Watercolor Cookies

While I was fiddling around with the finicky royal icing Sunday morning, I kept thinking about how I used to make Christmas cookies with my mother. She did all of the hard parts--not letting the cookies get too golden in the oven, making sure the pesky royal icing wasn't too loose or too stiff. All I had to do was decorate (and taste test, of course).

I kept thinking, too, about how I'd like to do the hard parts for my children one day. And hoped that they would one day with theirs, the way these things get passed down, if we're lucky.
 

My mom and I made a lot of cookies together, but never watercolor cookies. As someone who loved to paint, I think she would have had fun with these. They're a little more free spirited than your average Christmas cookie.

As most of you know, I try to use local/organic/natural etc etc as much as possible when I cook. So I was planning to make my own nontoxic plant-based food dyes with beets, carrots, turmeric, spinach and berries. But I ran out of time (next year, perhaps?). Instead, I pulled out the same old gel colors my mom used to use. They last forever and stain your hands and I'm sure they're all kinds of toxic, but it's once a year, right?
 

These cookies take some time to make, so plan to hunker down on a chilly December Sunday. While you're at it, why not recruit some helpers (big or small) and turn it into a holiday party?

Wishing you peace and joy this holiday season.
 

Watercolor Sugar Cookies

1 batch sugar cookies, recipe follows
Royal icing, recipe follows
Food coloring
Almond extract
Small paintbrushes
Paint palette

Add water by the teaspoon to the icing and stir until slightly runny. Transfer the icing to a wide shallow dish.

Dip the cookies into the icing and shake to smooth. Place on a rack and let the icing set, at least 2 hours.

Fill palette wells with some lemon extract. Add a small amount of food coloring using a toothpick. Paint onto cookies. Let dry.

Sugar Cookies
Adapted from Rhoda Boone

2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 teaspoon kosher salt
2 sticks unsalted butter
1 cup sugar
1 teaspoon almond extract
1 large egg

Sift together the flour and salt in a bowl.

Place the butter and sugar in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Beat on medium speed until light and fluffy, scraping down the bowl once, about 3 minutes. Add the almond extract and egg and beat until combined. With the mixer on low speed, gradually beat in the flour mixture until just combined.

Turn the dough out and divide into two balls. Press the balls into discs, wrap with plastic wrap and chill for 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Place racks in the upper and lower third of the oven.

Pull out one of the discs and let it warm up for a minute or two. Flour a work surface and rolling pin. Roll out the dough to a little less than a 1/4-inch thick round. Cut shapes and transfer them to 2 ungreased baking sheets. Refrigerate for 15 minutes. Repeat with the remaining disk. (You can collect the scraps, chill and reroll once.)

Bake, rotating half way through until the cookies are just turning golden at the edges, about 10 minutes.

Let cool for a few minutes on the sheets, then transfer to racks to cool completely.

Royal Icing
Adapted from Ree Drummond

One 1-pound box powdered sugar, sifted
3 large egg whites, at room temperature

Place the sugar and egg whites in the bowl of stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachement. Mix on low speed until combined. Beat on medium speed until stiff, glossy peaks form, about 5 minutes. Press plastic wrap on the surface until using.

Free Apples

One of the things that has struck me most about the start of our new life here has been the generosity of our neighbors.

The day I was moving in, I heard a loud knock knock! I ran to the door, nearly tripping over the boxes. Greeting me at the door were two unfamiliar but smiling faces: neighbors, just stopping by to say hello and give me a giant maitake (hen of the woods) mushroom they had foraged on local conservation land.

The next day, another neighbor stopped by. He had helped do some of the renovations on the inn several years ago and wanted us to know we could call him if we ever had a problem.

Then, just before our first wedding guests arrived, a friend (and now neighbor) dropped by with a beautiful arrangement for the bride she had made with the last of this year's flowers from her garden.

Since then, we’ve met many other neighbors. While the generosity hasn’t always been as tangible as mushrooms and flowers, it’s been just as meaningful—a warm welcome, an offer of time, shared stories over a cup of tea.
 

As we were driving north last weekend, we passed a farm with a sign that read: FREE APPLES. They weren't our neighbors, but the spirit was there.

We pulled over onto the side of the road. Stuart shook the tree while I filled a bag to the brim with apples. They were bruised and mottled. Good, I thought, they hadn't been sprayed. I took a bite—crisp, sweet, tart. Perfectly imperfect.

I knew as I was collecting the ugly apples that I would turn them into a beautiful French apple tart. I invite you to make this apple tart and share it with your neighbors, as I will with mine.
 

French Apple Tart

Crust adapted from Bouchon Bakery; tart adapted from the International Culinary Center

Crust:
8 tablespoons cold butter, cubed
3 ½ tablespoons confectioners’ sugar
¼ teaspoon almond extract
1 egg, beaten
1 cup all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
¼ cup almond flour

Apple compote:
4-5 large apples
½ lemon
50 grams sugar
30 grams water

Topping:
2-4 large apples
½ lemon
Melted butter, for brushing

Glaze:
100 g apricot jam
20 g water

For the crust: Add the butter and sugar to the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Beat at medium speed until light and fluffy, about 1 minute. Add the almond extract and egg and mix until combined. With the mixer running, add the flours and mix until the dough just comes together. Turn out the dough and form it into a disk. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least an hour or overnight.

Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.

Roll the dough out on a floured surface into a circle about 1/6-inch thick. Roll the dough over the rolling pin then lay over a fluted tart pan with removable bottom. Gently press the dough into the sides. Roll the rolling pin over the top to cut of excess dough. Prick the dough all over with a fork. Line the crust with parchment paper, then fill with beans or pie weights. Blind bake for 25 minutes. Remove the beans and paper and let cool.

For the compote: Peel, halve lengthwise and core the apples, rubbing with lemon as you go to prevent discoloration. Dice the apples and place them in a large saute pan. Add the sugar and water, then cover with a parchment paper lid with a hole cut out of the middle.

Cook over medium heat until the apples release their juices. Remove the lid and cook until the mixture softens, stirring frequently. It won’t be smooth and there will be chunks. This is OK. Let cool.

For the topping: Peel, halve lengthwise and core the apples, rubbing with lemon as you go to prevent discoloration. Slice the apples horizontally very thinly, about 1/8-inch thick.

For the glaze: Place the jam and water in a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until the jam melts.

To assemble and cook the tart: Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Fill the curst about ¾ of the way up with compote. Arrange the apples overlapping around the tart. Be sure to keep them close together as they will shrink as they cook. Create a rose in the center of the tart.

Brush the apples with butter. Bake until the apples are soft and beginning to turn golden on the edges, about an hour.

Transfer the tart to a cooling rack and brush the top with the glaze.

Serve with a dollop of creme fraiche.

Holding On

I know, I know. Fall is here. There are sweaters and pumpkins and chilly breezes. But wait! Summer produce is still here!

My acupuncturist/healer friend says that just as the leaves are letting go of their leaves, we, too, should be letting go of what we don’t need for the winter ahead. I’m sure she’s right.

But…those…tomatoes!

So while I’m working on letting go on a spiritual level (or planning on it, Aimée, I swear!), culinarily, I’m still deep into summer and have no plans of budging until the product tells me otherwise.
 

As some of you know, S and I are moving to Maine. Actually, we’re right in the middle of that process now. Perhaps that’s why I’m having trouble letting go of anything. I’ve got one foot in NYC and one in Maine. I’m still working for Food Network, but I’ve started working here. I’m driving back and forth and I’m still up to my ears in boxes.

So. Much. Transition.
 

S and I just had our first guests at the Inn: a lovely young couple celebrating their wedding/honeymoon anniversary. I guess you could call it a honeymooniversary. Anyway, we were delighted that they were game for our first seasonal tasting menu.

It was a fun, festive affair that involved the last of the summer tomatoes, but also the first of the winter squash. I guess you could say the meal, too, had one foot in each season. It all began with an amuse bouche of cherry tomato tartlets.

It was the perfect little bite to start our first meal and our new life here.

Cherry Tomato Tartlets

24 cherry tomatoes
Extra-virgin olive oil
Kosher salt
1 roll prepared puff pastry, thawed
Creme fraiche or sour cream
1 large clove garlic, minced
Flaky salt
Tiny basil leaves

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Toss the tomatoes in a little olive oil and sprinkle with kosher salt.

oll out the puff pastry in a large rectangle. Cut out 3-inch circles with a pastry cutter (or cookie cutter or drinking glass). Press the dough lightly into mini muffin cups.

Place a small spoonful (about 1/2 teaspoon) of creme fraiche n the bottoms of the cups. Place a tiny bit of minced garlic on the cream. Add a cherry tomat to each cup.

Bake until puffed and golden, about 20 minutes. Brush the tomatoes with a little more olive oil. Sprinkle with a little flaky salt. Top with the basil leaves.

Let cool slightly, then unmold.

Mother's Day

I'm writing to you from up in Maine where the warmer seasons unfold a little slower than they do down in the city. This means I'm getting to enjoy peak spring in full swing all over again. What a treat.

I'm also getting to celebrate mother's day in my mom's cabin. I only wish she could be here too, walking on Popham Beach with me, foraging for goodies, and cooking up a storm with Billie Holiday playing in the background.

She would love all of the beautiful ingredients that are showing up in markets, gardens and forests. This weekend I've been lucky enough to find ramps, fiddleheads, asparagus and rhubarb. I've also brought along some morels we had left over from work (a really nice perk!).
 

So far I've cooked the asparagus with soft-scrambled eggs, fresh cream, and chives, grilled the fiddleheads on a cedar plank, and coaxed the rhubarb into an oat crisp. I cooked the rhubarb crisp on the grill, too. (I love to cook with fire up here, even more so since I can't in the city.)

The recipe I'd like to share with you today is one I made up to showcase the ramps, morels and gorgeous eggs with deep orange yolks I got from Sparrow Farm. 
 

First, I pickled the ramp bulbs to add a zippy note to the dish and to preserve the extra bulbs since ramp season is so fleeting (just a few weeks). 

Next, I sauteed the morels and ramp leaves in butter, then spooned them into tiny cast iron skillets. I cracked an egg on top, splashed a spoonful of fresh cream, then popped them in the oven.

A sprinkle of salt and pepper, and a few slices of pickled ramps are all I needed to finish the dish. I served it with a big green salad and slices of toasted porridge bread from Hootenanny Bread (such a great name for a bakery).
 

Just a quick note: Don't worry if you can't find morels or ramps. This dish would be just as lovely with any kind of mushrooms you have on hand, and spinach in lieu of ramps. You might try pickling some shallots, too.

Happy mother's day to all of the mothers out there, those who are with us and those who are not.

Baked eggs with ramps and morels

2 tablespoons butter, plus more for greasing
1/4 pound ramps, bulbs and leaves separated (substitute spinach and shallots)
1/4 pound morel mushrooms (substitute other mushrooms)
4 eggs
4 tablespoons cream
Salt and pepper

Slice the ramp bulbs into coins and quick pickle them for about an hour. For a good basic pickling liquid, see here.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Grease 4 individual cast-iron skillets with butter. (Ramekins would work well, too.) Place the skillets or ramekins onto a baking sheet.

Melt the butter in a medium skillet over medium heat. Add the morels and cook until soft, about 5 minutes. Add the ramps and cook until wilted, a few minutes more. Season with salt and pepper.

Divide the morel-ramp mixture among the skillets, reserving a few morels and ramps for finishing the dish. Crack an egg into each skillet. Splash a tablespoon of cream to each. 

Bake until the whites are just set, but the yolks are still runny, about 10 minutes. Scatter the remaining morels and ramps. Sprinkle with some pickled ramp bulbs and salt and pepper. Serve hot with toast and a green salad.

Transition

The days grow warmer and lighter, coaxing tulips and daffodils into bloom. Familiar signs of spring's arrival. But some cold days and bare branches still linger. It's up and down, back and forth. A constant reminder of a season in transition.

During this time, I find myself drawn to spring's first greens--ramps, asparagus, radishes, peas. But I'm also still relishing cooler weather and comforting flavors.

This dish reflects that transition. It captures our eagerness for spring with green peas (three kinds!), but tempers it with warm, hearty pasta and a kiss of cream.
 

As you may know by now, I'm always looking for ways to use every part of the vegetable, meat or fish I'm cooking. To that end, I've developed a simple pea stock made from the pods that would otherwise be discarded. It not only reduces waste, it reinforces the green pea flavor of the dish.

Pancetta makes an appearance since they pair so well with peas (and who doesn't like a little pork belly?). But the meat is more of a seasoning; it's certainly not the main affair. And you can simply leave it out for a vegetarian version.

I garnish the dish with thin little ribbons of mint, a classic combination with peas. The pansies add beauty, but reinforce the fresh, minty flavor, too.

At the very end, I stir in some lemon juice and sprinkle of lemon zest to brighten up the dish.

It's a little bit of spring, in a bowl. I hope you enjoy.
 

Spring Pea Pasta

1/4 pound snow peas, cut into diamonds
1/4 pound sugar snap peas, thinly sliced on the bias
1 cup fresh or frozen shelled peas
1 pound orechiette
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 pound pancetta, thinly sliced and roughly cut into 1/2-inch pieces
1 small shallot, minced
1 cup pea stock (recipe follows)
1/2 cup cream
Juice and zest of 1 lemon
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
Mint, chiffonade
Pansies or other edible flowers

1. Bring a large pot of heavily salted water to a boil (it should taste salty like the sea). Fill a large bowl with ice water and set next to the pot. Using a colander or pasta basket, cook the snow peas and sugar snap peas until crisp tender, about 2 minutes. Plunge into the ice water bath to stop the cooking, drain, and set aside. If using fresh shelled peas, cook them for 1 minute, then plunge into the ice water bath, drain, and set aside.
2. In the same pot of water, cook the pasta until al dente and drain, reserving a cup or so of the pasta cooking water.
3. Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the pancetta and cook until golden, about 5 minutes. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the pancetta to a plate and set aside. Reserve the fat in the pan.
4. Add the shallot to the skillet and cook until soft, about 1 minute. Add the pea stock and cream and cook for a few minutes until reduced and thickened a little. Add the peas, pancetta, pasta and 1/2 cup of the cooking water to the skillet and stir to coat the pasta. Add more cooking water if needed. Stir in the lemon juice. Season with salt and pepper.
5. Scoop into bowls and sprinkle with the lemon zest, mint and flowers.

Pea Stock

1 onion, chopped
1 carrot, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
Shells from 1/4 pound shelling peas (about 2 cups)

1. Place the vegetables in a pot and cover with water. Bring to a boil and simmer for 1 hour. Strain through a fine mesh strainer.