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sticky fingers

Tonight was girls' night out. Our plan was a few bottles of wine, good food, and a chick flick. Courtney, our camp counselor for the evening , and I had attended KH Krena's art exhibit at the Alliance Francaise earlier in the week and I learned of her love for all things Italian, so I offered to make biscotti.

Granted, I did warn her that the last time I made biscotti was for a Thanksgiving dinner when someone sat down next to me and whispered, "Don't eat the cookies, they're hard as a rock." Heathen!

It has been a few years since I've baked biscotti, so it took me about an hour to unearth the right recipe. I recalled I used to make one almond version, and one chocolate hazelnut version. But which recipe was the right one? I would have to go by touch. Literally. I skimmed through some likely cookbook culprits, narrowed down my options based on ingredients and then felt my way through the pages to find one correct recipe. Bingo -- Biscotti di Prato -- dogeared and Post-it® flagged like many others, but most importantly, covered in a bas relief of my fingerprints, sticky with biscotti dough.

When I made the biscotti this morning, I remembered the immense stickiness of the biscotti dough and how I used to liberally flour my hands when shaping the logs for the first baking. I like the little bit of excess flour all over the logs, reminding everyone that the biscotti are homemade.

Tuscan almond biscotti

Adapted from Lou Seibert Pappas' Biscotti (recipe for biscotto de prato) and Nick Malgieri's Cookies Unlimited (recipe for Cantuccini - classic Tuscan biscotti). Both recipes mention that these are meant to be dunked into sweet wine or coffee and are a bit crispier than most Americans are used to (take that, "'hard as a rock'"). I attribute this crispness to the lack of shortning; these are on the lowish fat side, though they are still quite caloric. I used the Pappas proportions and toasting of the almonds, and the Maglieri cinnamon addition. The cinnamon flavor is not very strong -- it just gives a hint of extra "flavor texture" if there is such a thing. Or is this complexity?

Makes approximately 3 dozen

3/4 C sliced blanched almonds

3 eggs

1 t vanilla

2 C unbleached or all-purpose flour

7/8 C sugar

1/2 t cinnamon

1 t baking soda

dash salt

Preheat oven to 350°F

Toast nuts: place nuts on baking sheet in preheated oven for 6-8 minutes, checking frequently, until golden brown. Do not allow nuts to burn. Let cool.

Turn oven down to 300°F

In large bowl, combine dry ingredients. Make deep well in center and beat eggs with vanilla, then gradually incorporate dry ingredients into wet until well blended.

Add cooled almonds and mix in.

First baking: Line cookie sheet with parchment paper. If you don't have parchment paper, liberally grease and flour cookie sheets. Flour your hands, divide dough in half and pat dough into 2 logs about 1/2 inch thick, 1 1/2 inch wide, and 12 inches long. Make sure to space the logs at least 2 inches apart. Bake in middle of oven at 300°F for 50 minutes until golden brown.

Transfer from baking sheet to a rack and let cool for 5 minutes. NOTE: this is different from most other biscotti recipes that call for a full cooling after the first baking. With a serrated knife, slice logs diagonally into 1/2 inch slices.

Lower oven to 275ºF

Lay slices flat on cookie sheets (I usually find that I need 2 cookie sheets by this point) and return to 275ºF oven for 20-25 minutes, turning over once. Cool on rack.

Store cooled biscotti in tin or plastic container with tight-fitting cover.

Or wrap and give as a gift.

labo(u)r of love

One night last week, I woke up at 4 am and couldn't fall back asleep. I tried everything. I read the New Yorker by my bed -- yes ... I might live in Cambridge, but I still subscribe to the New Yorker, New York Magazine, the weekend New York Times ... you get the picture. I listened to my flying piggy music box. This was a gift from my dear friend Lau who lives in London and here is the picture I sent her a few years ago when the little piggy and I lived in my very NY apartment.

I've tried to load the video so I can share the music which just adds to the piggy charm, but I'm new at this techie thing and I just can't seem to make it work.

Back to sleepless in Cambridge...

... Despite all my best efforts, I couldn't fall back asleep, so ... I decided to bake.

Now, mind you, I am NOT a baker. Baking is chemistry, and I am no chemist. That poor unfortunate soul who was my lab partner in Orgo can attest to that! But, some things are really worth the effort, and at 4 in the morning, I needed to channel my inner chemist (?!?) to focus, relax, and help me get back to sleep. So, I made espresso shortbread. Well, I made the dough and then stuck it in the fridge to chill for a few hours while I went back to sleep.

Now, this might seem strange -- why would I make anything with espresso in it in the middle of the night if my goal was to go back to sleep? Well, for me, coffee is less about the caffeine and more about the ritual. Don't get me wrong, caffeine has an effect on me. But the real wake-up call is that first (and usually only) cup in the morning, the steam rising as I warm my always cold hands on the mug full of delicious. I only drink it cold when it's unbearably hot outside...and it's just not the same.

So, espresso is just another ingredient. Well, not just. It's an extraordinary ingredient. And in these shortbread, it magically gives a chocolate hint.

My take on baking is that if I'm going to bake, there is usually a special unique or unexpected ingredient that I want to showcase, and the experience - the process - really comes from the heart. That's the only way I can focus enough to actually follow a recipe exactly. When I made these shortbread, I used a birthday gift from Eva, the first and fastest friend I made up here in Boston. She just gets me.

My love affair with shortbread began in my early teens when I started babysitting for the same family almost every weekend. Penny was English, Medhat was Egyptian and I cared for their three children for five years, two of them from birth. One Saturday night, soon after "Weezy" had been born and Lilah was not yet tired of playing mommy, Penny left some fresh homemade shortbread on the counter. Now, until then my main exposure to shortbread was Walker's. Which is good, but can not compare to the melt-in-your-mouth deliciousness that is homemade. Penny apologized for leaving things out on the counter in a mess, but was in a rush and the shortbread had to cool. She told me to help myself to a few shortbread. And help myself I did. After I put the girls to sleep. And one more story. And a glass of water. And finally silence.

As any babysitter knows, this is the time to rummage around in the fridge, check out the pantry, and get a snack before settling down for an evening of homework and maybe a little TV, turned low. So, I had a bite of shortbread, plucked from the rack of now cooled little diamonds. Wow! I opened the fridge and saw a mound of dough, wrapped in plastic, and sitting in a bowl. Raw shortbread cookie dough. Enough said. I was hooked and kept stealing little nibbles by the spoonful, always carefully remolding the dough and tightly rewrapping the plastic. I couldn't eat very much or Penny would notice. Eating some chips is acceptable babysitter behavior. But raw dough...I don't think so. And Penny is a very proper British woman.

That night when I got home, I prepared my own version of shortbread dough ... to eat raw of course. I had noticed that Penny had left confectioners' sugar out on her counter, so I found some in our pantry, mixed it with a little flour and butter, mashed it all together with a fork in a little bowl, squished it to form a nice mound and didn't bother with the plastic because it wasn't going to make it to the fridge. Who has time to waste? I just pinched off little bites of delicious, melt in your mouth ... raw ... shortbread ... dough.

And for years, I made that little concoction when I wanted a little something sweet. It wasn't until I was all grown up and had my own apartment and started to entertain that it ever occurred to me to actually bake the shortbread.

Espresso Shortbread

Adapted from Claudia Fleming's The Last Course: The Desserts of Gramercy Tavern. The main substitution I make here is to use (parve) unsalted margarine instead of butter so I can serve them after eating meat. I know, I know ... the horror! If you made 2 batches, one with butter, one with margarine, and compared them side-by-side, I'm sure the butter would win. And I admit, these are not quite the same as Penny's. But, I like them just the same. This is definitely an adult cookie and they're worth the work...

Makes about 2 dozen.

1 C (2 sticks) unsalted margarine softened (or you can use butter...)

2/3 C confectioners' sugar

21 t vanilla extract

2 C all-purpose flour

1/4 C ground espresso -- make sure it is ground really fine (i.e., for an espresso maker).

1/2 t salt

Make the dough: With electric mixer and paddle attachment, beat margarine and sugar until creamy, approximately 2 minutes. Add vanilla and beat well. Turn to low speed and mix in dry ingredients - flour, espresso, and salt until just combined. The dough will be brownish-gray, a little sticky, and firm. Form dough into a disk, wrap in plastic wrap and chill for at least 2 hours. (It was at this point that I went back to bed at 5:30 am).

Preheat oven to 300°F.

Roll the dough between 2 sheets of wax paper or plastic wrap (keep the rest refrigerated) to 1/4 inch thick. I've never really been very good at measuring thickness -- so, if you can't measure 1/4 inch, the most important thing is to make sure that each batch you put in the oven is the same thickness so everything bakes evenly. If you've ever eaten Walker's shortbread -- the little sticks -- I think they're about 1/2 inch thick...so use your best judgment.

Cut the dough into diamond shapes. I find that using a pizza cutter is the easiest way to get straight, clean lines. Place diamonds on Silpat or parchment covered baking sheet (recipe says to use an ungreased baking sheet, but I prefer to cover).

[An aside: Most recipes including this one typically say not to re-roll the scraps, but honestly, unless you can eat all that raw dough...it's such a waste. The re-rolled shortbread might not be exactly the same consistency as the "originals" but I'm not going to tell anyone if you don't. I re-form any scraps into a mound, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for about an hour, then roll out the next batch.]

Prick the shortbread with a toothpick in the middle and bake until pale golden around the edges, 20-24 minutes.

Cool completely on a wire rack.

namaste...quick and easy

Yes, you guessed it…I’ve started going to yoga. I am officially a Cantabridgian. Granted, I still try to look like a ballerina in class, I can’t hold a single pose, and I giggle when the teacher says “namaste,” but I do enjoy it and feel great afterward. After class a few weeks ago, I wanted to extend the healthy glow and was super hungry, but had virtually no vegetables in my fridge except for an almost full bag of shredded carrots a week past their use by date. They looked fine, showed no growth, and were not slimy at all. I figured I could turn them into a soup. I’m sure some of you out there are already horrified and will never eat in my home again, but come on….there are starving children somewhere in the world, this was much better than eating Ben and Jerry’s straight from the container, and I wouldn’t run this type of risk for guests. Moving on.

I checked out C&Z and searched for “carrot soup”– Clotilde had a recipe for carrot-mint soup and one of the comments mentioned replacing the mint with coriander. This sounded like a good starting point. I played around a bit and here’s what I came up with. It was great and will definitely reappear on my table for guests (with fresh carrots…).



Carrot-Coriander-Cilantro Soup

Inspired by Chocolate & Zucchini’s Soupe de Carotte a la Mente. I consider this a quick and easy meal because except for chopping the onion, there is virtually no prepping required, and everything is in one pot. The only major clean-up is the pot, your immersion blender, and a few utensils.

Serves 4 as starter or 2 as main

2T olive or vegetable oil
½ onion (red or white), chopped
1-2 t garlic, minced (1-2 cloves)
1 T coriander
~10 oz bag shredded carrots (can also use baby carrots or large peeled and cut carrots)
Ersatz chicken broth mix + 5-6 C water (or chicken or vegetable broth) - I use Osem brand but it does contain MSG
1.5 T chopped cilantro*
1 T lemon juice (optional)
Salt and pepper to taste


Heat oil over medium heat; saute onion and garlic in oil until translucent

Add coriander; stir and heat until coats onion/garlic mixture and becomes fragrant – approximately 5 minutes

Add carrots and stir frequently until begin to soften, approximately 10 minutes

Add enough broth to cover carrots and at least 1 inch (if using ersatz chicken broth, don’t worry too much about mixing with powder beforehand)

Bring to boil, then turn down heat and simmer for ~15 minutes until carrots soften. If using larger carrots, this might take longer; when carrots are soft, use immersion blender to puree, but allow some chunks to remain

Remove from heat and add cilantro, lemon juice if using, and salt and pepper to taste (may not need salt if using ersatz chicken broth powder); serve hot *

I keep chopped herbs in my freezer so they are ready to use in soups and other dishes. If my basil or mint plant is overgrown, or I have bought too much, I chop up the herbs, wrap in plastic in a roll so it is easy to measure by eye, and then store in a freezer bag. When I want to use these “fresh” frozen herbs later, they defrost really quickly, especially when dropped in a pot of soup.

"Non Pensare, Fare"

I have been writing content for this blog for several months, have told scores of friends about this endeavor, have been cooking and baking and trying to take pictures of my experiments, but have put off actually "going live." I'm not sure what I've been waiting for.

I made the decision to pull together all of my recipes and cooking adventures and travel after meeting Clotilde Dusoulier in Paris last November for a book reading and signing. If you don't know who she is, you should. She writes Chocolate & Zucchini (she's at the top of my list of favorite blogs...check out her French "edible idioms" if you love the French language as much as I do), and everything I have ever made from her site and cookbooks has turned out well. Coming from me, that's saying a lot. At the signing, she suggested using a blog, at the very least, as a way to keep track of your recipes and maybe to eventually share them with the world. She signed one of her books to me: "Pour Gayle - le bonheur est dans la cuisine! Clotilde" -- "happiness is in cooking/the kitchen." More on Clotilde later, but suffice it to say that my time in France has led to many memorable experiences.

A year and a half ago, I spent about a month taking dance classes in Paris and Nice. At a later time, I'm sure I'll write about the amazing food I ate, the (mostly positive) reactions I got to wearing a Jewish star the whole time, but right now, I'm going to focus on the issue at hand and some words of wisdom I received from one of my dance teachers in Nice. I was taking a jazz and tap dance atelier (workshop) at OffJazz that taught me so much more than dance. Given the world renown of the the school as well at its amazing location, students came from all over Europe and the world to train with Gianin Loringett and other teachers. (I hung out with people from London, Paris, Cannes, Prague, the Hague, Denmark, Brazil, and Cuba, and have gone back to visit a few dancers in their home cities.) What I found amazing, besides the instruction, was Gianin's ability to switch seamlessly from one language to another. I consider myself lucky to speak passable French, but this guy is amazing. Our last week, we had several Italian students in one of our classes and as Gianin was demonstrating some steps, he stopped and stared at one dancer standing back and watching rather than practicing and yelled out, "Non pensare, fare." For the rest of us whose common language was English, he translated as only he could: "If you sit around and think and wait, the train will leave you at the station."

So there we go. I've started my blog. I'm on the train. And since this is about food, I guess I need to post at least one yummy picture. So, here is an authentic salade nicoise from, yup...you guessed it, Nice.