Freak Show!

 

These are the longest radish tails in the world.

For Dad

Q. When is a food blog not a food blog? 

A. On a Thursday, of course, when you're celebrating the birth of your favorite dad you ever had using photos that will make him really happy. 

Last One Standing

The Power of Love

Out of the Maize

Oh, cornbread, you little devil! You impossible little thing! I've spent years trying to get you just right. For some reason, it hasn't come so easily for me -- the perfect consistency, the perfect crumb...oh, and it should actually taste amazing, of course. Years and years of dry, sad, pitiful cornbread caused me to almost give up. I eventually discovered an exemplary box of cornbread mix, but I still wanted to make my own. I tried skillet cornbread, corn muffins, loaves, everything. It just was never outstanding. It wasn't, in fact, even ever good. It was tragic.

I'll cut to the chase, though. You know where this is going, don't you You've started drooling, right? You've got your pencil at the ready, anxious to jot down this very clever recipe? Excellent. So, yes, I've come upon the magic cornbread mathematics. I'm no longer lost! I have arrived! And I really want to share it with you.

Disclaimer: this is actually a very short, very simple, very easy recipe, but it looks L-O-N-G because I have made a lot of notes. So don't be turned off by the length. Much of it is just me babbling about specific cornbread ins and outs.

The Cornbread Solution

1/2 C unsalted butter
2/3 C sugar
2 eggs
1 C buttermilk*
1/2 t salt
1 C cornmeal**
1 C flour
1/2 t salt

*I don't really believe in buying buttermilk, unless I am going to use a gigantic quantity of it. My substitution alternative is a tablespoon on white vinegar added to a cup of milk (I wouldn't advise using skim milk here). Just stir it and then let it sit for five minutes or so before you use it in your recipe. It will thicken and sort of curdle -- that's exactly what you want.

**Use the best cornmeal you can find! It will make a difference! I have certainly used plain old Quaker cornmeal many times in this recipe, so don't feel like a total loser if that's all you can find, but try to use something of higher quality. I have been buying this killer stone ground cornmeal by Three Sisters Garden in Kankakee, Illinois -- for all you Chicagoans out there, you can get it at Green City Market or (I think) City Provisions. It's pretty much the most stupendous cornmeal ever.

Here's what you do.
Turn your oven on to 375 degrees.

Grease (with butter, spray, or, mmmm, bacon grease) a round or square 8" or 9" Pyrex pan. (I am so sorry to get all America's Test Kitchen on you here, but I have tried this recipe in a lot of different pans, and this is the kind that has worked best for me. Don't make it in a dark-colored aluminum pan; this will dry it out too much. A cast iron skillet might work, and it might not -- I've had mixed results. The thing that will work is muffin tins, either regular or baby size.)

Melt butter in a deep skillet. Remove from heat and stir in sugar. Quickly add eggs and beat with a fork until well blended. 

Combine buttermilk with baking soda and stir into mixture in pan. 

Stir in cornmeal, flour, and salt until well blended. Pour into pan.

Bake 20-30 minutes or just until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. (I'd suggest starting with 20 minutes and then keeping a VERY close eye on it. Overcooked cornbread is a bad, bad thing.)

Remove from oven and let cool on a rack. Dive in whenever you can't stand it anymore. Dress with salted butter. Eat as much of the cornbread as you can. It will be good tomorrow, but not as good as the day it was made.

A few more notes:

+If you use muffin pans, bake them for WAY less time. My baby muffins were done in 7 or 8 minutes!

+Remember that bacon grease I mentioned at the beginning? Well, you were frying bacon, weren't you? I'd suggest chopping up that bacon and adding it to your cornbread batter. There you go! Now that is a miracle. Oh, and you? You, little cornbread baker, you are a miracle as well.

I Have A Problem

 

Please don't dig around too much in the back of my cabinets.

Okay, well, do it if you must, but please keep an open mind. You're going to find a lot of these things.

It's my least favorite chore, washing out the peanut butter jars. The scraping! The oiliness! Woe is me!

So I return each empty one to the cabinet and move on to eating the peanut butter from the next full jar, and the next thing I know, I have a cabinet full of insanity and a year's worth of scrubbing to do. It's a horrible habit, the kind of horrendous act that, if my roommate or friend or spouse even dared to engage in this behavior, I would throw some sort of extremely unbecoming fit that would likely result in the criminal doing some serious time, involving but not limited to punishments such as being forced to eat the empty peanut butter jars. But me? I'm lucky. I get away with it for some odd and special reason. I feel pretty fortunate.

Here's the thing, though. This scrubbing, it's bad, but it's not terrible. It's the thinking about it that wounds me. Then the next thing I know, they're clean and fresh and hanging out in the recycling bin, looking up at me with lonely eyes, saying what took you so long?

Purple Heart

Sweets for a Queen

Lemon-Pistachio Biscotti

This recipe only makes about 2 dozen biscotti, so I would highly recommend doubling it. Or go crazy! Triple it! Quadruple it! You won't be sorry. I mean, after you eat the entire batch all by yourself in front of the television, eyes glazed over in cookie coma, staring blankly at a six-episode string of Golden Girls repeats, you might be sorry. But let's just not let it get to that point, alright? Alright.

1/3  cup  butter, softened
1/2  cup  sugar (use 2/3 cup if you like things a bit more sugary)
2  teaspoons  baking powder
1/2  teaspoon  salt
2  eggs
1  teaspoon  vanilla
2  cups  all-purpose flour
5  teaspoons finely shredded lemon peel (orange peel also works well)
1  cup unsalted pistachio nuts (you can also use slivered almonds)

1. Line 2 cookie sheets with parchment; set aside. In a large mixing bowl beat butter with an electric mixer on medium to high speed for 30 seconds. Add sugar, baking powder, and salt. Beat until combined, scraping sides of bowl occasionally. Beat in eggs and vanilla until combined. Beat in as much of the flour as you can with the mixer. Stir in any remaining flour and lemon peel. Stir in pistachio nuts.
2. Divide dough into 3 equal portions. Shape each portion into an 8-inch roll. Place rolls at least 3 inches apart on prepared cookie sheets; flatten slightly until about 2-1/2 inches wide. Sprinkle loaves with vanilla sugar or cinnamon sugar.
3. Bake in a 375 degree oven for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown and tops are cracked (loaves will only spread slightly). Keep a close eye on them during the end of the baking time! Cool on cookie sheet for 30 minutes.
4. Use a serrated knife to cut each roll into 1/2-inch slices. Place slices, cut sides down, on ungreased cookie sheets. Bake in a 325 degree oven for 8 minutes. Turn slices over and bake for 8 to 10 minutes more or until mostly dry and crisp. Transfer to a wire rack and let cool.

Arrange biscotti on a silver dish with a pot of tea and serve to your favorite queen. If your queen lives far away, send them to her in a box. Try not to send the pot of tea in the box. Queens do not like wet boxes of treats!