lavender shortbread

there's a great essay by andre aciman called "lavender" that traces the scent throughout his personal history. it's in those "best american essay" collections that one of us feels really ambivalent about. but i think this particular one david foster wallace edited, and both of us are pro-that.

if one of us had to write a similar essay, she would write it about ginger. she drank ginger ale with breakfast and sometimes instead of breakfast for years; she was sick a lot as a little kid and had it then, too. her favorite stir fries (and for years she could only cook stir fries) contain ginger. she's not a binger, but she can binge on ginger, and she kind of likes how it hurts. she ate a box of ginger altoids a day while lifeguarding the summer after college; she can eat an entire bag of crystallized ginger in one sitting. there's ginger tea and gingerbread and oh, also whiskey ginger ice cream. that too. dark and stormys in maine during the summer on the rocks in front of her house. much like one of us, ginger's got a lot of personality and can sometimes be a little harsh and has to restrain itself not to bulldozer the rest of the room.

shoup, what would yours be?

anyway here is a JSTOR link to the first part of the essay. it's way more moving and less precious than you'd think. so is this recipe for lavender shortbread. it's obviously really good with tea in the afternoon, but i could also see you making a mean ice cream sandwich with some rosemary honey ice cream in it.



lavender shortbread:

1 1/2 cups pastry flour (yes, all purpose is totally fine)
1/2 cup rice flour (my next post will also use rice flour; it deserves its own post. shoup, do you cook with rice flour?)
1 cup softened butter
1/2 cup white sugar
1/4 t salt
1 t vanilla extract
1-2 T dried lavender (available at any good spice store. i get mine at whole foods).

sift flour together and set aside. in your kitchenaid apple green stand mixer, if you have one, cream butter, sugar, salt, and vanilla until it's all fluffy. mix in the flour by hand, then the lavender. you don't want to overwork it. kind of like a pie crust in that way.

now, here's where i cheat. with shortbread you're supposed to refrigerate and then roll it out and make cutouts, but i do not have the patience to refrigerate dough, plus i would eat it all because i am trying to write this essay about ginger. so i just roll balls and then squish then in my hands until they're about 1/4 inch thick.

bake at 325 for 20 minutes until golden brown on the edges.

Mashed Sunchokes (as requested by Sara)

You thought we were gone! You thought we were too busy canoodling and pontificating about the emerging art scene in Detroit and reading Deleuze and drinking firewater! But fear not, dear readers, we are here with our kitties and we missed you very, very much.

One of us is Swedish.
One of us is Italian, but you probably think she is Jewish.
She is eating a 3 Musketeers Bar and is really excited to tell you about sunchokes, AKA, Jerusalem Artichokes, which despite their names, are also not Jewish. But like her, they probably wish that they were.

Did you know that when you go to Google Image search and type in Jerusalem, Jerusalem Artichoke is the third entry? Did you also know that the Jerusalem Artichoke, in addition to not being a native of Jerusalem, is also not an artichoke? It is the tuber of the sunflower.

See? You know this guy:










And now you'll know how to cook this guy:










The skin is very thin, but you must remove it. This is arduous. You won't like doing it. You might get lazy and not get all the skin off. That's fine. Unless you're working for Daniel Boulud, who will kill you with his laser eyes. Probably the sunchokes will be very dirty when you buy them, so you must also wash them thoroughly. Then you must boil them in salted water until you can easily stick a fork through them. Then you will mash them. I prefer to use ye olde Cuisinart for this. I mash them with some butter, roasted garlic (or, failing that, garlic that you caramelized in some olive oil, or, failing that, minced garlic), salt, pepper, milk or cream (which you can cut with stock if you like), and low fat sour cream. Ratios are up to you, depending on how thick you want your mash. When they are done I like to mix in some dill and tarragon, but you don't have to (but you should). They have a wonderful, earthy (but not too) flavor. Sometimes I will roast some parsnips beforehand and throw them in with the JA's during the mashing. They are a delightful accompaniment to any protein or with a melange of other veggies. I just wanted to say melange. Good night.

Chickpeas & Procrastination, via Nina The Person

as you know, dear readers, one of us lives with Mr. Pie the Cat and one of us lives with Nina the Cat.
one of us also has a friend known around the internet as Nina the Person.

Nina the Person is a wonderful chef.
she shared this recipe with me, and i'm sharing it with you. i editorialize in the parentheticals. that sounds like a rap lyric or something.

ingredients:
3 tbs olive oil
1 large onion chopped
4 crushed garlic cloves
1/2 tsp tumeric
1 1/2 cup soaked chick peas
3 tbsp each chopped cilantro and parsley

methodology:
- fry onions in oil. you want to get them nice and soft. (i would probably add in some butter.)
- add garlic cloves
- stir in tumeric and add drained chick peas and cover with 2/14 cups water (i bet you could also use a mixture of stock and water)
- simmer for an hour and a half or till the beans are super tender. add salt and pepper when they have softened. you can add extra water if they get too dry. you want the liquid to reduce to a thick sauce at the end. then stir in herbs and cook for 5 mins more.

Nina the Person says the quality of the tumeric is crucial. if you live in New Yawk you can get some great stuff in my hood at Kalustyans. if you live in Chicago i used to go to a great Middle Eastern food store with Rich in Andersonville, but i don't remember the name. if you live in another place, you can go somewhere there.

be not afraid of cauliflower, or, so you like potatoes, right?

cauliflower, in all its mid-butchering, pre-roasted glory.


one of us is gay and has a mother named gay.
this same mother got really into the great potato scare of the early aughts, aka, the atkins diet.
while her daughter was wise enough to recognize that a diet that eschews fruit and vegetables for peanut butter and bacon is probably wack, she definitely started to see the glory of alternate starches. roasted cauliflower is just one of these. it takes the place of roasted potatoes quite deliciously (to be clear: i love potatoes too), and it's also a nice addition to an antipasto plate.

step 1: butchering the cauliflower.
you need to flip the cauliflower over and pick off the leaves. then you must take a sharp knife and cut out the stem/core. see the stem? stick the knife in parallel, you'll want it to go in about halfway into the head of cauli. cut around the stem, with the knife angled inward slightly. remove the stem/core. this is tough and not that flavorful. then pull apart the head into smaller pieces. you may then choose to cut them into even smaller pieces. NinaThePerson, I believe, likes to slice the cauli very thin. i am too lazy to do this usually, but the smaller the pieces, the better the caramelizing effect.

step 2: flava.
unless i slice it thin, i put the pieces of cauli right into a 1 1/2" or 2" deep roasting dish. i coat it in olive oil or a mixture of olive and hazelnut oil. if i have sliced it thin, it's best to lay it flat on a greased baking sheet and then drizzle with olive oil. you need a lot of oil. now for the flava! i like to use a hearty mixture of salt, pepper, curry powder, garam masal, and a little smoked, sweet paprika. however, you can also do salt, pepper and garlic powder. just mix this in with the oiled up pieces or sprinkle over the slices. if you go this route, please sprinkle the cauli with grated cheese at the end of the roasting process. you should feel free about experimenting with other flavors too. readers, please post if you have alternate ideas!

step 3: roast the hell out of it.
place the cauli into a 375 degree oven. roast it for about an hour, unless you sliced thin, then you need less time. check it after 20 minutes. you want it to get nice and golden brown, not burnt, so i make sure the rack is in the middle of the oven, maybe a wee bit higher.

step 4: eat it!
take the cauli out and serve it up. guests will be delighted. while i enjoy raw and steamed cauliflower too, a lot of people have traumatic childhood memories thereof. these people are often shocked by the effects of roasting on the cauliflower.

this photo is of some roasted cauli with cheese and sauteed scallions.



Maddy says yum.

christopher walken cooks for you!

one of us has made a boldfaced claim about white rice and my enjoyment thereof.
one of us has lost her slippers and is distraught.
both of us think you will enjoy this cooking video.

without further adieu, christopher walken shows you how to make chicken with caramelized pears:

stir fry as extension of self

one of us worked at a hippie craft collective in maine as a prep cook and baker for a few summers in college, where she learned how to make the best stir fry on earth. even better than all the permutations of stir fry she had in western china. this would probably be her last meal, with a six pack of wheat beer and coffee ice cream for dessert.

i identify with this stir fry, even more than my mac 'n cheese. it is somehow part of me-- colorful, deceptively simple, seemingly healthy, but with hidden hits of sugar. part hippie, part yuppie, part hipster. kind of totally square, only not at all.

ingredients:
* lee kum lee vegetarian stir fry sauce-- this stuff is magical
* extra firm tofu
* red onion
* sesame oil
* broccoli
* ginger (either powdered ginger, copious amounts, or the ginger people brand ginger juice, which should be its own entry)

preheat oven to 400. pour a bunch of sesame oil on the bottom of a baking dish. cut up your tofu into bite sized pieces and lay them on top of the oil. cover the tofu with about half a cup of the lklvsfs (it's mostly a mushroom flavor, but do NOT substitute. thnx), then a bunch of ginger. i mean a lot. 1/3 bottle of the sauce, or 2 tablespoons of dry ginger. trust me. i am a professional at this recipe. throw the mess in the oven and bake for half an hour or until you can't stand it anymore. it should be bubbly and smell amazing.

meanwhile, simply saute your red onion, chopped, in some sesame oil. when it's done, throw the florets of broccoli in the pan, turn the heat off, cover, and let steam.

mix it all together in the saute pan and serve over whatever you want. one of us likes buckwheat soba. the other would do it over white rice, wouldn't you, shoup?

we will miss dennis hopper

He would show you his map.
There is your domain.
is it the domicile it looks to be
or simply a_retinal block
of seats in,... See More
he will flip the phrase
the theater of impatience.
If if is where you are,
the footstep in the flat above
in a foreign land
or any shimmer the city
sends you
the prompt sounds
of a metropolitan nearness
he will unroll the map of locations.
- from book one of gunslinger by edward dorn which one of us read in hopper's honor today.

we both really like dennis hopper. one of us has cited moments in which dennis hopper can't keep a straight face in movies as her favorite cinematic phenomenon ever.

and today we learned that dennis hopper is both getting divorced and dying. it seems clear he's getting the divorce put through to get his estate in order.

dennis hopper makes art, mostly photographs. i think they are just okay. the other one of us probably has a more nuanced appreciation of them.

we think dennis hopper's favorite foods probably were cheeseburgers, real caeser salads, coque au vin, and pussy.

we will miss dennis hopper not being able to keep a straight face in movies.