I’ve been away for a while, much longer than the week off that I’d planned on taking. I needed to take a break from the pace of the FCI kitchens and my internship, to travel up north for family time and to reunite with old friends, to cook without pausing to take notes or click the shutter, and to eat some amazing food at this seriously good, seriously charming neighborhood eatery, and this destination restaurant/shrine to local cuisine. We capped it all off by ringing in the New Year with champagne and Brian’s now famous paella, and then, before I knew it, I was right back in the thick of things and feeling very disorganized.

I try to take a realistic approach to making resolutions come January 1, avoiding things that I know are futile, like super-restrictive dieting, or resolving to stop compulsively biting my nails (been there, done that). Instead, I like to make lists comprised of a mix of goals and big moments yet to come in the year ahead. Today’s recipe for creamy, hearty breakfast quinoa parlays beautifully into two lists I’ve made this year: my personal list, and my EVK-specific list.

Personal List:

1. Eat (good, nutritious) breakfasts. Coffee alone does not count, neither do the little tasting bites of muffins, scones, quick breads, and biscuits that I (simply must) take while working on morning production at my internship.

2. Attend to household duties as they come up, to avoid last week’s no heat, broken dryer, tub that’s leaking into the neighbor’s apartment, shower handle coming off, thank you notes still not sent scenario. These things tend to spiral out of control.

3. Culinary school graduation date: July 13

4. Wedding date: August 29

5. Interview/trail date for internship at restaurant possessing more than one Michelin star (that will remain anonymous here): January 19

6. Work hard, be nice, etc.

Blog List:

1. More original recipes

2. Better photographs

3. More bread

4. Be less of a lone wolf in the blogging community

It’s going to be a very exciting year, and I’m looking forward to sharing it with EVK readers. Happy New Year!

Breakfast Quinoa

The cooks at the restaurant where I intern make a version of this for brunch, and they get bombarded with orders for it, especially on cold rainy or snowy days. I’ve never asked for the recipe, figuring that I could adapt my experience using quinoa in savory recipes for this sweeter, more moist breakfast version. I used what I had in the pantry to give the quinoa flavor and texture and I encourage you to do so too. There are a million variations for this recipe, which makes it a great base for eating day after day, with a variety of different additives.

Serves 2

The Base:

1/2 cup milk (1% to whole)
2/3 cup water
1/2 cup quinoa
tiny pinch of kosher salt

Optional add-ins (these are just examples) all to taste:

dried fruits: (raisins, cranberries, chopped apricots, cherries, figs)
nuts: chopped and toasted (almonds, walnuts, pecans, pine nuts)
fresh fruits of all kinds: stir in right before eating
dried, unsweetened coconut
drizzles: honey, maple syrup, agave nectar
spices: cinnamon, clove, or nutmeg
brown sugar

Rinse quinoa in cold water and drain thoroughly. Place the quinoa, water, milk, and small pinch of salt into a 1.5 – 2 qt. saucepan with a cover. Bring to a rolling boil, then lower the heat to med-low. Simmer for 15 minutes with the saucepan covered, then remove from heat and allow it to stand for 5 additional minutes (or until most, but not all of the liquid is absorbed and most of the quinoa is translucent in the center) with the cover still on.

Stir in add-ins of your choice to taste and serve immediately.

Back in the summer, I made a promise that I’d be blogging about bread recipes and techniques on the heels of my summer spent learning to bake artisan bread (click here, and here, and here, and here), and here I am in October, apologizing for just getting down to it now.

The  change of seasons and the upcoming holidays are putting me in the mood to start making beautiful loaves again, and rather than mourning my loss of no longer having the privilege of using the FCI’s ridiculously awesome steam-injected ovens that produce the most heavenly, crispy, and downright perfect crust, I’ve set my sights on mimicking those conditions in my home oven instead.

Over the coming weeks I’ll be testing different home sourdough starters (and restarting the one in my fridge that’s been dormant since August) and tracking down some necessary equipment to bake crusty loaves, but today I decided to at least get my hands back in the dough by warming up with some mini-brioche (or brioche à tête. In French, tête  means “head”).

Contrary to popular belief among home cooks, brioche is actually very easy to make. As with all breads, there is a lot of downtime for the cook while the dough rises, but the process itself is not that hard.

When it comes time to shape your dough, divide the pieces as evenly as possible. I use a digital scale to do this (aiming for pieces that are 50 grams, give or take a few). Pat the pieces flat, then fold the piece in half and stand it up on it’s ends (if it were a book, the spine wound be facing you). Then form a “cage” around the dough piece and form it into a ball by pushing the dough in a circular motion with your thumb and gently pressing with the palm of your hand. It takes a little time to get the hang of this, but once you do you can quickly shape the balls of dough. Once you have a ball, find the smooth top part and form the head by using the flat side of your hand to separate about 1/3 of the dough away from the original ball. rock your hand back and forth until the dough is almost, but not quite, separated from the original ball.

Place the larger side of the dough piece down into your tin (I used these fluted tins, but you can use a muffin tin just as well) and press your fingers in around the seam where the head meets the rest of the dough. The aim is to tuck the head down into the bottom dough piece while still maintaining the seam. This prevents the head from popping off during the final proof or in the oven.

Once the dough is shaped, it is important to allow it to proof ( this is a term for when the dough rises) before baking. It will puff up to a little less than double it’s original size during this time, and the elasticity will relax.

Apply a light egg wash before baking, taking care to avoid the seam around the head.

There are few kitchen endeavors more satisfying than sitting down to brunch with friends and serving them buttery, tender brioche made with your own two hands. These are as adorable as they are delicious, and totally worth the time.

Brioche à Tête
Adapted from King Arthur Flour

This is a recipe where using a stand mixer with a hook attachment or the mixing function on a bread machine is absolutely necessary – even the strongest person’s arms would fall off if they tried to make this by hand!  Cooling is an important part of the bread making process – make sure that you remove the brioche from the tins five minutes after baking and allow it to cool completely on a rack.

Makes 12

2 3/4 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1 1/4 teaspoons salt
1 tablespoon instant yeast
3 large eggs
1/4 cup lukewarm whole milk
10 tablespoons butter

egg wash:

1 egg
1 egg yolk
pinch of salt

Directions

In a stand mixer with a hook attachment or bread machine (programmed for dough), mix together flour, eggs, yeast, and milk until they form a very stiff, dry dough. Add the butter, a chunk at a time, and the salt and sugar. Mix on medium  to form a smooth, shiny dough. Don’t worry; what starts out as a sticky mess becomes beautifully satiny as it kneads. This dough takes longer than most to develop, so be prepared to let the dough knead for up to 15 to 20 minutes in a stand mixer. If you’re using a bread machine, let it complete its kneading cycle, then continue as directed below.

Form the dough into a ball (it’ll be very soft), place it in a greased bowl, cover the bowl, and it let rise for 1 hour. Then refrigerate the dough for several hours, or overnight. This will slow the fermentation and chill the butter, making the dough easier to shape.

Divide the chilled dough into 12 pieces and roll the pieces into balls. Place the balls on a very lightly floured cookie sheet and allow them to rest for 30 minutes. The dough should lose some elasticity and become a bit bigger.

After 30 minutes, shape the dough pieces (full description with photos above) Place the dough into the greased pan(s) of your choice, spread evenly on a baking sheet if using individual tins, cover lightly, and let rise for 2 hours, until it’s doubled and looks very puffy.

Beat the egg and egg yolk together with the pinch of salt. Brush the tops of the brioche lightly with the egg wash (you really only need a little, make sure to wipe the excess off the brush before gently applying), avoid applying egg wash to the seams.

Place the pan(s) into a preheated 375°F oven and bake for 25 to 30 minutes (tent after 10 minutes if they’re browning too quickly). Remove from the oven, let stand for 5 minutes, then turn out onto a rack to cool completely. Store in a closed paper bag for up to two days or double-wrapped in plastic wrap in the freezer for up to one month.

There are two ways to roll out the dough between each folding of the dough when making viennoiserie. You can do it the old fashioned (read: time consuming way) by hand, or you can do it using a machine called a sheeter. A sheeter is a must have if you are planning to make croissants on a daily basis. It also is a near-necessity for truly perfect croissants because it gives you perfectly even rolled out dough (and butter), and it works fast, keeping things cold, which is important. I first discovered the sheeter in this video from The City Bakery, which shows you the whole process in mass production, if you are interested.





Using a sheeter makes a potentially hard part (rolling the dough, focusing on the temperatures) easy, and frees you up for concentrating on the really hard part: shaping. I’ve made croissants at least five times now in class, two big sheet pans at a time. I’ve also made raisin danish spirals with pastry cream and apricot cream cheese pinwheels, both, unfortunately, not pictured. All of these items are really hard to shape perfectly, although the chefs make it seem effortless.





Learning to make croissants became a fixation of mine, and I started using it as the opening argument in the ongoing internal debate: Halt Career to Go to Cooking School? Yes? No? It was one of those things that I would never be able to learn how to do well without the proper equipment. A very small bullet point in the “pros” column that was a catalyst for getting more serious about considering school a viable possibility.





And lo, I am not an expert, but these are pictures of croissants that I made, and I’m getting more happy with my technique each time I make them. It’s a skill I’ll take with me when I go looking for baking work after graduation from bread class next week. Exciting times!

I am dead tired today, and It’s all I can do to keep my eyelids from drooping down over my eyes and obscuring the view of my laptop screen. You see, I haven’t been sleeping very well, and I have a lot of reasons for feeling like I’m one word away from collapse.

First off, there’s the constant drip, drip, drip from the big hole in my bedroom ceiling where water continues to come in with each nightly storm. Each time I hear it, I’m reminded of our building management’s incompetence and inability to fix anything – in fact they usually just exacerbate the issue – and the whole ordeal makes me violently angry. We’ve had this leak for over a year and these clowns still can’t fix it. And the dripping keeps me awake for hours. There’s also my rude ground floor neighbor who fancies himself a younger version of Hugh Hefner and has taken to throwing obnoxious parties at 2 AM in his illegal, ground-floor hot tub on weeknights. 

So what do I lie awake thinking about? Good, exciting things, for starters: The first day of my International Bread Baking class on July 6th, our recent engagement (I’ll shut up about it, I promise), and my friend Scott coming in from Prague for a visit on Friday, just for some examples.

But I’ve also been under stress, and I’m beginning to feel the brunt of that as well. Getting student loans in order hasn’t been an easy process, and my new frenemy Salle Mae, without whom cooking school would not be possible, sure hasn’t made things easy or affordable. Then there’s all the little errands that have had to happen; getting a replacement social security card (lost) and license (expired when I turned 30), having tests for TB and Hepetitis A (needles, next to snakes are my biggest fear) so my doctor can sign off  when I go back tomorrow with the official form, trying hard to secure some freelance marketing work to stay afloat, and worrying that it’s not going to happen, not to mention still working on the full-time marketing gig that is still mine for the next few weeks.

Maybe it’s no coincidence that I started thinking a lot about the things that my grandmother baked for us when we were kids, as her baking was the ultimate comfort food for all of her grandchildren. I called up my mom the other day and ask her to go through grammy’s recipe box to look for some of my old favorites, and I named this zucchini bread specifically. She found two different versions, which I have combined into one for blog purposes. There were no instructions on the index card, just the ingredients inscribed with pencil in my grandmother’s delicate handwriting and the cooking time and temperature. She knows the technique by heart, so she’s never had a need to write down baking instructions.

I was skeptical about the oil in the bread recipes, mostly because I flat out don’t like canola oil. Sure, you get a moist crumb, but what’s the point when it’s at the expense of taste? I always detect an off flavor using it (or at least, I imagine it), but perhaps that is because of the absence of flavor that comes with using butter. The bread was very good, but in the future I’ll go with my gut and sub in butter. I encourage you to do the same. Perhaps it was for the best that my bread wasn’t as good as I remember it (or at any rate, I’ve developed higher standards for cooking fat) because I only ate a little slice. If I had made it with butter I would have risked devouring the whole loaf in a stressful fit, and that’s not a great idea, given that my mom and I were just considering wedding-wear choices on the phone last night (shoot, I did it again).

Zuchini Bread Recipe
Adapted from Grammy Hall’s recipe box

3 eggs

2 cups of granulated sugar

1 cup canola oil

3 cups flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon cinnamon

3/4 cup sweetened, shredded flake coconut

3 cups grated zucchini

1 teaspoon vanilla

optional: 3/4 cup chopped walnuts or semi-sweet chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Grease and flour the bottoms and sides of two bread loaf pans and set aside.

In a bowl, sift together flour, salt, baking powder, baking soda, and cinnamon and set aside.

Place the eggs, and oil in the bowl of a stand mixer (or, you may also use a hand mixer or do it the old fashioned way) and beat on medium for about 30 seconds. Add the dry ingredients in three equal additions, scraping down the sides and mixer paddle with each addition, beating until just combined. Add the coconut, zucchini, and vanilla (and the walnuts/chocolate chips, if you desire) and beat until just combined. Pour the mixture in equal amounts into the bread pans. Bake for approximately 1 hour, or until the top is golden brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.

Cool in the pan for 15 minutes, then turn out onto a cooling rack. Allow the bread to cool completely before cutting. Keeps for 3-4 days wrapped in foil, or up to a month in the freezer wrapped in multiple layers of plastic wrap.

I feel the need to get one thing off my chest. Here goes. Really good granola, you know, the kind that has an amazing, crispy texture and those delicious nuggets where the oats and nuts fuse together with the baked goodness to form bits that you want to eat right out of the bag or box? The kind that is chock-full of fruits and nuts and is sort of like trail mix, only minus the chocolate, for breakfast?

No matter what the hippies tell you, that stuff is not really healthy per se, and unless you are Michael Phleps, Lance Armstrong, or someone training for a long distance race of any sort, you should probably not eat a big bowl of it everyday.

With that said, I think granola is outstanding in moderation. I like mine to be as much about the fruits and nuts as it is about the oats and clusters, and it’s my personal opinion that coconut really takes granola to the next level. There’s lots of healthful things in this granola – dried fruit, nuts, oats, and plenty of fiber.

The thing that makes it more of a once-in-a-while and/or in extreme moderation food is the oil and (in this case) butter that it’s baked in to make everything crispy. This homemade granola is soooo much better than the stuff you buy in a store, and with all those fancy brands out there tempting us, it’s more economical too. Making it for yourself removes it from the category of ordinary and everyday and makes it as special as a baked good, without all the hassle or mess. 

You can get really creative with the combinations of dried fruits and nuts you use, just be sure not to bake the dried fruits in the oven – just add them later on. In hindsight, I’d probably add the coconut (coated in some of the honey/oil/butter mixture) later – I found that it burnt a bit in the oven, although it still was very tasty.

Be sure to store in an airtight container, to ensure freshness for over a week.

Homemade Granola
Adapted from The Barefoot Contessa Cookbook by Ina Garten

4 cups old-fashioned rolled oats

• 2 cups sweetened, shredded coconut
• 2 cups chopped pecans
• 1 cup dried cherries, chopped
• 1 cup dried cranberries 
• 1 cup dried figs, quartered with stems removed
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1/2 cup good honey
• 3 tablespoons melted butter (salted)

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Toss the oats, coconut and pecans together in a large bowl. Pour the vegetable oil, honey, and melted butter over the oat mixture. Stir with a wooden spoon until all the oats and nuts are coated with the liquids. Pour onto a sheet pan. Bake, stirring occasionally with a spatula, until the mixture turns a nice, even golden brown, about 25 to 30 minutes.

Remove the granola from the oven and allow to cool, stirring occasionally. Add all of the dried friuts. Store the cooled granola in an airtight container.

Let’s hear it for the weekend, which has finally arrived. W-E-E-K-E-N-D! What’s that spell? WEEKEND! All frustration, exacerbated by chores undone, delayed flights, and obnoxious comments about the very disgusting, self-inflicted scar smack in the middle of my nose (the result of accident-prone me scraping my nose on the bottom of the laundry basket as I was puling it down from atop the machines last week), has melted away. This weekend is all about rest and fun and yes, catching up. 

I kicked off the weekend of relaxation and fun rocking out to Franz Ferdinand at their NYC show, followed by 12 delicious hours of sleep and some hard-core couch surfing. I am almost completely reluctant to cook anything at the moment, except foods related to brunching, and with leftover milk, eggs, and buttermilk all just waiting to expire in my fridge, plus a carton of blueberries that I’d picked up with something in mind (but for the life of me, I can’t remember what).

And so, I made pancakes for Brian and me this morning. Lots and lots of them, which I always do, and we never even come close to finishing them. I always wrap extra pancakes in plastic wrap and put them in the fridge and somehow, they usually disappear within a day. I expect the same to happen this time, because these were absolutely perfect with a nice tang from the buttermilk and a great flavor from the cup of whole wheat pastry flour that I substituted for white. They were perfectly light and fluffy and totally delicious.

After the pancake leftovers were wrapped up, I proceeded to scour the internet for contacts for greenhouses in Maine that might be selling Blueberry bushes, because, at the top of that to-do list that has been gathering dust all week, is the very important errand of saying thank you to my mother for birthing me and then putting up with me for the last (almost) 30 years.

My mom is a tough nut to crack in the gift buying department. She doesn’t like the usual stuff and she’s fiercely practical. She’s a gardening guru, so last year I thought I had nailed it when I ordered a bunch of bulbs to plant in the garden at my grandmother’s house. Best daughter ever, right? Uh, no. Because I have zero clue about planing seasons for bulbs, and I managed to buy a variety that spanned the calendar, and my mother has been receiving my gift in annoying little installments, each one causing her to have to coordinate with the UPS guy for delivery.

A few weeks ago she mentioned that she was getting into planting blueberry bushes, so I’m determined to find a place in her area that sells them, pre pay for one, and allow her to go pick it up herself. Except that, between the complications of prepayment and the fact that no one seems to have blueberry bushes right now, I’m striking out all over York, Maine and the surrounding area. Anyone know where I can prepay for a blueberry bush somewhere in southern Maine?

Blueberry Buttermilk Pancakes
Adapted from Mark Bittman’s book How to Cook Everything 

1 cup all-purpose flour

1 cup whole wheat pastry flour (or substitute for an additional cup of all-purpose flour)

1 teaspoon baking soda

½ teaspoon salt

2 tablespoons sugar

2 eggs

1 cup milk

1 cup buttermilk

2 tablespoons melted and cooled butter 

1 ½ cups fresh or frozen blueberries

Preheat a griddle or large skillet over medium-low heat while you make the batter.

Mix together the dry ingredients. Beat the eggs into 1½ cups of milk, then stir in the 2 tablespoons melted cooled butter and vanilla (if you are using them). Gently stir this into the dry ingredients, mixing only enough to moisten the flour; don’t worry about a few lumps. If the batter seems thick, add a little more milk. Fold in blueberries.

If your skillet or griddle is nonstick, you can cook the pancakes without any butter. Otherwise, use a teaspoon or two of butter or oil each time you add batter. When the butter foam subsides or the oil shimmers, ladle batter onto the griddle or skillet, making any size pancakes you like. Adjust the heat as necessary; usually, the first batch will require higher heat than subsequent batches. The idea is to brown the bottom in 2 to 4 minutes, without burning it. Flip when the pancakes are cooked on the bottom; they won’t hold together well until they’re ready.

Cook until the second side is lightly browned and serve, or hold on an ovenproof plate in a 200-degrees oven for up to 15 minutes.

Last night I enjoyed an easy Friday night of eating dinner at home and watching movies. Before we turned in, at around 11, I laid out my running clothes and set my alarm for the 10K that I had signed up to run in the morning. 

I desperately wanted to be pumped for this race. The problem is, I’ve been having a lot of trouble getting excited by running these days. I used to go out for runs and enjoy being outside, letting my mind wander and my feet move as the carefully selected tunes shuffled through my playlist. But so far this spring, it’s just been a hassle. My head races, and there’s no meditative rhythm. I spend the entire time arguing with myself in my head to keep going.

This morning, post alarm, I lay in bed and psyched myself up. Yes, I will have a good run today. No, I will not fear the endless hills on Central Park North. I will run like the wind. Bring on the pain. I will sweat! I will love running again! 

Minutes later, I saw just how hard it was raining. I stepped out on to the balcony and felt the chill. That pretty much killed it for me. I’d have to wait in the rain for an hour before I even left the starting line. This was the cold, miserable, wet-footed thought that broke the camel’s back as I headed back to bed.

Later on, when I woke up for the second time, Brian made us Matzo Brei. If you don’t know what that is, think of it as french toast made from matzo that is eaten during Passover. You soak the matzo in water for a bit to soften it up, then squeeze out the water and mix with eggs and, if you have it (we didn’t), rendered chicken fat (or melted butter). 

I’ve seen it cooked two ways, although Brian swears that his (which is really his mother’s via his grandmother) method of forming it into a big pancake and frying it in a little butter (or chicken fat) is the only acceptable method. I’ve also had it cooked the way one might cook scrambled eggs. I enjoy matzo brei with maple suryp, but brian likes to section his off into a bunch of different flavor quadrants – one for salt, one for sugar, one for apricot preserves, one for raspberry jam. It was totally delicious and so filling that I’m now, for the second time today, psyching myself up for (treadmill) running.

Matzo Brei
The Weisenthal way

4 unsalted matzo

2 eggs

Pinch of kosher salt

water

3 tablespoons chicken fat (or butter)

(suggested toppings) maple syrup, sugar, salt, applesauce, jelly, jam, preserves, nutella, and/or peanut butter

Heat a non-stick pan over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons of chicken fat or butter and cook until fully melted. Remove from heat.

Break the matzo into roughly 1/2 – 1 inch pieces in a large bowl. Cover the matzo pieces in water until completely covered for 15 seconds. Drain the water and squeeze out the matzo so it is damp but not dripping. Return the matzo to the bowl. Add eggs, the fat in the pan, and the pinch of salt. Use a fork to mix, until all of the pieces are uniformly covered.

Return the non-stick pan to medium heat and melt the remaining chicken fat or butter. Spoon the mixture in the bowl onto the pan, and form it into a pancake, filling the bottom of the pan. Cook until the bottom is golden brown and crispy. Flip and cook until both sides are golden brown and crispy. Remove from heat and serve immediately with desired condiments.

Come here often? If you do, then what you are probably thinking right now is along the lines of, “what’s with this chick and scones? Isn’t this, like, her third post about them? Is she obsessed?”  And if that’s what you think, you should know, you’re just scratching the surface of my OCD about this particular baked good. 

Biting into my first Veselka scone raised the bar for all other scones that I have encountered since. They have a cumbly, flaky texture with the crisp outside that gives with the lightest touch, and each crumb literally melts on your tongue. They pair with coffee like no other pastry I’ve known. It’s hard for me to do them justice, but this scene sort of sums it up.

The day I started commuting on the F train, it became necessary to place a personal ban on stopping at Little Veselka (the adorable satellite version of the restaurant that is right next to my stop) on the way to work, because I know the limits of my own willpower and that even one innocent stop for coffee would become a slippery slope, leading to the inevitable, “Hmm, why don’t any of my pants button?”

In short, I’m on a quest to find the secret and keep trying new recipes to just find a hint as to what makes the Veselka scone unlike any other. Anytime I don’t have ingredients for anything else in the house, or lack the inspiration to figure out something different, I seize the opportunity to test another scone recipe.

This time I decided to experiment with this recipe by Dorie Greenspan, because I had not yet attempted a cream scone, and thought that perhaps that ingredient would be the holy grail I was searching for.  The recipe was easy to follow and included a neat cutting technique that involved shaping the dough into circles and then cutting the circles as you would a pizza. Ms. Greenspan also provides a good primer on what to watch for when integrating butter and flour for optimal flaking (she likens the texture to that of a gravel road – the perfect analogy).

They also baked up beautifully and were delicious (they really were. Top notch.) and flaky as promised. I would have called them my favorite, if not for my obsession. They just didn’t do that melt-in-your-mouth crumble thing that I can’t get off my mind. And so – cue the sad violins – I press on. Having exhausted recipes from all of my trusted sources, I’m thinking that I’ll be needing to bring out the big guns – leaf lard anyone?

Cream Scones
Adapted from Baking: From My Home to Yours by Dorie Greenspan

1 large egg

2/3 cup heavy whipping cream

2 cups all-purpose flour

2 Tbs granulated sugar

1 Tbs baking powder

¼ tsp salt

5 Tbs unsalted butter, cut into small pieces and chilled

¾ cup moist, plump currants (I used dried cherries, because it was all I had in the pantry)

 Center a rack in the oven and preheat the oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment or a silicone mat.

 Stir the egg and cream together.

Whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder and salt together in a large bowl. Drop in the butter and, using your fingers, toss to coat the pieces of butter with flour. Quickly, working with your fingertips or a pastry blender, cut and rub the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture is pebbly. Add currants and toss a few times to integrate.

Pour the egg and cream over the dry ingredients and stir with a fork just until the dough, which will be wet and sticky, come together. Don’t overdo it. Still in the bowl, gently knead the dough by hand, or turn it with a rubber spatula 8 to 10 times.

Lightly dust a work surface with flour and turn out the dough. Divide it in half. Working with one piece at a time, pat the dough into a rough circle that’s about 5 inches in diameter, cut it into 6 wedges and place it on the baking sheet. (At this point, the scones can be frozen on the baking sheet, then wrapped airtight. Don’t defrost before baking- just add about 2 minutes to the baking time.)

Bake the scones for 20 to 22 minutes, or until their tops are golden and firmish. Transfer them to a rack and cool for 10 minutes before serving, or wait for them to cool to room temperature.

I got to know Amanda, who is now a dear friend, when we happened to be placed in the same college Spanish class during our sophomore year. This class, which was only available in painful, once a week, four hour long installments, had one saving grace, the man who taught it. Our beloved Professor Rendstrom, spent as much of the four hours teaching us how to navigate the subjunctive as he did speaking out against “the Man” while fingering the tip of his long, flowing ponytail. And when our much-anticipated half-time breaks finally arrived, Rendstrom would look up, reach for his pack of cigarettes, and say “OK. Smoke-um if you got-em”. Which of course has become a standing joke that Amanda and I share whenever our paths happen to cross.

This morning I embraced the sentiment of “smoke-em if you got-em” in my kitchen. Having been stuck in the house all weekend with some kind of icky respiratory illness, I hadn’t planned on meals and my only options were whatever was around. A quick survey concluded that I had three eggs, an avocado, a lime, and an onion (both on their last days), a bit of cilantro, a can of pinto beans, and a small amount of goat cheese of questionable age, that was thankfully free of mold. Smoke-em if you got-em!

I squeezed the lime over the avocado halves (for flavor and to prevent them from turning brown) and chopped them into small pieces.

I sliced the onion and put it in a saucepan over low to medium heat with a little sugar to make quick caramelized onions.

I topped the egg base of an omelette with all of the ingredients, allowed them to get hot, and there you have it. A perfect Sunday brunch, improvised.

Topped with a dab of hot sauce, it was tasty and satisfying and there was more than enough there for the two of us to share. Rather than provide you the recipe below, I will instead make a list of some other fun combinations that you might try, using ingredients you happen to have handy. 

The “Smoke-um If You Got-um” Omelette

Required:

3 eggs, beaten (less if it’s just you, more if you have additional people)

salt and fresh ground pepper

olive oil

Potential ingredients:

Beans – red, black, pinto, refried, even lentils or chickpeas

Cheese – really any will do, it’s your preference

Veggies – tomatoes, sauteed spinach, onions (caramelized or raw), green peppers, cooked broccoli, asparagus, roasted red peppers, garlic

Fresh herbs – dill, cilantro, parsley, basil, oregano, rosemary

Meat – chorizo, proschutto, salami, sausage, ham, bacon, pancetta, smoked turkey

Other: olives, capers, hot sauce, ketchup

There was talk of pancakes all week long with no action, so it was really only a matter of time until, well, these happened. 

And after a lot of weak justifications (“Isn’t it still technically Valentine’s Day?”) and with the obscenely large, rediculously cheap block of high-quality dark chocolate that I picked up the day before at the Chelsea Market burning a hole in my pantry, the chocolate part just sort of happened. 

Cherries and chocolate together make for one sexy pancake, don’t you think?  It still seems like such an oxymoron to me, for some reason.

But I have to believe that this whole obscene episode was meant to be, because as I so often do, I happened to reach for Mark Bittman’s book for some fast inspiration, and discovered a recipe for the lightest, fluffiest pancakes ever made. If not for the weight of the chocolate, they would have risen off the plate.

It’s the egg whites, beaten until they hold soft peaks, that are the secret.

If you fold them into the batter carefully, they hold much of their air, and keep things light from bowl, to ladle, to pan, to plate.

Guest photo credits to Brian, who was messing around with the new lens. As usual, he acted as head taster.

Except for this shot, which I took, post meal.

Fluffy Dark Chocolate Pancakes with Cherry Sauce
Adapted from How to Cook Everything by Mark Bittman