had to stop myself from eating all of it in less than 24 hours. Plus, it photographs quite well, don't you think?


Olive Oil Focaccia
Adapted from Joy of Cooking

If, for some reason, you do not like olive oil that much, feel free to cut the amount of olive oil down to 1 tablespoon. This is a pretty forgiving recipe - I thought I was screwing something up every step of the way and wound up with a fantastically delicious bread, so don't worry if it seems like your dough is too sticky, or not rising high enough, or any of that. I thought all of this and, again, the bread turned out great.

3/4 cup warm water
1/2 pack active-dry yeast
1 3/4 cup all-purpose flour
2 tbsp olive oil
1 tbsp salt
1 tbsp sugar
1 tsp oregano

Combine the yeast and water in a large bowl. Let sit while the yeast dissolves, should be about five minutes. (If you've never watched yeast work, check this out. It's pretty neat! Chemistry-art, if you will.)

Mix in flour, olive oil, salt, and sugar for about a minute - I used a wooden spoon, but do whatever feels best to you. (If you're using a mixer, it'd be best to use low speed.) Then knead by hand (or use a dough hook) for just about 10 minutes.

Lightly oil a bowl and transfer dough, making sure the oil covers all of the dough. Cover with cloth and let rise for 1 and 1/2 hours.

Preheat oven to 400°F.

When the dough has risen, transfer to baking sheet, shaping it into a round. Top with oregano (or other dried herb). Bake for 25 minutes. Let cool for 20 minutes. Enjoy!

returned

Well, dear reader, I am back.

I'm not sure I would even be back now if not for my dear friend Daniel, who said to me last week, "Let's make dinner together sometime this weekend!" So we tossed around a couple ideas, like pasta with pesto and sun-dried tomatoes, except I dismissed it as not quite complicated enough. I know, I know, I haven't cooked anything more complicated than boxed macaroni in the past two weeks, and I'm complaining that making pesto isn't complicated enough. Humans are funny creatures, what can I say?


We decided on Alex and Lindsey's honey broasted tofu, with red bell pepper and onion. You should probably go make this meal right now, actually, because it is that good. We pretty much followed the recipe there, except we let it marinate for a little bit while the potatoes were baking (and we used white wine instead of sherry). And the potatoes are actually what I'm here to tell you about, but I really can't pass up an opportunity to talk about how good that tofu was. It was amazing. I was tempted to go back for thirds, which never happens.


So, anyway, the potatoes. Daniel, you may remember, was one of the reasons I even started experimenting in cooking, and has himself been cooking for quite some time now. This is pretty beneficial to me, as I get to eat a lot of this food, but it also means he's really into experimenting with different combinations of food. And so, without further ado...


Daniel's Identity Crisis Potatoes

These came entirely from Daniel's brain box, though let me tell you, the name seems pretty fitting for my mental state the past few weeks. But that's neither here nor there. These potatoes are fairly simple to make, and maybe the most delicious way to eat potatoes I've tried yet.

1 Russet potato
1 sweet potato
brown sugar
garlic
parmesan cheese
butter
olive oil

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Roll the Russet potato in olive oil and salt, and the sweet potato in olive oil and brown sugar. Bake for about an hour and fifteen minutes, or until the skins start to be crispy* and a fork passes through cleanly. Take them out of the oven and turn the heat up to 450°F.

Scoop out the insides of each potato into separate bowls, leaving the skins as intact as possible. Mash the Russet potato with garlic, parmesan, and butter (to your taste), and the sweet potato with butter and brown sugar (again, to your taste). Here is where the "identity crisis" part of these potatoes comes in: scoop the Russet potato mash into the sweet potato skin, and the sweet potato mash into the Russet skin. I know, it sounds crazy.

Put the potatoes back in the oven for about twenty minutes. Serve!

* Daniel tells me the sweet potato skin was not as crispy as he would have liked, but I can assure you this does not affect how delicious it was.