Things that are making me happy these days

Fig 1.  Strawberry season.  In this case, strawberries with piping hot oatmeal and brown sugar.

Fig 2.  Bright bright bright morning sun.

Back soon with many many new recipes.

Cook once, eat twice: Chinese dumplings and fried rice

It's cocoon-busting time around here at Darby O'Shea. Sure, January 1 was the beginning of the new year and September is really the beginning of the new School Year, but January 25 is the beginning of the new Semester. I've been holed up for the last few weeks, all but hiding from the world and recharging before things get started next week.

The break between semesters has been lovely as just that, a break, from everything. I've been reading trashy novels (and good ones), watching movies, hanging out with the pup, and trying to pull myself out of the lingering end-of-semester and holiday coma - too much food, too many people, too much laziness for too long.As it is, I haven't been lazy about cooking, as such, but I have been exceedingly lazy about recording what I've cooked, how I've cooked it, and what it looked like. In the effort to shake off work-related laziness and get back in the swing of things, here we go.

We had my dear friend Liz (home from school for a break) and her other half, Mike, over last weekend and I got all excited about showing off some wild cooking. I settled on a menu of salt-crusted Bronzini (that's a story for another day), roasted veggies with a sweet and spicy glaze, and Chinese dumplings as a starter. As soon as I saw the recipe for these dumplings in my latest issue of Fine Cooking, I knew I had (HAD) to try them.

The dough didn't come together *exactly* like the recipe said it would (in fact, it was a mess, but that could be due to my poor effort at precision), but it worked in the end. I started with the mound/well of flour and discovered that not only was it a little difficult, but I didn't have enough water. I put the flaky badness in a bowl and very aggressively forced some more water into the dough. After some frustrated kneading and letting the dough rest for the prescribed thirty minutes, I was pleased to see that it looked more or less like it was supposed to. The cutting and rolling of the dough went surprisingly well and proved to be a lot of fun with all four of us pitching in (even the boys, who aren't especially enthusiastic about kitchen matters, but who ended up up to their elbows in flour just like me).The filling I came up with was an amalgamation of the suggested fillings from the magazine. A little of this, a little of that, and the result was a tangy, hearty, delicious lump of joy wrapped up in tender, elastic dough. Combined with the soy dipping sauce recommended by the magazine, this was one of the most satisfying recipes I've ever tried.

The dough recipe is here and there are also videos showing how it's done. We followed the instructions for pan frying the dumplings, which was delicious. Highly recommend. Here's my filling recipe:
Pork and Shiitake Dumpling Filling

• 1 lb. ground pork
• 8 shiitake mushrooms, stems discarded and sliced thinly
• 6 oz. spinach
• 3 medium scallions, thinly sliced
• 3 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 2 T Mirin (I couldn't find the recommended Shoaxing)
• 1 1/2 T grated ginger
• 1 T soy sauce
• 2 t toasted Asian sesame oil
• 1/2 t sugar
• pepper

1. Combine 2 T water and the sugar to a boil in a skillet over high heat. Add the spinach and cook until wilted (about a minute). When the spinach is cool, squeeze the excess liquid from the leaves and chop finely.
2. Mix the pork with the garlic, Mirin (or Shoaxing), ginger, soy sauce, sesame oil, and pepper.
3. Add mushrooms and spinach to pork mixture and combine well.
4. Chill filling mixture in the fridge for at least 30 minutes.

In my effort to Cook once and Eat twice, I used the cup or so of leftover dumpling filling to make a delicious pork fried rice (a rather brilliant suggestion from Liz). Here's a recipe.

Pork Dumpling Fried Rice

• 1 c cold rice, preferably cooked the day before (I use brown)
  
• 1 c leftover pork and shiitake dumpling filling
• 2 scallions, finely chopped
• 1 carrot, quartered lengthwise and sliced
• 1 green pepper, roughly chopped
• 1 white onion, chopped
• 1 egg, beaten
• leftover soy-scallion dipping sauce (or plain soy sauce to taste)

1. In a hot wok or large pan, heat vegetable oil, then saute pork dumpling filling until no longer pink.
2. Add onion, pepper, carrot, and scallions to pork filling, saute until vegetables begin to brown.
3. Add rice and saute all ingredients until everything browns and begins to crisp.
4. Make a well in the middle of the pan and add the beaten egg to the middle of the pan. Stir as it begins to scramble. Before it sets completely, stir into the rice. Cook until egg is completely cooked through and begins to brown.
5. Just before serving, add the soy-scallion sauce to taste. Thoroughly incorporate, stirring constantly to avoid burning.

2010, with a bang

Bear with me, this is going to be a long one.

Another new year, and so many new projects I want to undertake. Being still in school, the January to January calendar doesn't mean a whole lot to me. However, I like the chance at a second chance, midway through the academic year. As you may have noticed, I like taking stock and making grand plans - regardless of whether I live up to them or not.

This year, I find myself in an interesting position, both professionally and personally. In my work-life, I'm at the beginning of the big crazy research phase, and am in the process of hacking, warrior-like, into that hulking monolith of work. In my free time, I have finally harnessed some excess energy to be creative again. This is a welcome change and has both lifted my mood and given me a steady sense of accomplishment I haven't had in a long time. To take nothing and make something beautiful of it is a particular kind of excitement. (If only I could muster that kind of excitement for my research!)And, as you all know, cooking holds a similar position in my life these days. I've become enamored of the ingredients, the subtle, but flexible chemistry of combining them to create fluffy, puffed, creamy, or dense textures. The play of spice against sweetness against salt and soft textures against crunchy ones. And this blog has gone from a hodge-podge of more or less private thoughts to a much more public exploration of the things that fire my passions. It's been very exciting, making this little place grow and meeting a few of you readers as a result.Anyway, enough navel gazing.

This year, I'm going to try a few new things: I'm going to bring in more non-food photography. I may write about non-food things as well, if anything moves me to. On the food side, I'm going to look in some new directions. It turns out that I'm very very interested in heritage recipes - lost recipes, old recipes, recipes that aren't written down. After all, I'm always plumbing my own personal history, looking for recipes, finding anecdotes that associate with whatever I've just cooked. Part of that impulse surely comes from a Proustian search for the half-remembered, but unnamed taste of something from childhood, but part of it comes from a more academic interest in things past. Anyway, I've started rather aggressively buying old cookbooks and while I was home I spend a few hours copying recipes out of the old church cookbooks (bless you, United Methodist Women everywhere).
The other thing I'm going to do this year is bake more. I'm mystified by the way in which flour, eggs, and butter come together and make so many different textures and flavors and shapes. As well as baking more regularly, I'm going to do a monthly cake feature with recipes new and old.

And the bang that I mentioned at the top was the first of the cakes: A Chocolate Little Layer Cake. I was inspired by the New York Times's article a few weeks ago about cake culture in Alabama. While the writer's style (as is so often the case with Yankee papers visiting the South) was a little condescending and leaning heavily on the exotic, the stuff of the article was very familiar and homey to me. I don't come from The South (or at least not that far South), but I grew up surrounded by those ladies. Granted, in my particular corner of the not-south, they all had German names and maybe made more pies than cakes, but the competition, the battle for bragging rights, the preposterous quantities of baked goods, all hit quite close to home.

And coming, as I feel like I do, from that tradition, I am not to be outdone. So I baked the biggest and most ridiculous of those cakes, the 15 layer behemoth of the Little Layer Cake.It wasn't easy. Oh, it wasn't hard to make the batter (which was airy, fluffy, soft and beautiful - easily the nicest cake batter I've ever made), bake it (though juggling the hot pans was difficult), and make the icing (oh, it almost boiled over, but that doesn't count), but assembling it (Those little layers are about 1/4 inch thick and fall apart if you LOOK at them, much less try to flip them out of the pan, move them, and ice them while they're still warm.) to be anything better than hideous took time, nerve, and a little patchwork (ten layers in I had two major craters developing around the edges of the cake and I had to sacrifice a layer in order to patch them). The end result wasn't beautiful, but it was delicious and intimidating enough to make its point. Do not mess with this baker, it growled from its cake stand, too precarious to shout. This baker has no fear. This baker will eat you for breakfast.I particularly recommend this recipe for gatherings of more than ten people. Otherwise you'll have leftovers longer than you should. I should think it would also be good if you're having a new Southern mother-in-law over to dinner or looking to deeply impress someone equally important. Or, you know, for a Tuesday, because this cake, as well as being over-the-top and showy, is delicious! The layers are spongy and not too sweet, while the icing sets up to be something resembling fudge. Slicing the cake produces a little cracking feeling not unlike cracking a creme brulee (although the icing is not nearly as strong as that caramelized crust) and I've found little that will parallel the joy of smooshing crumbs of the cake into the icing that cracks off onto the plate. Oh, yes, it's a good cake.

Tips from my experience with this recipe, which I did not adapt at all.

1. Do your best to spread the cake batter evenly on the bottom of your pans. It does not spread out and you will end up with holes in your layers if you miss spots. This becomes very difficult after you've baked one set of layers and your pans are hot.
2. Use a bigger pot than you think you'll need for the boiled icing. It expands when it's boiling and has the potential for enormous mess.
3. When assembling the layers, move quickly, with confidence, and try to line up the layers as precisely as you can.
   
4. When icing the cake, be sure to completely coat all the layers. If you use too little icing, the layers won't adhere properly and you'll end up with big gaps around the edges.
5. When icing the sides of the cake, the method I found most successful (as the edges are quite fragile) was to pour the icing over the top and drag the pools from the bottom up the sides. Don't think that you'll be able to spread icing around the sides. You won't.
6. Don't worry about the number of layers you end up with. I ended up with 13 (I think), even though the recipe supposedly produced 12. The lady who provided the recipe ends up with 15. I don't know how.

(Also, welcome to the new www.darbyoshea.com! We're all official now! Update your bookmarks! Thanks for sticking with me!)

Other resolutions this year:

• Project 365 - you can see what I'm up to every day over here.
• Also, obviously, lose thirty pounds and make a million dollars.
  

Fall Break

Yesterday, Dan and I and the Little Dog took our annual Fall trip out West to Northampton and environs. We were out for a little leaf-peeping, a little escapism, and a little taste of the Autumn That I'm Having a Hard Time Getting Used To (TM).
Fig. 1. Leaves were peeped. Though I didn't get any really spectacular photos of blazing trees or impressionistic hills, I think this fall is the most spectacular I've seen in a long time. I guess that's a good reason to be thankful for the cold snaps of the last couple weeks, yes? Fall always makes me all shades of nostalgic, and never more than when I'm taking the fall drive out to Northampton. There's this one rise in the road on the Pike near Brimfield that affords an amazing sloping view down into the valley as you come over the top of it. I know I don't live out there anymore and it's likely to be some time before I live out there again, but it always feels a little bit like coming home. There's simultaneously a drop in my stomach and a bubbly feeling of excitement that never fails to make me feel choked up. The same thing happens to me after turning onto 91 North, after passing the Holyoke Mall, when it starts to look more like Northampton. The view out across South Hadley just south of Mt. Tom is another spot, as is the first view of the Connecticut river, just before Exit 18. And the whole Pioneer Valley is speckled with spots that make me catch my breath and want to cry happily, and yet out of a sense of nostalgia for lost experiences and fading, but still warm memories.
Fig 2. Cider Donuts were consumed. These were still warm when I bought them. Still warm. It was the kind of day where there was a line waiting for the donuts to come out of the kitchen. Crispy on the outside, sugar and cinnamon crackling with each bite. Little puffs of cider-y steam. Divine. If anything tastes like fall, it's these donuts. We enjoyed them with a half gallon of cider that we drank from the jug. A perfect meal, all in all.
Fig. 3. Dan ate some donuts too.
Fig. 4. We drank delicious beers at the Northampton Brewery. I had an 8 ounce (very petite) Hoover's Porter, which was one of the finest beers that has ever passed my lips. Why, oh why don't they sell it in bottles?!Fig. 5. As we hit the road back home, we made a pitstop for a strawberry shake at the Whately Diner. This was another college haunt and definitely a place I wanted to share with Dan - he's also a big diner fan. The pink neon glow and the shiny metal of the diner's exterior is frozen in time, I think. It's fabulous, but still somehow unsettling. Dan said it seemed like an X-Files episode should have been happening around us. It's true. Places that stay static while the people who inhabit them (however temporarily) are uncanny. Places that change, although we expect them to stay the same, however, moreso.

More photos here.

Fun with Fuji Color

When I went to K and B's wedding a couple weeks ago, I decided to shoot some color film, which is something I hardly ever do, and have never done in the medium format clunker I was warming up. (My preeeecious Mamiya 645e.) The results? Very, very nice. The scanning does detract a little from the color, but I still think they're quite pretty.
Of course, it does help to have pretty things around to take photos of.

*All shot on 12 Fuji Velvia 100 or Provia 400 with my Mamiya 645e. The rest of them are here.

The Haul

Yes, they're scrawny and imperfect, but I grew them myself and I love them.Also, they'd better taste DAMN good, since they're clocking in at, oh, about $4,000 a pound.

Summer winding down

The last few days of Summer are still ahead of us, but with the semester (and teaching duties and looming research) starting next week, I find myself prematurely nostalgic. It seems like just minutes ago that it got warm and only a couple of weeks ago that I finished grading and put away my teaching persona for the year. But today I went and excavated my desk in preparation for another Fall and I can feel the last few minutes of freedom slipping away.

Unfortunately, the copious free time I granted myself this Summer is slipping away with the last few weeks of warm weather. And with that free time goes the time I've spent cooking and baking and developing film and scanning negatives and writing these blog posts. Doesn't mean I'm not coming back, though. It just means that the recipes will be more carefully chosen and the photos worth a few more than 1,000 words on average (hopefully).

This past weekend was the last big hurrah of the Summer, featuring my best friend's wedding to a lovely guy. I was busy doing bridesmaid duty, so I've no recipes to share. However, I appointed myself the unofficial photographer of the three days' events and took a few hundred photos. Here's a selection of the best ones. Hopefully a few more posts and recipes before work descends and it's all to-do lists and moaning about the waning afternoon light. Don't give up on me!

Plum perfect

Yesterday I found myself (after many failed efforts and near-misses) in the same place as a farmer's market at the right time. I had trekked over to campus to use the computer lab (to scan negatives - very exciting), only to find said lab to be closed for the rest of the summer. However! The Harvard Farmer's Market was just setting up and it seemed that everyone had harvested everything all at once this week. Tomatoes and dahlias and beans and lettuce and greens and squash and berries and peaches, oh my! I'm a lover of farmer's markets and let me tell you, this one was spectacular.
My haul: three adorable patty pan squash, a handful of heirloom tomatoes, some cherry tomatoes, a quart of plums, a pint of lovely, juicy intensely-flavored blueberries, and two heads of fresh lettuce (approximately the size of MY head). Luckily we were having my sister and her betrothed over for dinner or I'm afraid much of this would have gone to waste. Dinner ended up being 1) a big, big salad with lettuce, tomatoes, pepper, Spanish tuna (canned in olive oil!), and a little balsamic; 2) Pasta with a fresh batch of my own homemade pesto (now with garlic!); and 3) Two delicious clafoutis(es?) that I whipped up with the help of the decadent produce I brought home with me. I made blueberry (delicious) and plum (transcendent).
You all may remember that I had a dubious encounter with clafoutis before. I say dubious not because the result wasn't delicious or the recipe didn't work (in fact, Sweet Amandine's recipes never seem to fail), but because I was so uncertain of the whole process, not having eaten, seen, or heard of a clafoutis until very shortly before I made that one. My previous effort at this delicious dessert was tasty, but I like my desserts to have either a little more tooth or a little less substance. Alas, that clafoutis landed right in the textural middle ground that makes me so uneasy. I searched around and found another recipe that seemed promising and gave it a whirl. The results were spectacular.

Fresh fruit clafoutis (adapted from epicurious.com)

• fruit of your choosing (I used about 15 plums, halved and pitted for the plum one and about half a pint of blueberries for the blueberry one)
  
• 1 tablespoon plus 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon cornstarch (for each batch of fruit)
• 1/3 cup all purpose flour
• 1/4 cup almonds, toasted (I toasted mine in a pan on the stove as if they were pine nuts)
  
• 4 large eggs
• Pinch of salt
• 1 cup whole milk
• 1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, melted
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1/2 teaspoon almond extract (I used amaretto)
• Powdered sugar

1. Preheat oven to 325°F.
2. Generously butter two deep dish pie plates.
3. Combine the fruit, 1 tablespoon sugar and cornstarch in medium bowl; toss to coat.
4. Arrange the fruit in pie plates.
5. Blend the flour and almonds in food processor until the nuts are finely chopped (ideally until they almost disappear).
6. In another bowl, whisk the eggs, salt and remaining 1/2 cup sugar together.
7. Whisk in the flour and nut mixture.
8. Add milk, melted butter, vanilla extract, and amaretto; whisk until smooth.
9. Pour custard over fruit.
10. Bake clafoutis until set in center and golden on top, about 55 minutes.
11. Cool slightly. Sprinkle powdered sugar over and serve warm.

**Notes: The ground nuts in this recipe give it a really nice occasional crunch. Also, the (scant) leftovers made a delicious breakfast this morning.

**Warning: The original recipe purports to serve SIX people. There were four of us and we almost polished it off. Bear this in mind if you're inviting big eaters. Better yet: keep it ALL to yourself. You'll thank me.

Bad mood food

Sometimes it's really hard not to let the little shit get to you. Whether it's a quibble with a spouse or a sibling, creeping dread about much-procrastinated work, or an ongoing battle with various vermin (in my case: mice), it's just really hard sometimes to keep perspective. What do you do to bring yourself back to earth in these situations?

I turn to food in any kind of extreme mood (doesn't matter if it's euphoria, stress, or the depths of depression) - this explains the many, many pounds I gained during college and in the first couple years of grad school. I've been trying to think of something to eat that will refocus my excess energy in a positive direction, but all of my comfort foods are really just too warm to eat in this weather. (The ridiculous humidity and high temperatures of this week are contributing to my mood, no doubt.) So, what's a girl to do?

Looking in my fridge and taking stock of what I have handy, I note: mushrooms, corn, eggs, bacon, and not much else in the way of raw potential. Alas.

Corn chowder sounds delicious, but I don't have the requisite central air to make soup palatable in this weather. Corn fritters would really hit the spot - the thought of the creamy delicious insides and the crispy fried outside makes me weak in the knees, but the last thing I (or my dreadful summer skin - another thing to stress about given my upcoming bridesmaid duties) need is to stand over a pan of hot oil to make them. Succotash? Would be delicious, but no lima beans are handy. One thing's for sure - today is a day for waiting until it's dark to eat and maybe for eating on the roof.

...
What I discovered a few hours after writing the foregoing is that a few things can go a long way toward fixing that kind of pre-semester, late-Summer malaise: roof lounging (as suggested above) as the sun sets and the air begins to cool, corn on the cob, quiet conversation with my lovely husband, cuddle time with the sweet dog, and good, not-too-heavy/not-too-light black beans. Good hearty food and pretty determined relaxation. Oh, and a fan (recently brought back from Spain as a gift from my parents). I highly recommend all these things next time you find yourself in a snit. I'll get you started on the black beans. They're delicious.

Bad mood black beans

• dried black beans (I used about half a pound that I had left over)2 bay leaves
• about a liter of chicken broth (can be combined with water to taste OR veggie broth can be substituted)
• salt and pepper to taste
• spices of your choosing (I used ground cumin and some Ras al-hanout that was a gift from Morocco)
• bacon to taste (can be omitted)
• cheddar cheese to taste

1. Soak the black beans for at least an hour before cooking.
2. Heat a little olive oil in a pot. Add the bacon (chopped up) and cook until crispy. Add the (drained) beans and cover with broth.
3. Throw in whatever seasonings you want to use.
4. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and cover. Simmer until beans are tender and soup has thickened. You will need to stir often and add more broth/water to keep it from burning and to make sure the beans get sufficiently softened.
5. Once you're happy with the consistency (it can be soupier or thicker depending on your taste), turn off the heat and stir in the cheese (shredded works best).
6. Serve with couscous and with a dollop of sour cream on top.

So, what are your bad mood foods? Oh, and hello, Cape Town!

A taste of Southern Indiana

Every year in my home town they have this fundraiser for the American Heart Association called the Taste of Southern Indiana. It's just what you would expect: samples from all the local restaurants with a bunch of cardiologists on hand. While I can't give you a taste of all my favorite restaurants at homes (Jaya's, Jimmy Jeng's Szechuan, Los Bravos, DiLegge's, Turoni's), I can give you a little taste of what I like to do and where I like to go when I'm in my old home town. This is just a small taste... many many more photos are here. More are coming soon. In the meantime, enjoy!P.S. I'm totally digging Google Analytics telling me where my readers are! A big hello to Melbourne, Montevideo (do I know someone in Uruguay?), and Birmingham! An equally big hello to Falls Church, South Bend, and Los Angeles! And Bloomington! And, naturally, Boston! You're all most welcome here! Leave me a comment and let me know what's going on in your corner of the world!

Simple pleasures

While I was home last week, I daily indulged in the treats of the season. Farm-fresh produce is abundant in Indiana throughout Summer, but I was extra lucky to arrive when the corn, blackberries, and melons were all reaching the height of their juicy, colorful, fullness. This type of tasty, natural beauty is great fun to photograph as well, so here's a little taste of late Summer in
IN.Figure 1. Zucchini.Figure 2. Corn.
Figure 3. Blackberries with Greek yogurt and honey.

So many odds and ends... and a wee clip show

Figure 1. They like straight lines in Indiana.

Yesterday I winged my way home to Indiana for a brief, but much-needed visit. Since then, I've been wallowing in puppy-love, eating too much good Mexican food and my mom's mushroom soup (Stay tuned for THAT recipe. It will make you weep.), going to the movies (which is the official pastime of my home town), and sleeping in my old bed. All in all, the perfect first twenty hours home.

Figure 2. The Liberty Hotel. Perfect place to toast your own personal ball-and-chain.

But! Before I came home, there was an anniversary to be celebrated. My dear Brit and I have been married (legally, though not with huge, froufy fanfare) for one year and two days now and it still seems like the best decision we could ever have made. To celebrate on Saturday I did not cook. So I have no nuptially-themed recipe to share. But we did go to Clink at the Liberty Hotel and eat a lot of really delicious food, drink a couple of delicious cocktails, and some really delicious wine. Figure 3. Seared scallops with lobster, mushrooms, parsnips (puree), and dates. Holy. Crap.

This all followed a lovely day spent at the ICA and wandering downtown and snapping photos. You can see the initial results here, with medium format goodness to follow when I'm home and developing again.Figure 4. Boston view from ICA.

For now, though, I'll share with you the recipe for the World's Best Banana Pudding, courtesy of my mom. Again. She's getting accustomed to my frantic, last-minute "Please tell me how you make x dish!" emails and is responding with aplomb. I only hope one day I have the memory for recipes that she does.

(The occasion for this recipe was my sister FINALLY coming back to town after being away for altogether too long. She's always been a sucker for banana pudding and I thought it might be appropriate for some welcome back comfort food. She approved of the end result, as I'm sure you all will, too.)

Banana Pudding (courtesy My Mom)
Figure 5. I used miniature trifle dishes.

• Combine 2 small packages of Instant Jello pudding—French Vanilla Flavor (sometimes hard to find—but def. better than regular vanilla) with 3 cups of milk (I use skim milk!)
• Add 1 can of Eagle brand condensed, sweetened milk and beat with mixer until it starts to thicken.
• After you stop beating and as the pudding thickens add a 9 ounce container of Cool Whip (I use the light variety) Fold this in gently to avoid deflating The Cool whip (the purpose of this is to lighten the pudding).
• Layer Vanilla wafers, sliced bananas, and the pudding mixture to create the finished product. It looks pretty to do in a trifle bowl. I usually crumble some vanilla wafers on top for panache! Do not leave bananas on top—as they will darken when exposed to air.

As ever, I suggest you note the ingredients (and quantities) before going shopping. If, however, you find yourself at home with, oh, I don't know, only one (1) package of French Vanilla Instant Pudding, you can halve the recipe. The proportions are very approximate and really, short of using stale vanilla wafers or rotten bananas, I'm not sure how you could screw this up. I recommend it for hot-weather colds, broken hearts, or warm welcome-backs. Also, as my mom suggests, pot-lucks.

Culling Time

I have, as you all know, a little window-box herb garden. Unfortunately, my basil (beautiful flat-leaf Italian basil from Pemberton Farms) grew a little out of control and was choking out my thyme and sage. There was only one thing to do. I trimmed and cut back and culled and ended up with a pile of fresh basil that just didn't know what to do with itself.

So, I pulled out my food processor, grated up a big chunk of parmesan, threw in some pine nuts, added the basil and processed until it smelled nutty and cheesy and fresh. I then added olive oil until I liked the color and consistency. My best guess as to quantities: 1 cup basil leaves, 3 T pine nuts (all I had left), and about a cup of oil. Also, salt and pepper.**I tossed some of the pesto with penne (which we ate alongside some delicious chicken sausage), but there was a lot left over. What to do? I pulled out an ice cube tray, discarded its cubes and filled up six of the little wells with pesto. I left them in the freezer overnight and am now left with six delicious little green cubes, just waiting for a craving to hit. I highly recommend you all kill some basil today. The results are stunning.**Note: I did not add garlic. This was simply an oversight, but it did result in a mild and versatile pesto.

For the bride

It's not every day a girl's best friend gets married. That is an occasion that simply must be marked. Yesterday I and the other women in my dear K's life converged on Rhode Island for a shower to celebrate the bride's impending happy occasion. I volunteered to do a little baking and took with me (on the train) some cupcakes with ever-so-melty frosting (do NOT try to make cream cheese frosting in August if you don't have air conditioning) and the olive oil cookies I've been raving about for weeks now. Last time I just quoted cookbook's tweeted recipe, but this time I did some tweaking and will give you a full blow by blow.

Olive Oil Cookies
Ingredients

• 1 egg
• 7 T olive oil
• 5 T wine (this time I used amaretto)
• 1 c flour
• 6 T sugar
• 1/2 t minced fresh rosemary (I used more than that.)
• 1/4 t baking powder
• salt & pepper

1. With a mixer on medium speed, beat the egg, oil, and wine together.
2. In a separate bowl, combine the dry ingredients.
3. Add the dry to the wet and mix until smooth and doughy. Full disclosure: last time I complained about the dough being too wet, so this time I probably used more like 1 1/2 c.
4. Pinch off and form about 20 cookies. I made them quite small this time and it turned out to be 34. As to the question of "forming" the cookies, I rolled the dough into balls thinking they would spread more or less evenly in the oven. They didn't really spread and, instead, came out as delicious little golden nuggets.
5. Bake for 12-15 minutes at 375° or until golden brown. Be sure not to burn the bottoms.

**Note: the original red wine in the recipe does give the cookies a slightly more complex flavor, but the amaretto makes them more decisively sweet. Consider your preferences and venue and just go with your gut.

Highlights from today's archiving

Figure One. Hamburg Rathaus by night. Expect many many more photos like this here.
Figure Two. Blurry Christine having cocktails.
Figure Three. Silly (but cool) jumping Dan.