home.

This semester I'm in a class called "Visions of the Future," in which we're talking about some different ideas about what the future will hold. Mostly we'll focus on those visions that are informed by some countercultural perspective, perhaps feminist or queer or postcolonial. But for this week our professor simply asked us to write a vignette describing a sliver of our vision of the future--what we dream or hope the future will be. Because I don't have a picture or dish to post quite yet and I enjoyed writing this, I thought I'd put it up here. Of course, it always comes back to food, and feeding each other.

People from all over town trickle in to the church, tired enough from their walks that they will relish a good meal, but awake and healthy enough that they are as excited to see each other—to hug, to talk, to catch up—as they are to eat. Everyone has brought a little something to share, perhaps a loaf of bread, or carrots from their garden, or a bottle of wine if it’s been a good week. We put down our food and begin to set the table, and no one, not even new people, has to stand around awkwardly waiting for someone to talk to. No one has to ask how to help because it is so clear that this is what we do next. When the tables are set and the candles are lit we all sit down together. Anywhere is fine; there is no wrangling for seats or concern about sitting next to someone I don’t particularly like (or someone who doesn’t particularly like me). We all have a place at the table, and it’s not one that’s been assigned. Perhaps it is chosen for us, but we also choose it.

The meal begins without ceremony or prayer because we know the meal is our prayer. We pass around what we’ve brought without worrying if it’s fancy enough or fresh enough or enough. We do not worry that giving away some of what we have will cause us to run out. We simply provide for each other when need be out of an understanding that nothing we have is ours alone. We eat and drink our fill, then get to the work of clearing plates and wrapping up leftovers and washing dishes together. And we linger, never quite ready to leave this home for another.

 There's my vision of the future. What's yours?

the perfect summer dessert

Summer always makes me eat just a little bit healthier, particularly when it comes to the end of a meal. The rest of the year you can always count on me to choose a chocolate dessert (usually a giant brownie) when I have the option, but when the thermometer starts topping out at 90+ degrees, I switch gears and go for something a tad lighter. Don't get me wrong; I don't want just fruit for dessert--let's not get crazy--but a side of fruit with my ice cream is a nice touch.

There are so many fruit desserts out there: cobblers, pies, crumbles, brown betties, crisps, slumps (yes, that's a thing). Who can keep up? I think I've tasted them all at least once, but I couldn't tell you the difference if I tried. No matter now, though, because I've found the perfect summer dessert. Like most of my favorite recipes, it's infinitely adaptable--replace the pistachios with almonds and the grapes with cherries, or go for peanuts and strawberries--whatever you have around, really. The great thing about roasting fruit is that it actually does better when it's a day or two past its prime, so feel free to make this when you bought one basket of peaches too many and you just can't finish them before they go soft.

If you're in charge of dessert for a 4th of July celebration, I promise people will love this. If they don't, you can complain to me...and please send along the leftovers.

goat cheese tart with roasted grapes & pistachio crust
adapted from food & wine
makes one 9-inch tart, 8-10 servings

ingredients:
1/2 c shelled pistachios
1 stick unsalted butter at room temperature
1/2 c sugar
1/2 tsp almond extract
1/2 tsp salt
1 1/4 c all-purpose flour
3 c red seedless grapes
1 tbsp olive oil
1/4 tsp kosher salt
8 oz soft goat cheese at room temperature
2 1/2 c Greek yogurt (whole milk or 2%)
Juice and zest of one lemon
1/2 c powdered sugar
1/4 c honey
whipped cream to top (optional)

instructions:
Make the pistachio crust: pulse pistachios in a food processor until finely ground. Beat butter and sugar on medium speed until pale, about one minute. Add ground pistachios, almond extract, and salt, and beat until combined. Add flour and beat on low speed until incorporated and the dough is crumbly.

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees. Scrape the dough into a fluted 9-inch tart pan with a removable bottom. (A pie pan also works fine if that's all you have.) Using the bottom of a glass, press dough into the pan so the bottom and sides are of relatively equal thickness. Prick the dough all over with a fork, then bake until fragrant and golden brown, 40-45 minutes. Transfer to a rack and let cool.

Meanwhile, roast the grapes. Turn your oven up to 400, and toss grapes with olive oil and kosher salt. Roast until grapes are softened and have begun to caramelize, 20-25 minutes. Transfer to a rack and let cool.

By now your crust should be relatively cool, so go ahead and make the tart filling. Beat goat cheese, yogurt, and lemon juice and zest in a medium bowl on medium speed until combined. Add powdered sugar and beat until smooth. Scrape the filling into the crust, and top with cooled roasted grapes (make sure you get all of the delicious olive oil-grape juice syrup on there, too!). Refrigerate for at least two hours or as long as overnight.

Just before serving, heat the honey in a small saucepan over medium-high heat until it begins to boil. (Food & Wine recommends getting it to 236 degrees, but I don't think you have to get that particular). Pour the warm honey over the tart and let it soak in for about 5 minutes. Cut into slices and serve.(You'll need a pretty serious knife for this...the crust is pretty substantial.) I topped each slice with a dollop of thyme-infused whipped cream, and it was absolutely perfect.

homemade ginger ale

For a long time I didn't think I liked ginger. I liked ginger ale (which, let's be honest, often tastes nothing like actual ginger), but at our house we never ate anything with ginger in it so I stayed away from it until I went to college. I only found out I liked the "real" taste of ginger when I tried it pickled along with sushi, another food I didn't try until college. (Shockingly, sushi wasn't readily available in Bamberg, South Carolina.)

After discovering I actually liked the taste of ginger I continued to drink, say, Canada Dry, but I also wanted to find a more gingery ginger ale. I tried Blenheim and it certainly tastes like real ginger, but it also has a cough-inducing kick to it that doesn't exactly scream "refreshment." So I went back to the standard supermarket varieties until recently, when I realized I could make my own.

For my birthday this year my sister, who is pretty much the best gift giver on earth, sent me a SodaStream along with a very thoughtful Pinterest board of soda and cocktail recipes to go along with it. For the past few months I've just been making seltzer water, but I'm a big cocktail fan during the summer, and since I'm not in school I have the time to make things like homemade soda. I gave it a shot and the results were well worth the minimal effort.

This recipe for ginger syrup also comes with a nice perk--you end up with candied ginger along with the syrup! Once you've strained the ginger and spices out of the syrup, toss the candied ginger (it's just been boiled in syrup, after all) with sugar and let it sit out for a few hours to dry. Voila--crystallized ginger!

ginger syrup for ginger ale
adapted from FormerChef
makes about 3 cups of syrup, enough for about 9 liters of ginger ale (don't worry, it keeps for awhile!)

ingredients:
1 c brown sugar
1 c white sugar (or raw sugar, if you prefer)
2 c water
2 tsp cardamom pods
1 tsp whole allspice
1 tsp peppercorns
3 star anise pods
4 oz peeled and sliced ginger, about 3/4 c

instructions:
Stir together the brown and white sugars and water in a small pot. Toast the whole spices in a skillet until they begin to brown; remove from heat. Add the spices and ginger to the sugar-water mixture and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Once the mixture boils, turn it down to a simmer and let simmer for about 15 minutes. Remove from heat and let steep until mixture cools. Pour into jars and refrigerate.

To make ginger ale, use about 1.5 tbsp syrup per cup of seltzer. The syrup will keep in the fridge for at least a month, and I've read that if you add a bit of vodka to it it will keep indefinitely.

This will vastly improve any ginger ale-based drink you want to make. The buck, your basic ginger + spirit (e.g., gin buck, whiskey buck, tequila buck) is a good place to start. Here are a few other cocktails to try your new concoction in:

- bourbon & ginger: bourbon + ginger
   ale + peach
- pear haymaker: vodka + ginger ale +
   lemon juice + pear
- the operator: white wine + ginger ale +
   lime juice
- tequila grapefruit splash: grapefruit
   juice + ginger ale + tequila +
   Campari + triple sec