good fruitcake (really)

The holidays are pretty different for my family this year. I spent Thanksgiving with my boyfriend Schuyler's family, my first one away from my parents and sister. In October my sister had twins--a boy and a girl!--so we're moving Christmas 200 miles west, from Bamberg to Atlanta. This will be my first Christmas outside of my hometown.

If you know me, you probably know I don't handle change gracefully, or graciously. I like routine, tradition, predictability. But when I reflect for just a moment on the change I've seen this year, I can't help but feel grateful for it. We're welcoming new, healthy, beautiful members to our family (the babies and Schuyler, although I suppose he's not so new to the world as a whole). It feels more like the beginning of a new chapter than the end of anything...although of course it's both.

Perhaps in response to this newness, I've gotten awful nostalgic in my holiday food choices. I baked three pecan pies over Thanksgiving. I made my grandmother's fudge to send to a secret Santa, even thought it turns out her secret recipe is on the back of the Kraft marshmallow creme jar.

And yes, I made fruitcake.

I didn't grow up eating much fruitcake, but every Christmas a brick of it sat on my grandmother's washing machine. (Her washing machine was in her kitchen, for reasons yet unknown.) Fruitcake never held the appeal of fudge. It's not exactly a kid-oriented dessert, what with all the dried fruit and liquor. Now, however, that sounds perfect. Fiber and alcohol in one dessert? Sign me up! Also, I found out last week that if you use real dried fruit as opposed to that day-glo green and red jellied stuff, it actually tastes pretty good. Sort of like alcoholic trail mix, but much better than I made that sound.

If you're feeling a little nostalgic over the holidays, this just might do the trick. If nothing else, everyone knows fruitcake is the classic re-gift.

good fruitcake
adapted from King Arthur Flour
makes one 9"x5" loaf, 6 to 8 mini loaves, or 1.5 dozen muffin-sized cakes

ingredients:
fruit:
3 1/2 cups diced mixed dried fruit (I used cranberries, golden raisins, pineapple, and figs)
3/4 cup whiskey, rum, brandy, apple juice, or cranberry juice (I used whiskey)

batter:
1/2 c (8 tbsp) butter
1 c (15 oz) dark brown sugar
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/8 tsp ground allspice
1/8 tsp ground nutmeg
1/2 tsp baking powder
2 large eggs
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tbsp cocoa (optional, for color)
2 tbsp dark corn syrup
1/4 c apple juice, cranberry juice or water
1 c chopped, toasted nuts (I used almonds, pecans, and walnuts)

instructions:

To prepare the fruit: Combine the fruit with the liquid of your choice in a non-reactive bowl; cover and let rest overnight. Too impatient to wait until tomorrow? Microwave everything for 1 minute (or until it's very hot), cover, and let rest 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 300°. Lightly grease your pan(s).

To make the batter: Place the the butter and sugar in a large bowl, and beat together until well combined. Beat in the salt, spices, and baking powder. Beat in the eggs one at a time, scraping the bowl after each addition.

In a separate bowl whisk together the flour and cocoa. Add the flour mixture and the syrup to the mixture in the bowl, beating gently to combine.

Stir in the juice or water, then the fruit with any collected liquid. Scrape the bottom and sides of the bowl, and stir until everything is well combined. Spoon the batter into the pans, filling them about 3/4 full.

Bake the cakes on the middle shelf of the oven, as follows: 50-60 minutes for the individual cakes; 60 to 70 minutes for the small loaves; and approximately 2 hours for the 9"x5" loaf. The cakes are done when a cake tester inserted into the center comes out clean.

Remove the cakes from the oven, and brush them with liquor or liqueur of your choice, simple syrup, or flavored simple syrup. When the cakes are completely cool, wrap them tightly in plastic wrap, and store at room temperature for up to 6 to 8 weeks (how good they are after 8 weeks is yet undetermined).

might as well bake a cake.

I think it's safe to say that as I write this, almost everyone I know is in a place that is really, really cold. According to my omniscient iPhone, in Nashville it's 16, in Charleston 32, in Atlanta 19, and in Bamberg 30 (and on top of that it's hailing there). So, I win the coldest place contest, but to be honest it's not a victory I want to claim.

I don't know about you, but when it's cold (read: under 50 degrees) all I want to do is wrap myself in a blanket, read novels, eat carbs, and drink wine. (I hate how much that sounds like the start of a chick lit novel, but I suppose mass marketing gets you somewhere.)

Anyway, since "read The Witness of Preaching" and "write a paper about theology and suffering" are not on the list of things I want to do, I figured I'd put them off by writing something about a cake that I made before Christmas. This is no ordinary cake. I asked for a cookbook specifically because of this cake. It's quite the project, more like two desserts in one, as it involves peeling and poaching pears on top of making batter and a glaze. So, what I'm really saying is that it's the perfect project for a snow day. If you're stuck inside, why not make something beautiful and delicious?

A couple of small but important notes: 1) make sure you poach the pears until they feel tender enough that you think you could eat them easily with a fork. I didn't poach mine long enough and this made the cake a bit difficult to eat without a knife; 2) if you don't want a huge cake, you can cut this recipe in half and make it in a loaf pan, which is how it was originally written.

cardamom cake with whole pears & white chocolate
adapted from homemade winter, by Yvette Van Boven
serves 16-20

ingredients:
for pears:
6 medium crisp, firm pears, peeled but whole, with stems left on
1 (750-ml) bottle dry white wine
2 1/2 c sugar
8 whole cloves
6 star anise
16 cardamom pods
4 cinnamon sticks

for cake:
1 lb (4 sticks) butter, softened
2 c sugar
8 eggs
3 c self-rising flour
2 tbsp ground cardamom
1/4 tsp salt
6 oz white chocolate, cut into chunks

instructions:
Poach the pears: in a large saucepan, combine the pears, wine, 2 1/2 c sugar, cloves, star anise, cardamom, and cinnamon and poach for 30 minutes over low heat, or until you can easily pierce the pears with a fork.

Take the pears out of the poaching liquid and set them aside to cool. Add 2 1/2 c water to the poaching liquid, turn to medium-high, and boil to reduce the liquid by half. (Watch this carefully so you don't burn it--which is what I did!) Let cool.

Make the cake: preheat the oven to 350. Using a mixer on medium speed, beat the butter and sugar in a large bowl until creamy. Beat in the eggs one at a time.

Sift the flour, cardamom, and salt over the batter and gently fold it in with a spatula.

Grease a large tube pan, and spoon the batter into the pan. Press the pears into the batter, stem ends up. Bake for 60-70 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted into the cake comes out clean.

Allow cake to cool in the pan, then gently remove it to cool completely on a wire rack. (You might want to find a helper for this part--you have to flip it twice to make it right side up, and it can be tricky to hold this massive cake with one hand without breaking off the pear stems...or just breaking the cake! But I have faith in you.)

Melt the white chocolate: set a heatproof bowl over a pan of simmering water, and stir the chocolate in the bowl until melted. Using a spoon, drizzle the chocolate over the cake.

Let the chocolate dry for a bit before serving the cake in thick slices, with the reduced pear syrup poured on top.

pie time for a party.

When I first came to divinity school, I wanted to keep throwing dinner parties like I did in Charleston, but there was just one small problem: I didn't have an income to pay for these parties. My mom suggested that I start a potluck supper club, which I did, and it was fun the first 3 or 4 times we did it, but most people's enthusiasm waned much more quickly than mine. Unless you really like to cook, committing to doing that once every two weeks just doesn't sound like that much fun.

Two years later and I'm trying again. This time I actually know some people in Nashville (which tends to happen when you've lived somewhere for two years), and I put out an open call on Facebook asking who was interested in joining. We had our first supper on Friday, and it was wonderful. Everyone brought amazing food--Senegalese peanut stew, butternut squash, rosemary, and goat cheese flatbread; and salted beer crescent rolls, to name a few--and several of our friends stayed for 3 or 4 hours just talking, laughing, and drinking the wide variety of pumpkin beer people brought. It was basically my dream come true.

Who knows if this iteration of the supper club will last, but I'm pretty sure I'll keep trying to make these happen as long as I live. There's just nothing I would rather do with my time than enjoy good food with good people.

Anyway, about what I brought to the party: When I was a kid, we used to have this savory pie at least 2 or 3 times a year, usually when we were in the middle of a "cold" snap (i.e., under 50 degrees). It's a magical dish, the epitome of warmth and comfort, but I hadn't made it in years. I'm not sure what reminded me of it, but as soon as I thought about it I knew I had to make it. I just ate the last leftover piece for supper tonight, and I already want to make it again. In fact, it was so good that every time I cut myself a slice I forgot to take a picture until I had already eaten a couple of bites. I promise, it tastes better than these pictures make it look.

A few notes: Feel free to substitute 1 lb. regular sausage + 1 tsp red pepper flakes if you don't have hot sausage. It's not spicy either way, but omit the red pepper if you don't want any spice at all. You can also use any frozen greens here in place of the spinach, or cook/drain about 32 oz (2 lbs) fresh greens to replace the frozen. Unless you happen to have fresh greens on hand, because you're mixing this with so many other ingredients I would stick with the frozen variety. Also, you can certainly use a pre-made refrigerated pie crust, but I think the flavor and flakiness of this recipe make it worth the effort.

cheesy spinach, mushroom, and sausage pie
serves 8

ingredients:
1 lb hot sausage
3 cloves garlic, minced
1 lb mushrooms, sliced
2 10-oz packages frozen spinach, thawed and drained
7 eggs
2 c grated mozzarella
16 oz ricotta or cottage cheese
2 tbsp grated Parmesan cheese
1 tsp kosher salt
2 prepared pie crusts

instructions:
Preheat oven to 350. In a large saute pan over medium-high heat, brown sausage with garlic; drain. In the same pan, brown the mushrooms; remove from heat.

In a very large bowl, beat 6 of the eggs, and beat yolk of remaining egg with 2 tbsp water; reserve egg white. Add sausage, mushrooms, cheeses, and salt to 6 beaten eggs and mix until combined (you may want to use your hands for this).

Roll out one layer of pie crush into a greased 9-inch deep dish pie pan and brush crust with egg white. Spoon filling into the crust and top with remaining layer of pie crust. Press edges together and crimp to seal. Cut a few slits in the top to allow steam to escape, and brush top layer with the egg yolk-water mixture.

Bake for an hour and a half to two hours, until the crust is golden brown and a knife inserted into the center comes out hot. Let cool for 15-20 minutes before serving.

a recipe to share

Have you ever had an experience that totally turned you upside down, that reminded you what's important? Of course you have; everyone has. (So I hope.) I visited my friend Cara in Austin last week for my fall break, and it helped me remember what matters, what brings meaning to our lives: human connection. That may sound trite or overly sentimental, but I don't mind so much. It's still true.

After 72 waking hours in Austin (but who's counting?), on Saturday I came home to Nashville, back to the realities of school, work, and a routine. It felt a bit like a crash back into normal life, but at least I can hold on to a few things: memories, a lesson or two, new sources of hope. It also helped that I came home to friends, and even better, shared three dinners in a row with them.

I wish I could share everything about my trip with you all (or most of it, anyway). For now, though, I can only offer a great recipe to enjoy with others. This recipe for Hungarian goulash, a beef stew, is a childhood favorite of mine. No, I'm not Hungarian, but when I was growing up my mom made it all the time. It's easy, humble, comforting, and delicious. This recipe makes way more than one person could eat alone, so share it with people you love.

hungarian goulash
adapted from williams-sonoma essentials of slow cooking
serves 4-6

ingredients:
1 tbsp vegetable oil

it photographs humbly as well.

1 1/2 - 2 lbs beef chuck, cut into 1-inch pieces
2 yellow onions, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbsp sweet paprika
1 tsp caraway seeds
1 tsp dried oregano
2 tbsp tomato paste
1 quart reduced-sodium beef broth
1 14-oz can diced tomatoes
1 bell pepper, chopped
3 medium red potatoes, diced
3 medium carrots, chopped
Sour cream (optional)

instructions:
In a large frying pan over medium-high heat, warm the oil.  Meanwhile, season the beef with salt and pepper. Add the beef to the pan and brown on all sides, 5-7 minutes (you may have to work in batches to ensure that the beef browns rather than steams). Remove the beef from the pan and place in a large slow cooker.

Add the onions to the pan and cook until softened, 3-5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for 1 minute more. Stir in the paprika, caraway seeds, oregano, tomato paste, and broth, and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and pour into the slow cooker over the beef. Add the canned tomatoes and their juice and stir to combine.

Cover and cook until the beef is tender, about 6 hours on the low-heat setting. Uncover and stir in the bell pepper, potatoes, and carrots, and re-cover. Turn the slow cooker to high and cook until the potatoes are tender, 2 1/2 - 3 hours longer.

Season to taste with salt and pepper and serve with sour cream, if desired. Crusty bread is a nice addition as well.

happy (almost) thanksgiving!

the only tg picture i could find on my computer.

I cannot wait for Thanksgiving. Christmas certainly has its charms, and I'm excited to start singing carols, wrapping presents, and looking for snow (that's a pre-Christmas possibility in Nashville!), but Thanksgiving has a special place in my heart. It's not just that food takes center stage, although I certainly enjoy that. I just love the whole idea behind it:  the devotion of a full day to gratitude. 

Also, I can't write this post without mentioning that I have a special ancestral tie to this holiday. My mother's side is descended from Stephen Hopkins, one of the passengers on the Mayflower and thus a participant in the first Thanksgiving in Plymouth. My grandmother, forever the Bostonian, never let a Thanksgiving pass without reading aloud to us "The Women of the Mayflower," an essay on, you guessed it, the women of the Mayflower. As a chubby five-year-old, I didn't quite see the value in delaying supper to hear a history lesson, but of course now I look back on the tradition with fondness. I am amazed at how vividly I remember sitting on one of my parent's laps on that ugly green couch, half-listening, half-daydreaming about pecan pie.

Anyway, that's a long enough trip down memory lane. Twenty years later (!), our family has both shrunk and grown, we have Thanksgiving at the beach with a substantially smaller crowd, and we have a copy of Grandma's essay to read to ourselves. Thanksgiving is still my favorite holiday, though, and I want to share with you what we're planning to make this year. Some of these recipes we've had before, and some of them are variations on family favorites. I'm also using this to highlight some of my go-to recipe websites and sources (although most of them have already made appearances on here).

This is a pretty traditional menu with a few twists. We've never been much for changing it up on Thanksgiving, and although I'm all for culinary creativity, on this holiday I like to take the familiar route. Maybe this will provide a little inspiration for your menu or prompt you to share some of your favorite Thanksgiving memories or dishes. Regardless, I hope that you have as much to give thanks for as I do.

a thanksgiving menu
for snacking and drinking:
   the modern relish tray (The Kitchn)
   cocktail suggestions (Cooking Light)
   beer pairings (Saveur)
   wine pairings (food52)
sides (the best part!):
   beet salad with chevre and walnuts (Williams-Sonoma)
   cranberry-pepper jelly (Bon Appetit)
   summer squash casserole, aka "Sarah's foot casserole," but that's another story. 
      (Southern Living)
   spicy roasted green beans with bacon candy (Tasting Table)
   creamy mashed potatoes (Cook's Country) and gravy (just wing it...get it?)
   golden-crusted brussels sprouts (Serious Eats)
   spicy creamed onions (Saveur)
   cornbread and sausage stuffing - my favorite! (Cook's Illustrated)
mains:
   herb-roasted turkey breast (Ina Garten)
   maple-glazed ham (Real Simple)
desserts:
   pumpkin-praline pie (Cook's Country)
   sorghum pecan pie (The Lee Bros.)

Happy Thanksgiving!

apple-cardamom upside down cake

A year ago, I wouldn't have recognized the flavor of cardamom. I had unknowingly tasted it before in Indian dishes and maybe a Scandinavian-influenced sweet or two, but I certainly would not have been able to pin it down. It's slightly floral (but not in a potpourri kind of way), earthy, with a little bit of black peppery kick. In this recipe it's combined with cinnamon, ginger, and cloves, so you're not smacked in the face with cardamom flavor. Thus, it's a good introduction to the spice if you're not sure you'd like it on its own.

A few notes on potential adjustments to the recipe:  next time, I think I'll up the whole-wheat/oat flour ratio to half of the flour (3/4 c white, 3/4 c whole grain). I might even add some whole oats; the substantial amount of spices in the cake can support a heartier texture. Also, you could reduce the sugar a bit, to maybe a cup or so, since the caramelized top already bring the sweetness factor up a notch. A few spoonfuls of honey in place of some of the sugar would be nice as well. Oh, and maybe some toasted walnuts or pecans on the bottom with the apples! (This is the first time I made this, so bear with me.)

In short, you could do a lot with this recipe to make it totally yours. I think it's pretty forgiving, considering I accidentally used baking soda instead of baking powder and then just added some cream of tartar to make up for it, and it still tasted great.

apple-cardamom upside down cake
adapted from the kitchn 
12 servings
per serving:  285.5 cal, 8.4g fat, 54.9g carb, 1.8g fiber, 2.9g protein, 8+ weight watchers

ingredients:
8 tbsp salted butter, divided
1/2 c dark brown sugar
3 medium apples
1 c all-purpose flour
1/2 c whole wheat or oat flour (or a combination)
1 tsp cinnamon, plus extra to sprinkle over apples
1/2 tsp cloves
1/2 tsp ginger
1 tsp cardamom
1/2 tsp salt
3/4 c milk
3 eggs
1 1/2 c sugar

instructions:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Melt 6 tbsp of the butter in a small saucepan and add the brown sugar. Let bubble for a couple of minutes, then pour into 12 x 8" pan (13x9" would probably be fine, too; your cake will just be a little thin). Keep the saucepan out; you'll use it again.

Peel, core, and slice the apples, and lay them flat over the butter-brown sugar mixture in the pan. Sprinkle with cinnamon. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the flours, spices, salt, and baking powder. Warm milk and remaining butter in saucepan over low heat until the butter melts. Meanwhile, beat the eggs until they are thick and pale, 3 to 5 minutes. Add sugar and beat 5 minutes more. Add flour mixture and milk, and stir until the batter is smooth. Pour batter into pan.

Bake at 350 for about 40 minutes, or until a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Let cool for 10-15 minutes, then invert onto serving platter. If having for dessert, serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream.

uh-oh, this piece fell apart. guess I have to eat it!

an unseasonable salad

There was a time back in the dead of winter (which in Charleston translates to temperatures consistently in the fifties) when I ate brussels sprouts at least three times a week. I roasted them, sauteed them, put them on pizzas and in omelets. To my surprise I liked them raw as well as cooked, and a salad I found on food52 became a regular menu item for me. I talked about this salad A LOT, as anyone who spent more than 10 minutes with me during that period can attest.

But the bounty of spring and summer made me forget about the miniature cabbages that had served me so well in January and February. I moved on to salads of baby lettuces, tomatoes, peppers, and sweet corn. Brussels sprouts left my life as suddenly as they had appeared.

Then, this Sunday I saw a tiny basket of them at The Vegetable Bin, my favorite source for produce in Charleston. I took all of them. I made my winter salad again. I'm not ashamed to say I licked the bowl.

brussels sprouts salad
adapted from food52
4 small servings, or 2 large
per large serving:  238.5 cal, 16.3g fat, 21.1g carb, 4.1g fiber, 6.2g protein, 7+ weight watchers

This is a very flexible recipe. You can use whatever cheese you want, or omit it altogether for a vegan version. I've replaced the cheese with nutritional yeast with some success. The salad could also easily be turned into a light main dish by adding some protein; chickpeas work perfectly.

ingredients:
1/4 lb brussels sprouts (about 12 large),
   trimmed and sliced thinly
2 ribs celery, diced
2 c arugula, chopped
1/4 c dried cranberries
1/4 c crumbled feta
2 tbsp chopped toasted walnuts
juice of half a lemon (about 1 tbsp)
2 tsp oil of your choice (I used
   grapeseed)
salt and crushed red pepper, to taste

instructions:
It's a salad. Toss all ingredients together and serve! 

beets: a love(/hate) story

I always think I love beets. They make any dish more beautiful with their deep magenta color and jewel-like sheen. But when I'm honest with myself, I realize that beets are my food version of a "small dose" friend:  fun with a group for a night out, but too much of them and I want to gag. (Sorry if that's a little too graphic and/or mean; I promise no one who is reading this falls into that category of friend!)

just look at them...anyone would be tempted!

So, of course I bought a giant bunch of beets at the market on Saturday, and now I have to eat all of them. Last night I roasted a few, and I'm looking for different things to do with them that aren't totally beet-centric. Today for lunch I made this sandwich, and it was everything I could ask for:  crunchy and melty, sweet and savory, comforting and refreshing.

So, if you find yourself with an extra beet or six, give it a shot.

open-faced beet and brie melt
serves one, but is easily multiplied
no nutrition facts for this one...it's too imprecise.

ingredients:
hard roll, or sandwich-sized
   section of baguette
1 small beet, roasted*
1 ounce brie
a few toasted chopped
   walnuts
1 leaf lettuce
a few leaves of fresh basil
red wine vinegar, to taste
salt and pepper, to taste

instructions:
Set broiler on high. Cut roll in half and beets and brie into thin slices. Top each half of roll with beets and brie, and broil until cheese is melted and brown in spots. Remove from oven and top with walnuts, lettuce, basil, vinegar, and salt and pepper.

Tell me this isn't delicious, whether you love beets or not.

* I like to peel my beets when they're raw, wrap them individually in foil, and roast them in a 425-degree oven. Depending on their size, it takes 45-60 minutes to get them to fork-tender stage.