You’ll find her post here.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Lately, I’ve been looking for cupcake recipe books that range outside the parameters of children’s bake sales and birthday parties. Was there, I wondered, an adult cupcake cookbook? It didn’t take me long to find a few that have interesting cupcakes, including savory ones. This book, in particular, looked promising. It contains recipes for Lavender cupcakes, Orange and Poppyseed Cupcakes, Rosewater Cupcakes, Maple and Pecan Cupcakes, as well as the usual holiday sorts of confections.

This carrot and cardamom version appealed to me. It had all the appeal of carrot cake plus the promise of cardamom. However, I had to make a significant change to the recipe. I refused to buy self-rising flour. So, I substituted all-purpose flour and 1 teaspoon of baking powder for it. I couldn’t detect a difference. All in all, the cupcake tasted a little bland. Next time, more cardamom, a pinch of sea salt? The mascarpone worked very well.

Makes 12 regular sized cupcakes or 24 or more mini cupcakes

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

2/3 cup sunflower oil

2 eggs

grated peel of 1 unwaxed orange

seeds from 5 cardamom pods, crushed

Shadowcook: Next time, I’m going to increase the cardamom to 6 or 7 pods. And once again I used the Kohn Rikon ratchet mill to excellent effect.

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

1 1/2 cups self-rising flour

Shadowcook: I used instead 1 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour and 1 teaspoon of baking powder.

2 carrots, grated

Shadowcook: Use the small-holed side of the grater.

1/2 cup shelled walnuts or pecans, roughly chopped

to decorate:

2/3 cup mascarpone

finely grated peel of 1 unwaxed orange

1 1/2 teaspoons freshly squeezed lemon juice

1/3 cup confestioners’ sugar, sifted

a 12-cup cupcake pan, lined with paper liners

Preheat oven to 350.

Put the sugar in a bowl and break up using the back of a fork, then beat in the oil and eggs. Stir in the orange peel, crushed caradmom seeds, and ginger, then sift the flour into the mixture and fold in, followed by the carrot and nuts.

Spoon the mixture into the paper liners or silicone molds and bake in the preheated oven for about 20 minutes until risen and a skewer inserted in the center comes out clean. Transfer to a wire rack to cool.

To decorate, beat the mascarpone, orange peel, lemon juice, and sugar together in a bowl spread over the cupcakes.

I recently came across quite by chance a series called Les Petites Plats Français (Small French Plates), published by Simon & Schuster. The measurement are all metric, so I imagine this series was intended for a British audience. Because they were so cheap, I picked up this one, Sensational Cupcakes, and Meringue Magic — the kind of marketing that makes me want to retch — to draw upon for my contributions to the monthly drinks-and-nibbles party I attend. Of course, my new cookbooks provided me with the opportunity to acquire more cooking equipment (just what I need!). For the second time recently, Sur La Table has come through brilliantly for me. Not only did they have exactly the mini loaf pans I needed at an exceptionally reasonable price, I also found silicon molds for mini cupcakes, my preferred size for cocktail parties (but I couldn’t find a link to them on Sur La Table’s website).

Although the recipes produced only six mini loaves, those six go a long ways. Sliced, they are a good vehicle for cheese, bits of prosciutto, or a slice of fig. And from start to finish it took me about forty-five minutes to make them. Not bad, when you have to rush out the door for a party…

Preparation time: 10 minutes.

Cooking time: 30 minutes

Makes 4-6 mini cakes

2 eggs

70 ml (2 1/2 fl oz) olive oil

70 ml (2 1/2 fl oz) milk

140g (5 oz) plain flour, sifted

70g (2 1/2 oz) grated Gruyère cheese

1 teaspoon baking powder

50 g (scant 2 oz) Parmesan cheese, crumbled into large chunks

70 g (2 1/2 oz) grated Parmesan

6 peppercorns (black or Szechuan), ground to a rough powder

Shadowcook: Another reason to get the Kuhn Rikon ratchet mill at Sur La Table.

a handful of walnuts or pecans, roughly chopped

Preheat oven to 180 C / 375 F.

Grease your cake molds and dust with flour.

Shadowcook: I used olive oil.

In a bowl, lightly beat the eggs with the oil and milk. Add the flour, Gruyère cheese, both lots of Parmesan cheese, the ground peppercorns and the walnuts. Season with salt and stir togethewr. Add the baking powder.

As soon as you have stirred in the baking powder, divide the mixture between the molds and put in the oven straight away.

Cook for around 30 minutes. Towards the end of the cooking time, keep an eye on the cakes and prick with a skewer if they seem ready. If it comes out clean, the cakes are done.

Leave in tins to cool slightly before turning out.

Tip: You can also keep aside a quarter of the crumbled Parmesan cheese and sprinkle it on the mini cakes just before cooking.

A box of vegetables from Riverford Farm in Devon arrives every week at my home-away-from home in London. In the US, we would call RF a Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) company, in other words, a service that delivers organic produce to the homes of subscribers. The smaller scale of the United Kingdom allows Riverford to scale its operations closer to a nationwide enterprise than CSAs can do in the States. At least, people in southwestern, northern and midlands England are within a Riverford Farm’s range (as far as I can tell, only Kent in England is out of luck). The box that arrives with seasonal produce also includes attractively-printed, hole-punched recipes that subscribers can compile over time. After I tried a number of them when I had a chance to cook for myself in London, I knew I wanted their collection of recipes when it came out. The recipes are not particularly fussy, on the homey side, and substantial.

Imagine my pleasure when a copy of the newly published book arrived as a birthday gift not long ago. I dove right into the contents. Numerous dishes jumped right into my line of sight: Cabbage, Bacon, and Potatoes; Sausage Stew with Celeriac and Kale; Roast Saffron Potatoes with Almonds and Bay; Lamb Cooked in Milk and Fennel; Spaghetti with Fresh Tomatoes and Almond Pesto.

One drawback to the book, which is common among cookbook writers who stress seasonal ingredients in their cooking is that Riverford Farm has organized their recipes according to month. Nigel Slater’s wonderful Kitchen Diaries is similarly organized. There is no question that I tend to look through cookbooks in line with the season, but more often the gardener in me wants to thumb a book according to what I have on hand to eat from my garden. After all, seasonal produce here in northern California doesn’t match seasonal produce elsewhere in the U.S. much less in the UK. It seems short-sighted to assume one climate among a cookbook’s readership. But that’s a small cavil.

This recipe for spiced cauliflower was the first recipe I made from the book. Lately, all I desire for dinner is one simple dish and a glass or two of wine. The spices in this recipe gave me an opportunity to use another birthday gift, a brilliantly designed spice grinder that has quickly become an essential tool in my kitchen. The flavor of freshly ground spices surpasses spices already ground when you buy them. I’d never seen a spice mill like this one before a friend gave it to me. It’s made by Kuhn Rikon and available at Sur La Table for about $20. I’ve used it for all sorts of spices. My cooking friends don’t know yet that this Rachet Mill, as it’s called, is in their future. I like supporting companies that offer competition to Williams-Sonoma. Sur La Table may have stores all over the west coast, but I understand it still struggle for survival.

If I had had the energy to make basmati rice to eat with the cauliflower, I would have done so.

Serves 4-6

Shadowcook: HA! Sorry, I can down an entire medium-sized cauliflower. You can, too, no doubt.

1 tablespoon sunflower oil

15g (1/2 oz) unsalted butter

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1 teaspoon ground cumin

Shadowcook: If you buy one of the rachet mills I provided a link to above, then use whole seeds and grind right into the butter in the pan.

Pinch of turmeric

1 teaspoon brown mustard seeds

1 onion, thinly sliced

1 garlic clove, crushed

2cm (1/2 sq inch) piece fresh ginger, finely chopped

1 cauliflower, cut into florets

1 teaspoon caster (superfine, baker’s) sugar

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

1 tablespoon chopped coriander (cilantro) leaves

Heat the oil and butter in a pan large enough to hold the cauliflower in one layer. Add the spices, onion, garlic, and ginger to the pan. When the mustard seeds start to pop quickly add the cauliflower, stirring vigorously. Add the sugar, season well, cover and reduce the heat. Leave for 10 minutes on a gentle simmer. Cover, and check the cauliflower is tender. Stir again, cover, and remove from the heat and leave to finish cooking for 10 minutes in its own steam.

Shadowcook: Don’t overdo the sugar. And you’ll be surprised at the liquid generated by the ingredients. Just watch to make sure the spices don’t burn.

I plan to add a post about my recent two and a half weeks in England and Wales. Let’s just say for the moment that I ate very well. Nay, too well. In the U.S., we have much to learn from the sustainable and organic food scene there. At the same time, Britain is a cautionary tale. Rates of obesity are not on the decline in spite of a very lively organic food and cooking movement. Unfortunately, the flurry of errands and catch-up tasks that continue to fall on me ever since I arrived home have prevented me from devoting time to thinking about what I want to say.

In the meantime, my sister sent me a link to an interview Charlie Rose did with David Bouley, the Franco-american chef in NYC. It’s worth listening to in its entirety. He offers a fascinating way to think about the so-called fusion of ethnic cuisines. He made me even more determined to make an eating trip to Asia in the next few years — if I can afford it. Watch, you may get the urge, too.

Parenthetically, why do I feel a twinge of embarrassment for people being interviewed who look into the camera lens instead of the person interviewing them? Is it narcissism on their part? Or are they simply more candid about who really is the interlocutor, i.e. the viewer? Anyway, it bugged me but not enough to turn it off.

To watch the 33-minute video clip, click here.

Here’s another pasta and potato dish that suits the summer. No claims to originality here. This combination of ingredients can be found, I’m sure, in many other recipes. But, then again, how many combinations of basic refrigerator staples can there be? I open the door of the fridge, see a cauliflower that demands to be consumed before it grows mold, some pancetta or guanciale in the same condition, and a few fingerling pototoes in the straw larder. My options are limited, but fortunately I love the effect of combining these elements.

1. Preheat oven to 400.

2. Cut either a small whole cauliflower or half a medium-sized one into florets. Then halve or quarter them. Put the cauliflower pieces in a bowl. Pour in a slug of olive oil and stir to coat the pieces. Add salt and pepper. Line a baking sheet with aluminum foil. Spread the cauliflower around the baking sheet. Don’t crowd the pieces. Put in oven and roast for 15-20 minutes, or until the edges of the cauliflower turn brown and caramelized.

2. Put on a pot of well-salted water to boil. Measure 3 1/2 oz of orecchiette pasta and set aside.

3. Meanwhile, mince a big clove of garlic. Dice 1 or 2 oz pancetta, a strip of bacon, or guanciale. Cut into small cubes about 4 fingerling potatoes. Scrap the kernels off one ear of corn and set aside.

4. Sauté the garlic in a bit of oil in a medium sized skillet. Add the pancetta or bacon and stir so that the garlic doesn’t turn golden. After a few minutes, add the potato cubes and corn and continue sauteing.

5. When the cauliflower is done, scrap the pieces off the foil into the skillet.

6. Add 3 1/2 oz. orecchiette to the boiling water and cook for the recommended time minus 2 minutes. Scoop out the pasta with a slotted spoon or spider and dump the wet pasta right into the skillet. Turn up the flame. Add a touch of pasta water (not too much) — just to provide moisture to keep the pasta cooking. Attend closely, let the water evaporate, season as necessary.

7. Meanwhile, chop the parsley and cut 1 oz parmesan cheese to have it ready to grate at the end.

8. When the pasta has reached the degree of firmness you like and the water has almost entirely evaporated, tip the contents of the skillet into a pasta bowl, scatter parsley over it, and grate the cheese.

9. Eat.

10. Savor.

Sometimes I’m too tired to cook. But I do it anyway. On the rare occasion when I succumb to lethargy, I feel it’s a defeat. Why should living alone entail a less full life? Why shouldn’t I expect of myself a dinner at table? A life eating on the couch watching TV is a half-life and like all carbon-based things I feel my life seeping out of me when I do it. Reading and listening to music at the table is an ongoing commitment to making my single life as rich as I can. When I feel too tired to prepare a meal, I lower my expectations, but I don’t abandon them. Half the effort an ordinary weekday meal requires comes in figuring out what I want to eat.

So, here is a simple idea. I am enjoying adding diced potatoes the dishes I have always thought would be weighed down by additional starch. A little potato adds umami, another dimension to a dish. This one is a no-brainer.

First…

Dice half a chorizo link and four fingerling potatoes.  Scrape the kernels off one ear of corn. Pour 2 teaspoons of olive oil or lard in a small skillet over a medium-low flame. Add a minced garlic clove or two and a minced shallot. Let them soften in the fat. Then add the chorizo. Spread the chorizo out so that the pieces are not crowded. Leave them be for two or three minutes. Stir and let them be for another couple of minutes. Add the potatoes, stir, and let them brown with the chorizo. Add the corn, mix it all together. Season with salt and pepper. Put in a bowl and have with a small salad.

from Saveur, #110.

In most respects, I’m not squeamish. It’s true I might duck the opportunity to witness the slaughtering of an animal, but I’d be there soon after to watch the butchering. But ever since I read years ago a study of the contents of your typical can of tomato paste, I have reluctantly used it. “Fly larvae” is all I’ll say. Hence, the appeal of this recipe in Saveur a while back. Seemed very straightforward. And so it is.

The Amish Paste plum tomato plants in my garden are performing wonderfully. What a tomato! Where has it been all my life? Forget San Marzano, Roma, and the others. This baby beats them all for meat and flavor.

The one drawback of this recipe is the ratio of tomato to paste. It takes one pound of good, meaty tomatoes to render two tablespoons of paste. If you have a bumper crop of tomatoes, I figure it’s worth it. At the end of the long, slow bake, the paste tastes like candy. It was tempting to stand at the counter and eat it with a spoon, the paste was so sweet and tasty. But I didn’t and you shouldn’t. Do what I did and freeze it in 2-tablespoon amounts.

First of all, you have to make it…

5 pounds ripe plum tomatoes

1/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil

Kosher salt

A food mill

1. Heat oven to 300. Roughly chop tomatoes. Heat 1/4 cup of oil in a 12″ skillet over high heat. Add tomatoes and season lightly with salt; bring to a boil. Cook, stirring, until very soft, about 8 minutes.

Shadowcook: If you don’t have a food mill, you’re only choice is to blanch the tomatoes in boiling water for 30 seconds and removing the skins before you chop them. Then you can put them through the food processor in batches after  this step. But it’s good to have a food mill.

2. Pass the tomatoes through the finest plate of a food mill, pushing as much of the pulp through the sieve as possible, leaving the seeds behind.

3. Rub a rimmed 13″ X 18″ baking sheet with 2 tablespoons of olive oil; spread tomato puree evenly over sheet. Bake, using a spatula to turn the purée over on itself occasionally, until most of the water evaporates and the surface darkens, about 3 hours. Reduce heat to 250, cook until thick and brick colored, 20-25 minutes.

Shadowcook: The tomatoes became scorched in spots for reasons that were not clear to me. I recommend keeping an eye on the tomatoes and turning the pan around in the oven once or twice over the 3 hours. Actually, I liked the flavor of the char in the paste at the end. I let it roast for only 2 1/2 hours before turning it down. The paste was very caramelized by that point. The aluminum foil I lined the pan with was not just useless but also a pain in the ass to remove afterward.

4. Store sealed in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to one month, or freeze, wrapped well in plastic wrap, for up to 6 months.

Shadowcook: As you can see, I measured out 2 tablespoons on sheets of plastic wrap, folded them into packets and then put them all in one small ziplock plastic bag.

from Beyond the Great Wall: Recipes and Travels in the Other China, p. 67.

My resolve to go meatless during the week crashed into this recipe like tank into a brick wall. Oh, this recipe hit the spot. The crunch of the lettuce, the sweet and sour of the black vinegar-soy sauce, and the zing of the garlic-ginger-sesame oil notes combined beautifully. It’s a great recipe to throw together at the last moment for yourself. All you have to do is figure out your preferred ratio of lettuce to meat sauce. I urge you to consider 1/4 pound of the ground meat (half the amount that Alford and Duguid call for) with a bowlful of lettuce and the full proportion of sauce ingredients. You’ll find your own balance.

This book just gets better and better.

Here is the complete unadjusted recipe with my suggested adjustments…

Serves 4

About 4 packed cups coarsely torn romaine lettuce

Shadowcook: I used a combination of lettuces. As the authors note, “If you use romaine lettuce, the salad will have good crunch as well as some wilted softer leaves when you first serve it. We love the contrast. If you prefer a softer texture, either let the salad stand for 5 minutes before serving it, to give the greens more time to soften in the warm dressing, or use leaf lettuced instead of romaine.” Or, like I said, use a combination and get it to the table while it’s still very warm.

1 tablespoon minced ginger

1 tablespoon minced garlic

1/2 pound (1 packed cup) ground beef

Shadowcook: I used 1/3 pound ground pork. Next time I’ll use a little less. And I’ll have to try it with beef, but I have a feeling I’m going to prefer the pork.

1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste

1 tablespoon soy sauce, or to taste

1 tablespoon Jinjiang (black rice) vinegar, or to taste

Shadowcook: You can find this at any Asian market.

1/2 cup warm water

2 teaspoons cornstarch

1 tablespoon cold water

1/2 teaspoon roasted sesame oil

Place the lettuce in a wide salad bowl or serving dish and set aside.

Place a wok or heavy skillet over medium-high heat. When it is hot, add the oil and swirl to coat the bottom of the pan. Toss in the garlic and stir-fry for 10 seconds, then add the ginger. Stir-fry over medium-high to medium heat until slightly softened and starting to turn color. Add the meat and use your spatula to break it up so there are no lumps at all, then add the salt and stir-fry until most of the meat has changed color. Add the soy sauce and vinegar and stir to blend. Add the warm water and stir.

(The dressing can be prepared ahead to this point and set aside for up to 20 minutes. When you are ready to proceed, bring to a boil.)

While the dressing mixture is coming to a boil, place the cornstarch in a small cup or bowl and stir in the cold water to make a smooth paste. Once the liquid is bubbling in the pan, give the cornstarch mixture a final stir, add to the pan, and stir for about 1 minutes: the liquid will thicken and become smoother. Taste for salt, and add a little salt or soy sauce if you wish. Add the sesame oil and stir once, then pour onto the lettuce. Immediately toss the salad to expose all the greens to the hot dressing. Serve immediately.

Chandos Tacos, 863 Arden Way, Sacramento, CA, 916-641-TACO

I’ll drive a long ways for a good taco. Fortunately, I don’t have to drive far in northern California. Plenty of tacquerias and taco trucks put together some very tasty samples. But a really good taco is hard to find. At the moment, I’m in the frustrating position of having found a tacqueria that has mastered the meat but not the sauce and another tacqueria that has really good sauce but only adequate meat. A little taco-matchmaking is called for.

Chandos Tacos, owned and operated by the Madrigal family under the leadership of young Chandos Madrigal, really knows how to grill meat. They threw themselves a richly deserved first birthday party this weekend. I went with some friends to sample the $1 tacos (usually $1.75). We found a big crowd of other tacquistas already in line. To my everlasting shame, I ate seven tacos: 1 carnitas, 1 birria, 1 carne asada, 1 adobado, 1 tongue, and 2 fish tacos. The meat in all of them were what they should have been: crispy carnitas, tender tongue, smoky birria. My favorite, however, was the fish and the carnitas.

  My two reservations are the sauce they make and use and the seasoning. The sauce could be hotter; the meat could be better seasoned. Just a tad more salt, Chandos, please. Would you consult with whoever it is at La Favorita on Florin who makes the salsas? Other than those nitpicks, I love the tacos here.