this is green and red but not christmas

*I really love blogging, but I'm having a hard time (1) being consistent and (2) finding my niche in terms of what I enjoy and can constantly blog about. There's my tumblr, where I pretty much just post and repost pictures and links and quotes I like, once in awhile throwing in a piece of writing or two, but in general, my tumblr is like a bulletin board where I tack on things that catch my eye, then float on by. It's a place of often thoughtless whimsy or cursory rehashing. Sometimes I post pictures I've taken, but lately I haven't really been taking pictures. Which is why I post infrequently on this blog too (another reason is that I always forget to write down recipes). Though this blog started out as a photo blog, it has turned into more of a recipe blog, which I'm okay with - except that when I head back to school in about a month, I won't have a kitchen anymore. Then what will happen? Who knows? I just know I really like blogging.

*At the same time, I've accepted that my life is a bit rough-and-tumble right now, constantly changing, constantly in flux. Last year I was in four different continents and at least nine different countries. I have no long-term plans in my head, and to be honest, I'm still trying to figure out who I am and what I love to do. I've been second-guessing my passions, trying out new things, and figuring out my emotions and desires - all of which collectively means that I'm really just growing up and trying to get comfortable in my own skin. So I know that there's not going to be consistency in my life for awhile, that I'm going to be changing and trying and changing again for awhile, and that blogging (which I've been doing since I was 12 years old - my first blog was on xanga.com and my username was xoxandyroddick, I kid you not) will be following suit.

*On an unrelated note, here's a pretty tasty kale salad:

Marinated Kale and Roasted Beet Salad
Serves 2 as a side dish

Ingredients:
1 large beet or 2 small beets, washed and scrubbed
1 bunch raw curly kale (washed, de-stemmed and dried) – 4-5 stalks
juice of 1 medium lemon (about 3 Tbsp)
2 Tbsp apple cider vinegar
1 Tbsp liquid aminos (tamari or soy sauce would work too)
2 Tbsp nutritional yeast
1 Tbsp tahini
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
1 large beet or 2 small beets, washed and scrubbed
1 tsp sesame seeds, to taste as garnish (optional)

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

2. Wrap the beet(s) in foil and bake for one hour, or until soft.

3. Tear the kale leaves off the stalk, breaking up the leaves into smaller pieces as well. Put into a bowl.

4. In a separate bowl, combine the lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, liquid aminos, nutritional yeast, tahini, and minced garlic. Whisk until smooth.

5. Pour dressing over kale leaves and massage well with hands for 1-2 minutes. Let marinate for an hour (while the beets bake!). Make sure to marinate the kale because this makes the salad taste infinitely better!

6. Remove from oven, unwrap, and let cool 5-10 minutes. Then peel (should be very easy at this point) and dice into chunks.

7. Top kale salad with diced beets and sesame seeds before servings

this is pretty and trashy

*I'm not ashamed to admit I have strange tastebuds. They've been developed over the years, and some of my tastes have changed and evolved but there are a few "quirks" that have remained the same ("quirks" is a euphemism):

**I can't stand the the idea of raw fruit touching each other. It sounds weird, but I have always been averse to mixed fruit. I don't like it when the flavors of fruit mix. The only acceptable combination is honeydew with canteloupe.

**In fact, I prefer all of my fruit whole. Please do not cut it for me. Or do anything to it for that matter. I will only eat fruit in its raw state (mostly). I have never in my life eaten any kind of fruit pie or fruit cobbler or fruit crumble. No, I have not eaten apple pie or blueberry pie and do not plan to any time soon. I tried jam for the first time two years ago. Before that I would only eat orange marmalade.

*Ok, maybe "strange" was an understatement.

**I can eat 100% dark chocolate and I love it.

**I don't have much of a sweet tooth for typical desserts, such as cakes and ice creams and trifles and what not. I would much rather eat chocolate.

**Speaking of chocolate, a very dense flourless chocolate cake or torte is acceptable. Birthday cake is not. Birthday cake with fruit in it is abhorrent (I've never eaten this either. Maybe I'm a food bigot. I'll take it). Birthday cake frosting is equally abhorrent (I hated this as a child too - this was not an evolved taste by any means). As is whipped cream. As is marzipan. As is any kind of fluffy angel cake. I only like the densest, fudgiest cakes. Which are not really cakes actually. I don't like cakes.

*Have I written enough blasphemy yet?

**And let's talk about cookies. I've never liked cookie dough, and I'd much rather have a biscuit or buttery shortbread than a chocolate chip cookie. Like Italian frollini or biscotti or English tea biscuits. Am I American? Maybe not.

*I could probably go on forever, but I will pause the shock and awe for now. Of course, all that being said, it means that people are usually happy to share with me, because I usually like what other people don't like (the orange and yellow starbursts) and they like what I don't.

*And luckily most people like cookie dough and chocolate chip cookies (or variations of such), otherwise these pretty little cookie dough truffles and these trashy cookies wouldn't fly.

*But they did, and they were good. Even I thought they were good. Now that's saying something.


(I baked these for a friend's wedding dessert bar as seen above in the first picture)




Pretty Little Cookie Dough Truffles
Makes 40-45 small truffles
(Adapted from The Food Network)

1/2 cup butter, softened (I microwave cold butter for about 20 seconds)
3/4 cup packed brown sugar (do not use white; you need the moisture of brown)
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 (14-oz) can sweetened condensed milk
2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup mini-chocolate chips

11 oz white chocolate chips
1/4 cup neutral-flavored oil
1/2 cup assorted sprinkles

1. Cream butter and sugar together until smooth (I did this by hand because I like love creaming butter and sugar together manually - sounds like a pain and it is, but I like it; if you don't, use a stand mixer).
2. Add vanilla. Mix well.
3. Gradually add condensed milk, stirring well as you go. Then add flour, 1/2 cup at a time. Stir well until mixture reaches a dough-like consistency.



4. Add chocolate chips. Mix into dough until chocolate chips are well-dispersed.
5. Line multiple baking sheets with parchment or wax paper. Roll the cookie dough into balls (about 1.5-2 inches in diameter), using extra flour to prevent stickiness if necessary.



6. Place baking sheets in freezer for at least 2 hours.
7. After two hours, bring water to a boil in a double boiler set up. Pour white chocolate chips into the double boiler and turn down heat to low. Continuously stir as the chocolate chips melt. Slowly drizzle in oil while stirring.
8. Using chopsticks or tongs, dip each frozen cookie dough ball into the white chocolate, covering only half of the dough ball; then immediately dip into sprinkles (which should be in a bowl on a plate for easy dipping). Place back onto paper-lined baking sheets. After dipping entire batch, put baking sheets back into freezer and let set for at least 30 minutes before serving.

Natalie’s Trashy Cookies
Makes 40 small cookies or 20-30 medium-sized cookies
(inspired by Momofuku's compost cookies, adapted from here)

3/4 cup butter (1.5 sticks)
3/4 cup dark brown sugar
1/4 cup white granulated sugar
2 Tbsp instant coffee (I HIGHLY recommend Trader Joe’s brand)

1 egg
1 Tbsp vanilla

1 cup oatmeal
1 cup all purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
3/4 cup crushed potato chips
1/2 cup crushed pretzels
1/2 cup chocolate chips
1/2 cup crushed oreos
1/2 cup crushed butterfingers

1. Preheat Oven to 350 degrees.
2. Cream together butter, sugars, and coffee.

3. Whisk together egg and vanilla separately; then add this liquid mixture to the butter-sugar mixture. Mix well.
4. In large bowl, combine the oatmeal, flour, and baking soda, and then stir in the add-ins until evenly distributed.
5. Combine wet and dry batters. Mix well.

6. At this point, you can either chill the batter for about 2-4 hours OR you can go ahead and roll the dough into balls (about 1-2 Tbsp depending on the size of cookie you desire). If you choose to roll the dough into balls immediately, place on greased cookie sheet and freeze for 2 hours. Otherwise, chill first and then roll into balls.

7. Bake at 350 for 10-12 minutes (10 minutes for chewier cookies, 12 minutes for crispier cookies). (Note: if you look into the oven (like I do) a few minutes into baking, your cookies might look like Frosty the Melting Snowman but don’t worry, they will come out looking fine).
8. Let cool for 10-20 minutes before serving!

this is la ensalada de mi padre

*For several years now, I have cooked for my dad on Father's day. It's fitting, I think - because my dad is not much of a material-centric man and is not the kind of person who really desires objects or things. As such, how I show my love for him is through an act of service, through cooking for him and feeding him, which reciprocally mirrors the ways in which he has nourished me with his care and encouragement throughout the years.

*I cooked several dishes, but I thought this one in particular was very suited to his tastes: he loves Mexican food - especially beans - so this Mexican fiesta salad - which was not too difficult to throw together - seemed to fit the bill. This is a refreshing, flavorful, and colorful dish that is perfect to serve up on a hot summer day. It can be eaten in a tortilla, atop salad greens, or even as a side dish at a barbecue.

*(don't leave out the toasted chili pumpkin seeds - they are key and give this dish a lot of flavor and texture!)

Padre’s Mexican Fiesta Salad
(adapted from the Candle Cafe Cookbook)

serves 2-4

1 cup quinoa (I used 1/2 c yellow, 1/2 c red), rinsed and drained
2 1/2 c water
2 ears of corn1 can black beans
1 red bell pepper, destemmed + deseeded + diced
1 cup hominy
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
juice of 1 lime
salt + pepper to taste
1 cup toasted chili pumpkin seeds*

(optional) 1/2 avocado, diced (I didn’t add this this time, but I definitely would next time!)

*season 1 cup raw pumpkin seeds with 1 tsp chili powder and 1/2 tsp sea salt. Toast at 350 degrees F for 10 minutes.

1. Bring water to a boil in a pot. Add quinoa to the pot, then lower to a simmer and cook for 25 minutes until fluffy. Set aside to cool.
2. Boil (or steam) corn in a large pot of water for about 8 minutes. Remove and let cool.
3. In a large bowl, combine black beans, bell pepper, hominy, chopped cilantro, and lime juice.
4. Using a sharp knife, cut the corn from the cob into the salad mixture.
5. Add quinoa to the salad. Toss well.
6. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

7. Top with toasted pumpkin seeds and avocado.

this is blue cornbread

*I have a strange obsession with cornbread and am game to try almost ANY recipe. This was my first time using blue cornmeal, which gave the bread an interesting earthy undertone while also making it look quite ugly and unappetizing.
*Nevertheless, this blue quinoa cornbread, which I loosely adapted from a Candle Cafe recipe, still turned out delicious - full of whole grains and corn kernels. As long as the cornbread is not cakey or too sweet, I will probably like it and eat it. Long live cornbread.

this is the bringing forth of banana bread

*It’s the kind of smell that indicates there might be fruit flies nearby—the sickly sweet odor of over-ripeness you at once want to embrace, at least until the undertones of rot and flesh become apparent. Then the odor becomes too much for you—too permeating, really—and you want to push it away. But when I was greeted with this smell after returning to our kitchen after a weeklong vacation in New York, I was overjoyed. This is the smell I had been waiting for, for nearly two weeks: the smell of ripe bananas.

*Banana bread requires one of two personality traits: patience or forgetfulness. The forgetful opportunist finds blackened bananas hidden behind the fruit bowl—bananas she forgot to eat a week ago—and decides that the only way to prevent wastefulness is to make banana bread. The banana bread-lover, whose heart is intently set on making—and then consuming—only the most delicious banana bread—must be patient, and let day after day pass as yellow-green skin accumulates brown speckled patches. And she, the banana bread-lover, knows when the bananas are ready by smell, look, and touch. All of these carry pitches that are fine-tuned with time, and when the bananas are ready, they are bursting and buzzing with good vibrations.



*In describing how the experience of hunger refined the precision and specificity of her cravings, Gabrielle Hamilton writes in her memoir, Blood, Bones, and Butter, “Each craving became fanatically particular. Hunger was not general, ever, for just something, anything to eat. My hunger grew so specific I could name ever corner and fold of it. Salty, warm, brothy, starchy, fatty, sweet, clean and crunchy, crisp and watery, and so on.” As someone who loves the raw materials of cooking as much as the experience of eating, I know the exact flavors and textures I want to taste in my mouth. Banana bread is such a classic and basic quickbread that to me, it is essentially a blank canvas. There are endless recipe variations and no one perfect formulation because everyone likes a different kind of banana bread. I like my banana bread dense and moist—almost like bread pudding—with a little texture but not too crumbly. I like the overwhelming taste of bananas—so much that I want my bread to taste purely of bananas, and not of vanilla extract or cinnamon. But I want to encounter chocolate and nuts while eating—accents that complement but do not disturb—and I like my banana bread to sit heavily in my mouth and my stomach. I like spreading honey and butter on top, so my banana bread cannot be too sweet, and I like slicing it thickly, so it must hold together well—nothing fluffy or airy for me.



*I set to work in the kitchen with only basic ratios in mind. I peel and mash the ripe bananas, I pull out my green olive oil and drink it from a spoon before pouring it into the batter. I add in blue cornmeal and almond flour because I like their gritty tastes, and then some chocolate chips and pecans. My banana bread is a product of both my desires and whatever sits in my pantry. The dumping and the mixing and the mashing—it is all a slow rhythm that feels loose and indulgent. I do a crossword puzzle while it bakes, and in the last ten minutes before the bread is done, I start making espresso on the stovetop, heating up some milk alongside. Then, when it is all done—the bread cooled, the espresso ready and poured into a bowl, I sit and eat my banana bread with a fork and slurp my café au lait like soup. Nothing—absolutely nothing—is more luxurious than this.