A Foodie in the Emerald Isle What’s cooking? Sticky Toffee Pudding

You can never tell what you’ll learn when you’re not looking. Take Ireland, for instance. My Prince and I took a trip there in August, and I must confess that my mood at the outset was a bit dark. Ireland wasn’t in my top 10 of where-do-you-want-to-go-this-year, but we’d signed up for the gig because our long-time travel friends wanted to go, and they’d done all the research, and we always have fun on trips with them. Then at the last minute, they had to cancel because of a health crisis. So there we were, locked into a two-week trip I didn’t want to take with a bunch of people I didn’t know. On a bus. Call me spoiled, but there it was.

Well, the tour turned out to be a Tauck Tour, and if you haven’t done one, put it on your list. To anywhere. They run like clockwork, stay in the most amazing places you can imagine, and offer incredible service from start to finish. Suitcases move as if by magic from the bus to your room and back to the bus, local guides offer knowledgeable and entertaining insights to the culture, and even the bus is astonishingly comfortable. Moreover, our fellow travelers turned out to be delightful. I won’t claim to have made friends with them all, but the group got along remarkably well, and quite a few of them were really fun.

The Place

Yes, it turns out that Ireland is stunningly beautiful. Rolling green hills of farmland, rugged coastlines, charming country towns, vistas that take your breath away (from one spot, we could see Scotland!), and a splendid assortment of ruins from as far back as the 12th century. Oh, and sheep. Lots of sheep. And one shepherd.

Did I mention the falcons? Yes, sirree. At Ashford Castle, where we stayed two nights.

Here's a small sample of other sights, including the Giant’s Causeway, a 60 million year-old geologic wonder shaped by the cooling and shrinking of volcanic lava flows.

Dunluce Castle, where local legend has it that at one point (probably early 18th century), part of the kitchen next to the cliff face collapsed into the sea, after which the owner’s wife refused to live in the castle any longer. (Who can blame her? Certainly not the Kitchen Goddess.)

And the view at Aghadoe Heights, where we spent another two nights, overlooking Loch Leane near Killarney.

The Food

The most eye-opening part of the trip was the food. Yes, I know, Ireland and good food aren’t a combo in anyone’s mind. But according to one of our delightful guides, Ireland has discovered tourism, and nothing these days brings tourists like good food. So we feasted on every kind of fish and shellfish – it’s an island, you know – as well as lamb and pork and game and... oh, my. By the time we climbed on the plane to fly home, the Kitchen Goddess was having a hard time fastening her jeans.

And then there were the breads and desserts. Oh, please. I’d been told by a foodie friend to try the Sticky Toffee Pudding, and it turned out to be a specialty of several places where we dined. One in particular, The Bushmills Inn in County Antrim, in Northern Ireland, was generous enough to give us their recipe. At least, they said it was their recipe. The Kitchen Goddess has made that recipe and has her doubts. But the Kitchen Goddess is also persistent, and has found a more than acceptable alternative, which you will find below.





The Dessert

Friends, this is not a dish for dieters. It’s rich and completely scrumptious, so also very hard to resist. The Kitchen Goddess had to give most of hers away to neighbors, just to get them out of the house. But it’s a great dessert for the holiday season – the dates and molasses really resonate as fall flavors.

A couple of other thoughts about this recipe. First, it’s not really an Irish dish. The origins – according to Wikipedia – are more English, and ultimately Canadian. But it’s now made extensively in England and Ireland, so go figure. Second, it’s nothing like what we think of in the States as a “pudding.” The texture is much more like a muffin, with slightly sticky sides and top, as much of the sweetness comes from the use of dates in the batter. The cake you’ll get from the recipe here – which I adapted from the very talented pastry chef at The French Laundry – is simultaneously light and very moist, probably because I whip the butter and sugar together until they scream. And it really comes into its own with the toffee sauce. Most recipes also suggest serving it with whipped cream or ice cream, which helps cut the sweetness.

Finally, I’ve now seen a number of variations on the basic recipe, including ones with orange peel and quite a few with vanilla (ugh). Bushmills Inn included whiskey (Bushmills, no doubt) in the version they served us, but not in the recipe they handed out. Martha Stewart makes hers with coffee instead of water; if you try it that way, please let me know how it goes. I was attempting to recreate my Irish experience, so I went with the most straightforward ingredients. I added the tablespoon of molasses to Chef Clark’s recipe, to enhance that fall flavor and to make it, well, a bit stickier.

From amazon.com, naturally

This is a really easy recipe, and takes very little time. (The second batch I made took less than 30 minutes to mix.)  I used nonstick dariole moulds, which are like deep individual muffin tins but also work for puddings, bread pudding, or panna cotta. You could also use an oblong cake pan, a bundt pan, or a popover pan. The batter expands a great deal, so whatever you use, be careful not to fill it more than halfway.

Sticky Toffee Pudding

Adapted from Indulge (Whitecap Books, 2007), by Claire Clark

Makes 8-9 individual cakes.

For the pudding cakes:
6 ounces Medjool dates, pitted and chopped well
10 ounces water
1 teaspoon baking soda
1¾ ounces (3½ tablespoons) unsalted butter, softened
6 ounces caster sugar*
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 tablespoon dark molasses
6 ounces (1½ cups) self-rising flour*, sifted

*Kitchen Goddess note on the ingredients: (1) Caster sugar is just superfine sugar. Very useful in mixed drinks and preferred by cake bakers because it dissolves faster. You can make your own by putting granulated sugar in your food processor and giving it a few pulses. (2) Self-rising flour, which is flour with baking powder and salt added, is traditionally milled from softer, lower protein wheat, so it produces softer, more tender baked goods than all-purpose flours, which is why bakers like it. To make your own for this recipe, use a food processor (5-6 pulses) to combine 1½ cups of all-purpose flour (spooned, not scooped) with 2¼ teaspoons of baking powder and ¾ teaspoon of table salt.

For the toffee sauce:
8 ounces (1¼ cups, packed) dark brown sugar
8 ounces (2 sticks) unsalted butter
4 ounces heavy cream

Make the pudding cakes:
Preheat the oven to 350º. The Kitchen Goddess used nonstick pans; if yours are not nonstick, you’ll need to lightly butter the sides and bottoms.

Chop the dates well and add them with the water to a small saucepan. Bring the mixture to a boil, stir well, and let it simmer 4-5 minutes, until the dates look almost puréed. Remove the mixture from the heat and stir in the baking soda. Set aside the mixture to cool. [KG note: The baking soda will cause the mixture to bubble furiously and take on an unattractive brownish-green color. That’s ok.]

Using an electric mixer, cream together the butter and sugar and continue to whip until they are light and fluffy (1-2 minutes). Add the eggs a little at a time, to get them well incorporated into the batter. Stir in the molasses and the date mixture and mix well.

Add the flour – about one-third at a time – and mix well. As you add ingredients, be sure to pause occasionally to scrape down the sides of the bowl. The batter should be relatively smooth when all ingredients are combined.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pans – filling no more than halfway up the sides – and bake about 25 minutes for individual cakes, at least 30 for a single cake. When done, the cakes should be puffed and spring back in the center when gently pressed with a finger. I found the baking to be most successful when I rotated the pan halfway through the time.






While the cakes are baking, make the toffee sauce:
In a saucepan, melt the butter and stir in the brown sugar until it dissolves. Bring the mixture to a boil, stirring frequently. Add the cream and return the mixture to a low boil for 2 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Serve the cakes warm with sauce spooned over them. Serve with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. You can make the cakes a day ahead and let them stand – covered, in their pans – at room temperature. You can make the sauce several hours ahead and reheat, either on the stove or in the microwave.

Help! I’ve Been Taken Prisoner by a Tomato Plant What’s cooking? Savory Tomato Jam and Cherry Tomato Cobbler

Last spring, in a fit of optimism, I added a couple of Sun Gold tomato plants to my kitchen garden. Little bitty things, about 6 inches tall. I didn’t know how they’d fare on their own in the brutal Texas summer – the last time I tried this, we stayed put for the season, so I could nurse things along. I reminded myself that the beds get watered automatically once a week, and if they didn’t make it, well, so it goes.

By the time we left for the summer, they still weren’t terribly big and they hadn’t produced any fruit, but I felt very Farmer Lee with them. They’d gotten large enough that I put in some wire tomato cages, to support them in case they did survive.

On our return three months later, it was clear that I’d underestimated the growing power of a Texas summer, or the vitamins in my garden soil, or something. The place looked like Jurassic Park. It took a day of me and a couple of strong helpers just to clear enough room to move around in the space. All the herbs – basil, chives, thyme, rosemary, and oregano – had outgrown their beds. The weeds were up to my hips. And the tomatoes had gone completely nuts. Almost as if they took one look at my simple tomato cages and sneered, “Tomato cages? You make a little joke? Phooey. We need this iron fence for support.”

So, once I cleared the gravel path, I picked for a couple of hours each day for three days in a row. In all, I retrieved more than 5 pounds of edible fruit, to say nothing of the ones that were too soft and the hundreds of tomato carcasses whose seeds will no doubt show up next spring as “volunteers.”

Then I tapped into the internet to figure out what to do.

The quickest and easiest solution was to freeze some. Rinse them off, lay them on a small sheet pan, and shove it into the freezer. A couple of hours later, the tomatoes are like marbles, at which point you can easily load them into jars or baggies and put them back into the freezer. I’m thinking tomato sauce or frittatas in January...

But the Kitchen Goddess wanted to preserve some of them in the old-fashioned canning sense, even though “canning” happens in jars these days. Turns out my good buddy Mark Bittman has a recipe for Tomato Jam that seemed just the right level of savory-sweet. For a jammy texture, you have to put in sugar, so Bittman balances that sweetness with lime juice, then adds a medley of spices – ginger, cinnamon, cumin, and clove – to give it a sharp fall flavor. He used large tomatoes, but I felt sure my Sun Golds would jam up fine, and I was right.

What I most liked was that the tomatoes didn’t disintegrate completely – many held their orb shape, so the jam ends up having a nice, chutney-esque texture. I served some as a glaze on grilled salmon that night and was so thrilled with it that, the next morning, I made some cheese scones and ate the jam on them for breakfast in the garden.

Basking in the glow of the jam, I had just enough to make a Kitchen Goddess variation on Martha Stewart’s Tomato Cobbler. Wow. Baking brings out the sweetness of the tomatoes, but the onions and flour and herbs pull the dish back into savory territory. They also give the tomatoes enough structure to keep from turning into sauce, and the cheesy biscuit topping soaks up just the right amount of the juice. The dish is perfect for lunch with a salad, or as a side dish with dinner.

Savory Tomato Jam

Adapted from Mark Bittman in The New York Times August 19, 2008

Makes enough to fill four 8-ounce jars, with a little left over for some salmon or savory breakfast scones.

3 pounds ripe tomatoes (Bittman used Roma; Kitchen Goddess used small Sun Gold cherry tomatoes)
2 cups sugar
¼ cup freshly squeezed lime juice
2 tablespoons fresh, grated ginger
2 teaspoons ground cumin
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground cloves
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper (or 2 medium jalapeño peppers, stemmed, seeded and minced; or red pepper flakes or cayenne to taste – all depends on how much and what kind of heat you like)

If you are using full-size tomatoes, core and chop them into ½-inch dice. Use cherry tomatoes as they are; if your cherry tomatoes are large, you may want to cut them in half.

In a large, heavy saucepan, stir together all ingredients until sugar is well distributed. Bring the mixture to a boil over medium heat, stirring often. Once the liquid reaches a boil, reduce the heat to a simmer, and continue to simmer for about 1 hour 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. If at the end of that time, the mixture has not reached a consistency of jam, continue to simmer for another 15 minutes, checking occasionally. Taste and adjust the seasoning, then process as for preserves.

If you don’t plan to process the mixture in preserving jars, refrigerate the jam until ready to use. It should keep at least a week. This recipe can easily be halved for a smaller batch. If you do so, be sure to watch the thickness carefully, as a smaller batch will jam-up faster.

Kitchen Goddess note: The following recipe includes the KG’s tried and true method of making biscuit dough using her food processor. You don’t have to do it this way, though I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t because it’s so easy. And it works. If you prefer to use a pastry cutter or your hands to get those pieces of butter to pea size, go right ahead.

Cherry Tomato Cobbler

Adapted from marthastewart.com.

Serves 4.

For the filling:
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large yellow onion, thinly sliced
2 garlic cloves, minced
1½ pounds small cherry tomatoes
1½ tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon fresh thyme leaves (or chopped fresh rosemary leaves, or fresh oregano - your choice)
½ teaspoon Aleppo pepper or ¼ teaspoon dried red pepper flakes
¾ teaspoon coarse salt
freshly ground black pepper (about 8 grinds)

For the topping:
½ stick unsalted butter
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
½ cup grated cheddar cheese, plus 1-2 tablespoons for topping
¾ cup heavy cream, plus 1 tablespoon for brushing on top

Make the filling:

In a medium-sized skillet (I used a 10-inch), heat the oil over medium heat and add the onions. Cook the onions for about 30 minutes, stirring often, until lightly caramelized. Reduce the heat toward the end if necessary to keep the onions from burning. Add the garlic and continue to cook, stirring, another 5 minutes on medium-low. Remove from heat and let cool.

In a large mixing bowl, gently toss the tomatoes with the flour, onion mix, thyme, salt, black pepper, and Aleppo pepper. Pour the mixture into a 2-quart casserole dish and set aside.

Preheat the oven to 375º.

Make the biscuit topping:
Cut the butter into four equal slices; cut each slice into quarters. Put the butter pieces on a plate and freeze until ready to use.

Put the flour and baking soda and salt into the bowl of a food processor and pulse 4-5 times to get them well mixed.

Add the butter from the freezer to the processor bowl, and pulse enough times (about 14-15) to get the butter down to pea size. Add the cheese and pulse until well mixed.

Pour in the cream and continue to pulse until the dough mostly forms a ball as it moves around the bowl. (The dough will still be sticky. Don’t fret.)

Using a large spoon, scoop clumps (about ⅓ cup each) of the dough, and arrange them on top of the tomato-onion mixture, leaving small openings here and there for the steam and juice to bubble through. Lightly brush the dough with the remaining tablespoon of cream, and sprinkle with the reserved cheese.

Bake 1 hour at 375º, or until the topping is golden brown. Set the dish on a rack to cool for 5-10 minutes before serving.

Kitchen Goddess note: From the leftover dough, you can also make a couple of scone-like biscuits. Bake simultaneously on a greased pan or parchment, for about 40 minutes until golden brown. Maybe even have them for breakfast with the Savory Tomato Jam, hmmm?

And now I have to go – I have some tomatoes to pick.

On the Road Again What’s cooking? Cumin Chicken with Squash, Fennel, and Grapes

Fall launches our great annual North-to-South migration. Friends who’ve escaped the Texas summer to Nantucket, the Jersey shore, Wisconsin lakes, or Colorado bounce back to our neighborhood in Austin, even though afternoon temperatures there still climb into the 90s.

Until this trip, it’s always been a 2-day drive for us. But I seem incapable of... let’s just say getting my shit together. HE – that would be my hubby – has what appears to be nothing to do but pack two small bags and get in the car. I, on the other hand, have three suitcases, two hanging bags, several bags of recipes and magazines I haven’t quite gotten through, my laptop, a box of spices/sauces I’ve collected over the summer, and – you guessed it – a cooler full of food. Apples and sugar snap peas and other snacky items for the road, along with the stuff I couldn’t stand to leave at the farmers’ market and figure we’ll eat in Texas (turnips, turnip greens, acorn squash, a small bunch of sorrel, and a big bunch of carrots).

In addition to the packing, I stayed up too late chopping up 5 pounds of beefsteak tomatoes and mixing a double batch of arugula pesto; the tomatoes and pesto went into the freezer for our Christmas visit. Both of those are great ways to preserve the fall goodies for winter. But all that activity means staying up too late, so I’m groggy and grumpy before we even get into the car. Not a nice way to start a 27-hour drive with your mate. One day I’ll get saner – just not this year.

Kitchen Goddess note: If you, too, are mourning the last of the field-ripened tomatoes, there’s a way to hang onto them without going through the whole canning thing. Wash them, chop them into cubes ½-¾-inch size, and load them into zip-lock freezer bags. Squeeze out the extra air and lay the bags flat until they freeze, after which you can stack them every which way. Great for use in sauces in the middle of winter.

We’re listening to WNYC as we drive this morning. Through the miracles of streaming radio technology, a bluetooth conversation between my phone and my car, and the magic of radio in the first place, we’re getting Brian Lehrer as he talks with the journalist and photographer Brandon Stanton. Stanton recently spent time in Eastern Europe interviewing refugees fleeing Syria, asking them about why they left. The stories of violence and trauma paint a wrenching picture of people forced by circumstances over which they have no control to abandon their homes and friends and families. They packed a single set of clothes and left everything else they had to look for a life that would be safer. Listening to the voices, I feel spoiled and frivolous in my “need” to cart a car-full of stuff back and forth, and suddenly grateful even to have a place I can call home.

One of the blessings of an upcoming departure is that I focus on menus that take very little work. This year, I discovered a marvelous recipe for chicken and vegetables that can be cooked all at once and on two large sheet pans. (If you cut the recipe in half, it’ll only take one sheet pan!) Yes, you’ll dirty a large bowl with the veggies, and a small bowl with the spice mixture, and certainly a cutting board; but that’s not bad for a full dinner. So even the clean-up is brief. My younger son showed up for the meal, and both he and Grumpy pronounced it a success.

Aleppo Pepper

The Kitchen Goddess loved the sweet-hot spice mixture here – especially with the smokiness of the Aleppo pepper, which gave the dish a vaguely North African flavor. After all, Aleppo pepper is grown mostly in Syria and Turkey. The mint adds to that sensation. Simple but exotic.

Cumin Chicken with Squash, Fennel, and Grapes

Adapted from Epicurious, August 2015

Serves 4.

2 tablespoons brown sugar
2 tablespoons ground cumin
2 tablespoons kosher salt
2 tablespoons freshly ground black pepper
2 teaspoons Aleppo pepper (or ¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper)
2 acorn squash (about 1¼-1½ pounds), halved, seeded, and sliced into ½-inch half-moons
2 medium fennel bulbs (about ¾ pound), cut in half lengthwise, sliced into ½-inch wedges with core intact
1 pound seedless red grapes (about 2 cups)
2 tablespoons olive oil
8 skin-on, bone-in chicken thighs (about 4 pounds)
½ cup fresh mint leaves, ribboned or torn

Special equipment: Two half-sheet rimmed baking pans (18" x 13")

Preheat oven to 425º. Position one oven rack in the upper third of the oven and another in the lower third.

In a small bowl, combine the brown sugar, cumin, salt, black pepper, and Aleppo pepper. Mix well.

In a large mixing bowl, use your hands to toss the squash, fennel, and grapes with the oil and half the spice mixture. Turn the mixture out onto the sheet pans, and spread it in a single layer, evenly divided between the two pans.

Place the chicken pieces in the same bowl and sprinkle the rest of the spice mixture on them, rubbing it into the skin. Arrange the chicken skin-side up on top of the veggies, and roast 30-35 minutes, until the skin is browned. Rotate the two pans halfway through the roasting time. (If you prefer less guesswork, use an instant-read thermometer to make sure the internal temperature on the chicken registers 165º.)

Serve immediately, garnished with torn or ribboned mint.

Hanging Out with My People What’s cooking? Two great cocktails and a Tropical Smoothie

I started writing this at 32,000 feet, on my way back from a conference for bloggers in Seattle. The International Food Bloggers Conference 2015. Yes, even the Kitchen Goddess can enjoy hanging out with a group of like-minded souls for a few days.

I’m never really sure what I’ll find as I head into such adventures. I arrive at the hotel, and the questions that burn in my mind are... “Who ARE these people? And are they MY people?”

Not surprisingly, it’s a fairly eclectic group, and yes, they are my people. I mean, who else could spend three days talking about food and photography and food styling? But, as always, I’m intrigued by the subculture phenomenon.

On just about any topic, you can find a large group of people who’ll happily spend days on end discussing aspects of related minutae that would cause a “normal” person to run screaming from the room. Back in my single days, for instance, I was introduced to the world of tournament bridge. (The card game, not the giant steel structures.) Three times a year, the American Contract Bridge Association holds a national tournament at which many of these aficionados spend 10 days straight doing nothing but playing bridge. Sure, sign me up. And when these people go to dinner, they mostly discuss bridge hands. And at the end of the day, having spent their waking hours playing anywhere from 26 to 78 hands, they retire to the bar where the talk shifts to... bridge hands.

You can find subcultures of flower arrangers, crossword puzzlers, antique car owners, bonsai tree artists (you know who you are), ...even writers. And the great thing is that, within these subcultures, the qualities that in the “normal” world would cause a person to stand out, don’t. The hierarchy of values that makes George Clooney or Mark Zuckerberg or Oprah Winfrey a star is turned on its head. In the bridge world, Warren Buffet and Bill Gates – who both play the game – are unremarkable participants, and many of the “star” players would strike a non-bridge player as odd or even unpleasant.

Among food bloggers, the stars are the photographers, food stylists, and cookbook writers. In Seattle, in a workshop on taste trends, one woman told us about a recipe of hers for dill pickle soup. Yes, I know, dill pickle soup. Apparently it went viral and she got like a million hits. And when she reported this episode to the crowd, you could almost hear the low murmur ripple through the room... Holy shit... a million hits. That’s the stuff of rock stars in the food blogging world.

Among the many treats of the weekend was a Culinary Fair [read: dinner] featuring goodies from various Seattle restaurants and conference sponsors. As I wandered the room, I noticed lots of people sipping really pretty cocktails. Turns out they were offerings of the Stonyfield Yogurt Company, and not a drop of yogurt in them. Who knew yogurt people could be such fun? In fact, the cocktails were creations of Rebecca Rice, of Highball Custom Bar Catering, inspired by Stonyfield yogurts. That’s all I know about Rebecca except that she had some very fine ideas.

So in honor of the Stonyfield Yogurt folks, here are two of those yogurt-free cocktails – tested and approved by the Kitchen Goddess and her hubby, who pronounced them “mighty tasty” – and a breakfast treat for the next day.

The Cooler takes a little work, but well worth it for the gorgeous layered look and the fresh and complex taste – like a salad that’s simultaneously fruity and herb-y and you can’t quite decide which. Make a batch of the pear-ginger juice and the cucumber juice and serve these to your guests with hors d’oeuvres. Only one per guest, unless, well,... you know.

In case you missed it, I’m going to repeat: this Gingered Pear and Cucumber Cooler, with the layer of green drifting into the layer of golden yellow like a rainbow, is beautiful, and would make a great start to a dinner party. Very sophisticated. The Kitchen Goddess doesn’t even like gin, but she finished hers. Yes, sirree.

Gingered-Pear & Cucumber Cooler

Inspired by Stonyfield Organic Gingered Pear Oh My Yog! Yogurt, and adapted from Rebecca Rice, Highball Custom Bar Catering

Makes 4 cocktails.

For the drink:
6 ounces pear juice (I used pear drink from concentrate; or make your own if you’re really crazy or have a juicer)
1-inch piece fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1½ large cucumbers (not the seedless variety)
3 ounces lemon juice
7 ounces good quality gin
4 teaspoons sugar (superfine sugar dissolves best; use less sugar if you prefer less sweetness)

For the glasses (martini glasses work well):
lemon wedges (for wetting the rims)
pink flaky salt (if you can find it, or kosher salt if not)
cayenne pepper

Stir the ginger into the pear juice and refrigerate it for at least 30 minutes. Strain out the ginger before serving.










Cut 12 thin slices of cucumber (3 slices per drink). Set aside on a plate, covered so they don’t dry out. Chunk the rest of the cucumber into a juicer (if you have one) or blender and process to get as finely pulverized as you can. Strain the pulp from the juice to get at least 3 ounces of juice. Refrigerate the juice until ready to serve.

Cucumber juice --isn’t it pretty?

Run the lemon wedges around the rims of the glasses to wet them, and roll the edges of the glasses in a saucer of salt (pink salt is nice but not necessary) mixed with a dash of cayenne.

In a glass jar or cocktail shaker of ice, combine 4 ounces of the gingered pear juice, 3 ounces lemon juice, 7 ounces gin, and the sugar, and shake until thoroughly chilled. Strain into the four salt-and-cayenne-rimmed glasses.

Float 3 cucumber slices in each drink to cover the surface. Pour ¾ ounce of chilled cucumber juice over the back of a spoon in a layer over the cucumber slices.

The spoon is essential, to keep the cuke juice from torpedoing the cuke slices.

* * *

The Blueberry Mojito is a lot simpler and adds a nice fruitiness to the classic mint drink.

Kitchen Goddess note: The following drink calls for Minted Simple Syrup. I have touted this syrup as a staple for your fridge on more than one occasion. And here it is again. But the KG is a patient woman, so in case you still don’t have any... In a small saucepan, combine 1 cup water with 1 cup sugar and 1½ cups mint leaves, and bring to a simmer, stirring just until the sugar dissolves. Simmer 2 minutes and strain. Put the syrup into a jar and label it; it will keep indefinitely.

Blueberry Mojito

Inspired by Stonyfield Organic Quebec Blueberry Oh My Yog! Yogurt, and adapted from Rebecca Rice, Highball Custom Bar Catering

Makes 4 cocktails.

1 pint blueberries
1 small bunch fresh mint
7 ounces white rum
4 ounces fresh lime juice
3 ounces minted simple syrup [See KG note above.]

Put a small layer of crushed ice in the bottoms of 4 highball glasses.

Add a layer of blueberries (10-12).

Add a layer of mint leaves.

Repeat with layers of ice, berries, and mint.

In a glass jar or cocktail shaker with ice, combine the rum, lime juice, and minted simple syrup. Shake until the mixture is thoroughly chilled, and strain into the four glasses. Garnish with a sprig of mint.

* * *

Tropical Smoothie

Inspired by Deborah Harroun (check out her very attractive Taste and Tell blog)

Makes 4 servings.

12 ounces 100% pineapple juice
2 large ripe bananas, cut in ½-inch pieces and frozen
6 ounces Stonyfield Organic Plain Greek Yogurt
1 cup coconut water
1 cup crushed ice

Combine all ingredients in a blender, and process until smooth. Serve immediately.

¡Viva México! What’s cooking? Sopa de Albóndigas

Speaking of celebrations – I was just speaking of celebrations, wasn’t I? – today is a most important day to remember our neighbors to the South. That would be in Mexico, where today is the official Día de Independencia. (And for those of you who are noting that you’re reading this on September 17th, I want it also noted that I actually hit the Publish button before midnight. Enough with the smart remarks. Just make the soup.)

A Historical Note (I know, I can’t help myself): Mexico’s War of Independence began in the tiny town of Dolores, in the state of Guanajuato, on September 16, 1810. Spanish colonial officials had uncovered a plot to overthrow their government; and when the priest Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, who had been part of the plot, learned the news, he had to act quickly. He ran to the center of Dolores, rang the church bell, and delivered an electrifying speech calling for everyone to take up arms against the Spanish Crown. The large and disparate mob that assembled marched with Hidalgo toward Mexico City, sparking an uprising against Spanish rule that finally achieved victory 11 years later.

As with its U.S. counterpart, the day is now most often referred to by its date (Dieciseis de Septiembre) rather than its name (Día de Independencia). According to the International Times, the celebration actually begins at 11p.m. on the evening of September 15, with the President of Mexico reenacting the “Grito de Dolores” (the Cry of Dolores). He rings the bell of the National Palace in Mexico City, then repeats a patriotic cry and shouts, “¡Viva México!” three times, before waving the flag of Mexico.

* * *

For the Kitchen Goddess, the Dieciseis de Septiembre is a great excuse to make one of her favorite soups: Sopa de Albóndigas. Not because it’s an elegant gourmet dish – it’s not. In fact, it’s a delightfully mundane sort of dish – not unlike the hodgepodge of rebels that initiated the revolution. It’s a dish filled with the bright primary colors of Latino celebrations, a dish that’s fun to make and stars the basic elements of good, earthy Mexican cuisine. Also a great excuse to buy a bag of tortilla chips.

So without further ado, here it is. Sopa de Albóndigas – which means “meatball soup” in Spanish – is a traditional Mexican soup featuring spicy (not hot) meatballs, swimming in a flavorful stew of fresh vegetables and herbs. It’s good the first day, and good the second day if you can make it last that long. I first saw this version in a skinny book of soups from Williams-Sonoma, back in the days when you could buy something from W-S for less than $20. I’ve loved it from the beginning. You can make it with pork or turkey if you want an alternative to beef.

Sopa de Albóndigas

Adapted from Soups, in the Williams-Sonoma Kitchen Library.

Serves 8-10.

For the meatballs:
1 pound lean ground beef
4 eggs, lightly beaten
½ cup red onion, finely chopped
¾ cup crushed tortilla chips
¼ cup fresh cilantro, minced
1 tablespoon dried oregano
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon freshly ground pepper

For the soup:
7 cups beef stock (low fat if possible), or chicken stock
1 16-ounce can whole tomatoes with juice
2 teaspoons sugar
1 teaspoon Aleppo pepper or ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes
¾ cup carrots, in ½-inch dice
¾ cup celery, in ½-inch dice
1 cup onion (1 medium onion), in ½-inch dice
1 bay leaf

To make the meatballs: Combine all the ingredients in a large bowl, and mix well. Cover the bowl with cellophane wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour.

Form the meat mixture into small balls about 1 inch to 1½ inches in diameter.

Kitchen Goddess note: The process of forming all those little balls is a lot easier if you set out a bowl of water to moisten your hands while you work. When your hands are wet, the meat won’t stick to them. Also, it’s helpful to have a spoon to use for keeping the size of the meatballs consistent; the KG uses a teaspoon to gauge the amount of meat mixture for each ball.

Set the finished meatballs on a plate or plates while you work your way through the mixture. Refrigerate the finished meatballs while you ready the soup.

The Kitchen Goddess cleverly uses custard cups turned upside down to stack the plates.

In a large soup pot (I use a 5.5-quart Le Creuset French oven), combine the stock and tomatoes, using a wooden spoon to crush the tomatoes or a knife to cut them into coarse pieces. Stir in the sugar and Aleppo pepper (or pepper flakes), then add the carrots, celery, onion, and bay leaf. Bring the mixture to a boil, then adjust the temperature to a simmer.

Remove the meatballs from the fridge and gently roll them into the simmering stock. Once all the meatballs are in the soup, return the stock to a simmer and cover the pot. Simmer the soup gently for 20-25 minutes, until the meatballs and vegetables are cooked through.

To serve, remove and discard the bay leaf. Ladle the soup into bowls and serve with chips or warm tortillas and a salad.

For Your Post-Labor Day Celebrations What’s cooking? Summer Fruit Rosé Sangria

The Kitchen Goddess has worked herself into what in the South we call a “tizzy” over this post. It was supposed to be short and easy – a simple sangria for the Labor Day celebration. And now of course, Labor Day is over, but do not tell me you can’t find a way to celebrate something. The weekend? The still-warm weather? The start of football season?

Back to the sangria, the KG found herself overwhelmed with choices. For starters, which wine? Red felt too hot. White? Well, the KG had already posted her favorite white sangria, which you’ll find here. That left rosé. Over the years, rosé has unfairly gotten a reputation for being a sweet wine, but there are literally hundreds of really nice, dry rosé wines, and many are very nicely priced for this purpose. So that’s what we’re going to use today.

A tiny tidbit of trivia: According to Wikipedia, rosé may actually be the oldest type of wine. Evidence of winemaking goes back as far as 8000 years ago, in ancient Georgia (the country, not the state, though my friends in the state may claim to have been drinking that long). As I understand it, the earliest methods left the skins in contact with the juice for up to 3 days. And that, my friends, is how you make rosé.

So you have the wine, and now you have to add something. Again, too many choices. Your basic sangria contains wine, fruit, and some type of liqueur (most often Triple Sec or Cointreau). Beyond those, I found any number of other liquids in what the authors called “sangria”: rum, gin, port, brandy, various fruit juices, and simple syrup. Some also threw in cinnamon sticks, mint, or citrus rinds to enhance the flavor. Finally, some recipes added sparkling water at the end. The mind reeled...

I did find an interesting recipe – which I’ll share here – but once I made it, my hubby pronounced it “too alcoholic.” Hrmph. Probably because of the gin. I’ve tasted it today – after giving it a night in the fridge – and it’s really quite good; but there is the gin. Even after adding a bit of sparkling water, the Kitchen Goddess noticed a kick. So if you think you’d prefer a version that won’t have your friends falling asleep on your couch, I’ve come up with another, simpler concoction with more fruit and no gin.

First, the recipe with gin. I’ve already modified it because it called for Campari, which I don’t like. And the mixologist serves it with fruit juice ice cubes, which I found to be a little too precious – also too much work.

Kitchen Goddess note: Both of these recipes call for simple syrup. In fact, many cocktails and most sangrias call for simple syrup. It’s so simple, you should just keep some in your fridge. It’s also useful for sweetening iced tea or lemonade – no need for extended stirring to get the sugar to dissolve. To make simple syrup, combine equal parts sugar with cold water (measuring by volume, which is reasonably accurate, you want ½ cup sugar to ½ cup water, or 1 cup sugar to 1 cup water, etc.) in a small saucepan. Set over medium-high heat and stir just until the sugar dissolves. When the mixture reaches a simmer, turn off the heat and set the pan aside. Pour the mixture into a sterile jar and it will keep in the fridge for at least a month. (Remember, sugar is used as a preservative, so if your jar is clean, it should keep indefinitely.)

Rosé Sangria

Adapted from Troy Sidle, a bartender and bar designer based in New York City, as seen on the food site, TastingTable.com.

Serves 6.

½ cup gin
3 tablespoons St. Germain liqueur (or Campari, if you prefer)
8 slices of peel from a grapefruit, 1 inch wide and 2-3 inches long (use a vegetable peeler)
8 slices of peel from a lemon, same as above
½ cup raspberries
1½ cups strawberries, hulled – ½ cup quartered and 1 cup sliced into rounds
2 tablespoons simple syrup
1 bottle dry rosé wine (750 ml)
1 nectarine, thinly sliced
Sparkling water
Garnish: mint sprigs

In a small bowl, stir the raspberries, the quartered strawberries and the citrus peels into the gin and the St. Germain. Muddle (crush) the berries to add their juices into the other liquid. Refrigerate at least 2 hours or overnight.

Once the fruit-infused gin mixture has had time to mellow, strain out the berries and peels and add the remaining liquid to a large pitcher along with the 2 tablespoons of simple syrup and the wine. Cover with cellophane wrap and allow the ingredients to get to know each other overnight in the fridge. Stir in the sliced strawberries and the nectarine. Serve over ice with a splash of sparkling water.

Kitchen Goddess note: The above mixture is relatively high in alcoholic content, so you may want to suggest that your guests treat it as a cocktail instead of a wine punch, drinking sparingly. Alternatively, you can go with the following, which is fruity and refreshing, yet lower in alcohol.

Summer Fruit Rosé Sangria

Serves 6.

1 ripe peach, peeled and diced
1 teaspoon juice and 8 slices of peel (about 1 inch wide, 2-3 inches long) from 1 Meyer lemon
2 tablespoons St. Germain liqueur
2 tablespoons simple syrup
1 bottle dry rosé wine (750 ml)
1 sliced nectarine
½ cup sliced strawberries (hull removed)
Garnish: mint sprigs

In a small bowl, muddle together the peach, the lemon juice and the peel with the St. Germain liqueur, and set aside for 2-3 hours.

Separate the lemon peels and reserve, then strain the muddled peach from the liqueur. (There’s no further use for the peach, but I’m sure you can find something to do with it. It’s quite yummy.)  In a large pitcher, stir together the simple syrup, the wine, and the peach-infused liqueur. Add the peels to the wine mixture, along with the nectarine slices and the strawberries. Refrigerate 2-3 hours and serve over ice with mint garnish.

The Wines

I used two wines for these concoctions, one from Italy and one from France. The first was a rosato from Tuscany, Salcheto’s 2014 Obvius.





 The second was a 2014 Cœur Estérelle Côtes de Provence rosé. Both were dry and somewhat fruity; both cost less than $14.




And now the KG is off to enjoy the fruits – and spirits – of her labors. Happy Wednesday, all!