Want to know how to dye Easter eggs using food?
Step One:
Step Two:
Step Three:
Over at the Portland Farmers Market website, I divulge the secrets of dying Easter eggs using produce. Read all about it right here.
Last year: Strawberry Cream Tart in a Gingerbread Crust
Many years ago, I was a longtime subscriber to Esquire Magazine. This was while I was also a longtime subscriber to the New Yorker, as well as a subscriber to both Harper’s and the Atlantic. For those of you counting, that totals four magazine subscriptions, one of which is a weekly with which, as I have mentioned before, I have an extremely difficult time keeping current. In an effort to stop the ominous growth of the pile of unread magazines growing higher and higher each month, like bricks in the wall of my own magazine prison, I had to start letting magazine subscriptions lapse. Esquire was the first to go.
It’s not that I didn’t appreciate Esquire. It’s just that, overall, the other magazines in my arsenal happened to speak more clearly to my own interests and concerns. I showed an at least passing interest reading about mail-order meat, or the intricacies of what men think about what women think about underpants, or $12,000 suits made to order by a 75 year-old tailor in Italy, but it’s just that Esquire seemed to contain content that I found interesting, say, 50% of the time, whereas the other magazines I received tended to hover around a more respectable 70%-90%. This is not a slam against Esquire, of course. I am clearly not in their target demographic, so our parting was really just a matter of time.
There is, however, one item from Esquire for which I will be forever grateful. About five years ago, Ryan D’Agostino wrote an article for Esquire about his favorite recipe, written on a slip of German hotel stationery, that he carries around in his wallet. It was a simple recipe for pancakes, but it was also D’Agostino’s signature recipe, the one he made at a friend’s vacation house, and the one he made for his wife before she was his wife. The pancake recipe was simple, but surefire. And I am here to attest that, without fail, they are indeed the best pancakes I have ever eaten.
Taking a cue from D’Agostino, I cut out the picture of his recipe and put the slip of paper in my own wallet. I have made his pancakes while on vacation, while visiting family, and while camping (I just put the liquid ingredients in one container, the dry in another, then combine them when breakfast calls—which is another point I’d like to make: these pancakes, cooked in a cast iron pan over a campfire? Unbeatable). I have at least seven other cookbooks with basic, no-frills pancake recipes in them, and not one of those other recipes even comes close to being as perfect as this one. For a recipe gleaned from a magazine I stopped receiving two or three years ago, that’s a pretty good track record. I can’t say I’ve gotten that much mileage out of that one article I read in the Atlantic about Mexican drug cartels but, you know, there’s still time.
Last Year: Black Bread Rolls and Food for Traveling
Esquire Pancakes Recipe
Adapted from Ryan D’Agostino in Esquire
Keen observers will note that the one change I have made in D’Agostino’s recipe is in regard to the amount of sugar in the pancakes. I prefer a less-sweet pancake, so I make these with 2 teaspoons of sugar, rather than D’Agostino’s suggested 2 tablespoons. You can use whichever you please, to no ill effect.
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
2 ½ teaspoons baking powder
2 teaspoons sugar
¾ teaspoon salt
1 large egg
1 ¼ cups milk
3 tablespoons melted butter
Combine dry. Beat egg. Combine wet. Mix wet into dry. Stir until barely mixed. Can be doubled, tripled, etc.
Cook pancakes, ¼ cup of batter at a time, on a well-oiled or seasoned skillet set over medium low heat. Flip pancakes when bubbles on surface begin to pop, and the edges of the pancakes are just beginning to appear dry.
Top with maple syrup or lemon yogurt.
Makes 8 pancakes of medium-large size.
There is a fine line between being the sort of neighbor that people love, and the sort of neighbor that people hate. When my parents’ moved into their current house, they took the place of an older couple who had been living in the neighborhood for the better part of twenty years. My parents have been told, more than once, that the previous owners took it upon themselves to, every week, remind everyone in the neighborhood when it was the eve of garbage day, and that they just wanted to make sure everyone took their garbage and recycling to the curb. This story is always relayed to my parents with the sort of bemusement that borders on teeth-gritting repression of irritation. Every week. They told us every week.
In my neighborhood, I fear I am becoming the sort of neighbor who is fast becoming a favorite of children, but perhaps not the favorite of parents. What with the amount of baking and recipe testing I engage in, I tend to have a lot of baked goods left over at the end of my experimenting. Sometimes, I don’t feel like eating cake for three days in a row (not always, but sometimes), so I pawn my freshly baked treats off on the people around me, including my neighbors and their children. My handouts have, thus far, been greeted with open arms, but I sometimes wonder if, in a short time, I will begin to receive a greeting not unlike that of the previous owners of my parents’ house. Oh. More baked goods. Again. Yes. The children certainly are excited.
For the record, if I had a neighbor who was bitten by the urge to create a cake that was spiked with the nutty tones of brown butter and the deep flavor of brown sugar, I certainly wouldn’t hide when I heard my doorbell ring. And if that same neighbor was driven to top said cake with a creamy, buttery lid of vanilla bean-speckled frosting, well, I don’t think I’d be capable of doing anything other than starting a pot of coffee because, my friends, we’re going to be needing some reinforcements.
As for now, however, I am still solidly on the side of being positively greeted. There are, of course, should the situation change, always my husband’s co-workers to receive my gifted baked goods. Failing that (which, who are we kidding, is not a real possibility, since when was the last time you heard of co-workers turning down free treats?), there is always the staff of my son’s school. Basically, I’ve got a long list of recipients lined up, so, should I ever find myself saddled with baked goods aplenty, I think my neighbors will be safe. Whether being safe means, to them, being plied with baked goods or not, we’ll just have to wait and see.
Last year: Garden Spaghetti in a Lemon Butter Sauce
Brown Butter Brown Sugar Cupcakes with Vanilla Bean Frosting Recipe
1 stick unsalted butter, cut into pieces
1 ¼ cups plus 2 tablespoons cake flour (5.5 ounces total)
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
2/3 cup light brown sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 ½ teaspoons vanilla extract
¾ cup milk, at room temperature
In a medium saucepan or skillet set over medium heat, melt the butter, then allow to cook, stirring frequently, until it is brown and nutty colored. The butter will foam at first, then start to spatter, and then turn brown. Remove the butter to a small bowl, then place the butter in the refrigerator or freezer, stirring every five minutes, to firm up slightly to room-temperature consistency. You will want the butter to become creamy-textured, but not hard. This process can take anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Line a 12-cup muffin tin with paper liners.
In a medium bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt, then set aside.
In a large bowl or in the bowl of a stand mixer, beat the lightly chilled butter and brown sugar together until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, and then add the vanilla and beat for another minute or so until smooth and combined.
Mixing on low speed, beat in one third of the flour mixture, followed by half of the milk. Beat in half of the remaining flour mixture, followed by the remainder of the milk mixture. Add in the last of the flour mixture, then beat until just combined. Be sure to stir the bottom of the bowl with a spatula or spoon to make sure there are no errant clumps remaining.
Divide the batter evenly among the 12 cupcake liners. Bake on the middle rack for 15 to 20 minutes, until a cake tester or toothpick inserted into the middle of a cupcake comes out with just a few crumbs attached. Cool the cupcakes in the tin for at least 10 minutes, then turn out onto a wire rack to finish cooling completely.
Frost the cupcakes when they are completely cooled.
Vanilla Bean Frosting
10 tablespoons unsalted butter (1 ¼ sticks), softened to room temperature
1 teaspoon milk or cream
½ teaspoon vanilla extract
pinch of salt
1 vanilla bean
1 ¼ cups powdered sugar
In a large bowl, or the bowl of a standing mixer, beat together the butter, milk or cream, vanilla extract, and salt. Slit the vanilla bean in half lengthwise using a very small, sharp knife, then remove the seeds from the bean by scraping the knife lengthwise against the cut side of the bean, collecting the seeds on your knife as you scrape. Scrape both halves of the vanilla bean, placing the beans in the butter mixture.
Beat the butter mixture until creamy, then add the powdered sugar and beat on medium-high speed until fully incorporated and very fluffy, about 8 to 10 minutes.
Makes enough frosting for 12 cupcakes.
Savory Salty Sweet 