I have a very clear memory of walking down a street with my mother when I was quite young being given a crash course in Afternoon Tea etiquette as we made our way to the house of a British friend of hers. I don’t remember whether I successfully didn’t embarrass my mother (on that particular occasion, at any rate), but I was quite young (and American) so I probably got a pass from her friend (who, being that kind of English, would have been too polite to say anything anyway).

That being said, appropriate tea etiquette, as I recall being taught it many years ago, holds that you first take the savory items from the tea display and begin by eating the plainest first and gradually working your way up to the more complicated sandwiches. So, traditionally one would begin with brown bread and butter (to which Gwendolyn is devoted) and end with cucumber sandwiches (assuming that had ready money to obtain the cucumbers, and the market was willing). Only after one had partaken of the savory portions of the meal would one progress onwards to scones, and other sweets.

It goes without being said, except that apparently I’m saying it, that one starts with just one of any given item, and only takes a second when pressed by the hostess (unless your hostess is Dutch in which case it’s possible she’ll be horrified if you actually take her up on her offer of seconds – as my mother was informed by her mother-in-law after she had in fact partaken of seconds at her hostesses urging. Her mother-in-law (my grandmother) felt that just this once she might be excused because she was, after all, an American).

My tea was a tad more ostentatiously elaborate than I suspect Lady Bracknell (or my grandmother) would have approved. This is because it was doubling as dinner for most of us, and because when left alone with a menu plan for any length of time I tend to get overly ambitious and I’ve been dreaming up this menu since March.

My tea was served at 5:30, which when I was a child in Hong Kong and eating tea at friends houses would have almost certainly been baked beans on toast. I have deeply fond memories of beans on toast, and I’m a little loath to try it again as an adult lest my recollections be sullied by the harsh reality of what beans on toast probably actually tastes like (bearing in mind we’re talking tinned beans on white bread). This was not that tea either.

Nor, despite the name and the decorative theme, was it the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party where nobody actually eats, there’s a dormouse asleep in the teapot, and the Mad Hatter makes you verbally fence for the supper he doesn’t serve you. I can’t say we achieved quite the same level of nonsensical perspicacity as Alice and the Mad Hatter, but on the other hand we did let everyone eat, and nobody was turned away from the table, and our dormouse was actually a stuffed otter, so six of one and half dozen of another.

Cucumber Sandwiches
Roast Beef Sandwiches w/ Spicy Tomato Jam
Open-face Asparagus Sandwiches w/ Lemony White Bean Spread
Devilled Eggs
Coconut Chicken Salad in Wonton Cups
Cherry Tomatoes stuffed w/ Lemony Pea Puree
Radishes

Cream Scones w/ Strawberries, Cream, Jam & Lemon Curd
Honey Tea Cake
Rhubarb Devonshire Tartlets
Dark Chocolate Goat Cheese Truffles

Tea
Strawberry-Basil Champagne Cocktails

SAVORIES

Recipes can be found here.

SWEETS

Recipes can be found here.

TEA & CELEBRATION

Recipes can be found here.

Tea
Do I have to explain the presence of tea at Afternoon Tea?

Strawberry-Basil Champagne Cocktails
Because, Done is Good and we were celebrating (in no particular order) a birthday, the completion of an MLS, an imminent one year wedding anniversary, and (someone else’s) new job (and possibly more importantly, the quitting of her old job).

Strawberry-Basil Syrup
1 lb (frozen) strawberries, thawed
Juice of ½ lemon
½ cup loosely packed basil leaves
1 cup sugar
Champagne, or fizzy water

Puree the strawberries. If you feel like it you can strain it at this point to remove the seeds, I like the thickness they give the puree and didn’t bother.

Pour strawberry juice into a liquid measuring cup. Add water to reach 1 cup if needed. Pour into a small saucepan with lemon juice, basil, and sugar.

Heat mixture over medium heat until boiling. Simmer 5 minutes, stirring frequently. Remove from heat and let cool. Remove the basil leaves.

To serve, spoon 1-2 Tbsp of the syrup into the bottom of a champagne flute and top with champagne (or fizzy water).

Cream Scones
(makes 8-12 scones – depending on how you cut them)

In England scones are generally served with clotted cream (which is the food of the gods), but that’s hard to find here in the heathen United States and while it is possible to make it it’s more complicated than I wanted to get (given how complicated the rest of the menu was). So, whipped cream + fresh strawberries, jam and lemon curd had to suffice instead. I don’t think anyone complained.

I made two batches of this recipe – one plain, and one with chopped dried cherries. Oddly the one with the cherries in it came together so much more easily than the plain one, I’m not sure if that was just a fluke, or whether there’s actually something about including dried fruit in the dough that makes it easier to work. Either way, both versions were tasty and baked up tall and golden and decadent.

2 cups (10 oz) all-purpose flour
1 Tbsp baking powder
3 Tbsp sugar
½ tsp salt
5 Tbsp chilled, unsalted butter, cut into ¼” cubes
(optional) ½ cup currants (or other dried fruit of choice, chopped to a similar size)
1 cup heavy cream

Preheat oven to 425°F.

Whisk together flour, baking powder, sugar and salt in a large bowl. Cut in the butter until mixture resembles coarse meal, with a few slightly larger butter lumps. Stir in currants (if using)

Stir in heavy cream with a fork until dough begins to form, about 30 seconds. Transfer dough and all dry, floury bits to countertop and knead dough by hand just until it comes together.

Pat the dough into an even layer in an 8” round, or 8” square baking pan. Tap the dough out onto a lightly floured surface (you will need to tap quite firmly). If you’re using an 8” round cut the dough into 8 equal wedges. If you’re using an 8” square, cut the dough into 6 equal rectangles (3 across x 2 down), and then cut each rectangle in half diagonally for a total of 12 triangular scones. Alternatively, roll the dough to a ¾” thickness and cut rounds using a biscuit cutter, rerolling scraps. If you choose to roll your dough, the scones made from the rerolling will probably not bake up as tall and fluffy.

Place scones on an ungreased baking sheet (I also used parchment paper because my oven bakes hot and I wanted a little added insurance against burning the bottoms of the scones). Brush the tops of the scones with a little milk (or cream) and sprinkle with some coarse sugar (optional – but pretty). Bake 12 to 15 minutes, or until golden brown. Cool on wire rack for at least 10 minutes (usually I skip this step, but these scones really need the cooling time to firm up a little because they come out of the oven very tender and crumbly).

Majestic Honey Cake
I made ½ the recipe in a large loaf pan. The original recipe suggests that you can make the full recipe in a tube or bundt pan. I personally would not try this in any pan that you cannot put a parchment sling into, but if you have nerves of steel you could try it in a bundt pan. I also highly recommend setting whatever your baking vessel of choice is on a double stacked layer of baking sheets to help mitigate the risk of burning the bottom of your cake.

Recipe previously given: Baby Shower Recipes

Rhubarb Devonshire Tartlets
My roommate’s mother introduced me to this wonderful dessert called a Strawberry Devonshire Tart where fresh strawberries sit on top of a thin layer of cream cheese mixed with sour cream, and are then topped with a thick glaze made of pureed strawberries cooked with sugar. It’s excellent and looks spectacular.

However, strawberries aren’t quite in season here yet, but rhubarb is and I do love me some rhubarb. So I made a variation on Strawberry Devonshire Tart, only smaller and with rhubarb in place of the strawberries. It was maybe a little messier, but still tasty.

Tart Shell(s)
Blind bake either 1 large tart shell, or many mini tartlet shells until golden brown and cooked. Allow to cool before proceeding.

Devonshire Filling
3 oz cream cheese, softened
3 Tbsp sour cream

Whisk together until smooth. Spread in the bottom of the baked tart shell(s). This will be a fairly thin layer.

Rhubarb Topping
1 ½ lb rhubarb stalks
¾ – 1 cup dark brown sugar (depending on how sweet you like your filling – I went with the lesser amount)
½ vanilla bean, split and seeds scraped
(3-6 drops of red food coloring – optional, and for aesthetic value only)

Rinse the rhubarb stalks and trim the very ends. Cut them in half lengthwise (unless they’re very slim) and then on the diagonal into ¾” chunks. Add the brown sugar, vanilla bean seeds and pods and turn the heat to medium low. (You want to start at a low temperature to encourage the rhubarb to release its liquid.)

Cook the rhubarb mixture, covered, for about 15 minutes, or until the mixture is saucy. Remove the cover and increase the heat to medium, cooking an additional 15 to 20 minutes, or until the rhubarb is completely broken down and very thick (enough that a spoon leaves a trail at the bottom of the pan – may take more than 20 minutes). Discard your vanilla bean pod. Allow the compote to cool.

If you want to you can add a few drops of red food coloring at this point. It really only serves the aesthetic purpose of making your filling a deep reddish color. For the record, I did add food coloring.

When the filling is cooled spoon on top of Devonshire filling (you may have more filling than you need – keep the rest for yogurt or ice cream). You can leave it as is, or top with a halved blackberry if you’re feeling extravagant.

Dark Chocolate Goat Cheese Truffles
(makes about 20 small truffles)

Confession? I don’t particularly like truffles – neither the variety that gets foraged for under oak trees or the variety that is made of dense chocolate. I do, however, quite like goat cheese and I have proof (in the form of an insanely good chocolate goat cheese cheesecake at a local restaurant) that goat cheese and chocolate is a surprisingly excellent combination, so these truffles sounded like they might be the exception to my rule. Dear reader, they were.

I actually didn’t make these, because I find working with chocolate fiddly, so I outsourced to my roommate who likes making fiddly things. The only thing we might change for next time is to use a little more black pepper because the flavor got a little lost in the chocolate and goat cheese.

4 oz dark chocolate, coarsely chopped
4 z fresh goat cheese, at room temperature
3 Tbsp granulated sugar
½ tsp pure vanilla extract
¼ tsp coarsely crushed black peppercorns
3 Tbsp unsweetened cocoa powder
Coarse sea salt

Place about 2 inches of water in a small saucepan, and place chocolate in a heatproof bowl. Set the bowl over, but not touching, the simmering water to melt the chocolate. Once chocolate is melted, remove bowl from the pot and set aside to cool slightly.

In a medium bowl, whisk together goat cheese, melted chocolate, sugar, vanilla, and peppercorns until fluffy and well incorporated. Cover the mixture in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 1 hour or until firm.

Once firm, portion a heaping teaspoon of the goat cheese mixture into clean hands and roll into a ball. Coat the bottom half of the ball in cocoa powder, place on a cookie sheet, and top with a few flakes of coarse sea salt. Serve slightly chilled.

Truffles will last, in an airtight container, in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.

Cucumber Sandwiches
Because what is afternoon tea without a cucumber sandwich?

Recipe previously given: Mamas Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up To Be Teapots

Roast Beef Sandwiches with Spicy Tomato Jam
There’s a local sandwich shop in Brookline that makes (apparently) the world’s most amazing tomato jam that they slather on a variety of things. My roommate spent several years trying to convince them to just sell it to her in a jar (presumably so that she could bring it home, she’s less likely to eat jam out of the jar with a spoon than I am), but in the end they ended up sharing the recipe online and I have to say it is exactly as good as my roommate said it was, with the added bonus that it’s super easy to make for yourself if you don’t have time/inclination to trek down to Brookline for a sandwich.

Spicy Tomato Jam
1 ½ lb plum tomatoes, cored and coarsely chopped*
2 Tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp grated fresh ginger
1 cup sugar
½ tsp ground cumin
¼ tsp ground black pepper
¼ tsp red pepper flakes
1 tsp kosher salt

Combine tomatoes, lemon juice, ginger, sugar, cumin, black pepper, pepper flakes, and salt in a medium heavy-bottomed sauce pot and cook over medium-high heat until bubbling. Reduce heat to low and gently simmer, stirring occasionally, until mixture is thick and syrupy, about 60-90 minutes. Cool the jam, season with salt and pepper to taste.

* Like most things this is better with ripe flavorful produce, but it works just fine with end of winter imported from who knows where plum tomatoes. Normally I’d sub in canned whole tomatoes, but I suspect you need the pectin in the tomato skins to make this gel so I’d go with fresh in this particular instance.

Open-face Asparagus Sandwiches w/ Lemony White Bean Spread
I refused to serve hummus or any variation thereof as my second vegetarian savory option. Not because I don’t like hummus, or chickpeas, but because I feel like it’s the standard cop out when you need a vegetarian something (and, let me be fair, I’m as guilty of it as anyone else on occasion).

Blanch your asparagus and then cut it into lengths that will fit on your bread, and then in half lengthwise. Thinly slice some baguette (on a diagonal if you’re feeling fancy) and toast. Spread a little of the white bean puree on the bread, top with the asparagus spears, arrange on a plate. If you’re feeling super fancy you could zest a little more lemon over the top of the plate as a pale golden kiss for each sandwich.

Lemony White Bean Spread
1 can white beans, drained, rinsed & dried
1-2 Tbsp Olive Oil
zest & juice of 1 lemon
2-3 cloves garlic (depending on taste*)
Salt/pepper/ground coriander (to taste)

Heat a little olive oil in a large skillet and toast the white beans until they pick up a little crust and turn golden brown. Transfer to a food processor with remaining ingredients and puree until smooth. Add a little chicken stock if necessary to smooth it out. Adjust seasoning to taste.

Deviled Eggs
Deviled eggs and cucumber sandwiches were the requested components of this Birthday Tea, and while they’re distinctly non-traditional for an English tea, I have Southern heritage and I would argue that no occasion is complete without a plate of deviled eggs.

Recipe previously given: The Curse of the Deviled Eggs is Lifted

Coconut Chicken Salad in Wonton Cups
(makes enough filling for 24 cups)

I was looking for different textures, different shapes and different vehicles for finger foods. Wonton cups seemed fun, and this chicken salad has been on my radar to try for a while now. I’d recommend white meat for this, but that’s because I’m a good Southern girl and I think dark meat in your chicken salad is tacky.

Wonton Cups
Lightly oil the cups of a mini muffin pan. Tuck wonton wrappers into cups. Bake at 350 for 5-10 minutes, until browned and crispy. Remove from oven, allow to cool, and then fill with anything you please.

You can bake the wonton cups the day before, but I wouldn’t recommend filling them more than about 1 hour before you plan to serve them to prevent undue sogginess.

Coconut Chicken Salad
Vegetable oil
1 small onion, finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, crushed & minced
1 Tbsp. grated fresh ginger
2 cups chopped cooked chicken*
1 tsp. – 1 Tbsp. curry paste
½ cup light or regular coconut milk
1/3 cup mango or peach chutney
Juice of ½ a lime (about a tablespoon)
Salt to taste
Chives (or cilantro if you must) for garnish

Heat a little oil in a medium nonstick skillet and cook the onion, garlic and ginger for about 2 minutes, or until just softened and fragrant. Add the chicken, curry paste, coconut milk, chutney, lime juice and salt. Cook, stirring often, until bubbly and thickened. Cool slightly or chill before spooning into wonton cups (about 1 -1 ½ Tbsp per cup). Garnish with chopped chives.

* 2 cups of chopped cooked chicken = about 2 large chicken breasts. You can either use leftover chicken if you have it, or roast 2 bone-in chicken breasts in the oven, or poach 2 boneless-skinless chicken breasts in a pan on the stove. Whatever seems easiest to you.

Cherry Tomatoes stuffed w/ Lemony Pea Puree

I recommend largish cherry tomatoes – not the smaller grape tomatoes – just so that you don’t drive yourself crazy trying to gut them.

Slice off the rounded bottom end of the tomato (so that they’ll sit flat on the stem end) and use a small spoon to clean out the guts of the tomato (I found a wee silver coffee spoon was the perfect size for this). Turn tomatoes upside down on paper towels and allow to drain for at least 1 hour.

Lemony Pea Puree
2 cups (about 10 ounces) cups peas (freshly shelled or frozen)
2/3 cup ricotta cheese (or about ¼ cup plain yogurt if you realize you forgot to buy ricotta)
2 tablespoons olive oil
scant ½ teaspoon salt
1 small shallot, minced (or ¼ of a red onion)
1/3 cup grated Parmesan
zest of one large lemon

Cook the peas in boiling salted water for 1-2 minutes, until just tender. Drain and rinse in cold water to stop cooking. Puree with remaining ingredients until mostly smooth, but with a little texture left. Adjust seasoning to taste.

Place in a piping bag (or ziplock bag with the corner cut off) and pipe into hollowed out tomatoes.

Alternatively, you can use this same filling to stuff wontons which you can then, bake, fry, or boil and serve as an appetizer.

Radishes
As a vague nod at a vegetable that didn’t come with cream cheese, filled with a cheesy puree, or on top of bread.  It was only a vague passing nod, more a vague gesture than a really committed statement of anything.

I am normally the queen of delayed gratification.  I can have a birthday present arrive in the mail weeks before my actual birthday and feel no overwhelming impulse to tear into the wrapping early.  I wasn’t a child who went around shaking presents under the Christmas tree (at least, I don’t think I was).  For me anticipation is genuinely half the pleasure.  I love making restaurant reservations in advance and then perusing the menu online (at length and frequently multiple times) to build a sense of expectation for the enjoyment to come.

That being said, this week’s Dinner involved a menu that I have been planning, contemplating, amending and fantasizing about for the better part of three weeks.  This is not because it was a super duper crazy Birthday Dinner (that’s this Sunday – stay tuned for the overly ambitious Mad Hatter’s Tea Party Menu coming next week), but because it was a menu I was stymied on making time and again, and that is not the same as delayed gratification and I’m a lot less good at being stymied than I am at anticipation.  By the time I got around to making it this week the recipes had achieved nearly mythic proportions in my mind, and I was going a little stir crazy waiting for Tuesday evening to roll around so that I could actually taste them.

The first week I planned to make this meal a vegetarian unexpectedly ended up being able to attend Dinner, and I made soup and grilled cheese instead.  Super tasty, but not the arugula pistachio pesto I had been thinking about either.

The second week I planned to make it, I ended up having some medical tests on Thursday that meant I had weird eating restrictions for the first half of the week (relevantly for this menu – no carrots, no beets, and no potatoes with skins).  We had chicken parmesan instead.  Again, tasty, but not the lemony, vaguely Moroccan-y, chicken I was craving.

This week I was determined – come hell or high water – that I was going to make the roasted potatoes with arugula pistachio pesto and the sumac & za’atar roasted chicken, and further banish any thoughts of scurvy with roasted beet & orange salad, and lemon juice dressed carrot salad.  I was well beyond a mere passing interest in the recipes, and inhabiting a space somewhere between yearning and grim determination.

Fortunately after that much anticipation, both (new) recipes were as tasty as I’d been hoping, and the rest of the menu came together exactly the way I anticipated it would.  I got up from the table on Tuesday evening feeling replete, and ready to return to my regular state of appreciation for delayed gratification.

Sumac & Za’atar Roasted Chicken
Roasted Potatoes with Arugula Pistachio Pesto
Carottes Râpées
Asparagus
Roasted Beet Salad

Sumac & Za’atar Roasted Chicken
(serves 4-6)

2-3 lb bone-in/skin-on chicken pieces (I used chicken breasts)
2 red onions, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, crushed
4 Tbsp olive oil
1 ½ tsp allspice
1 tsp cinnamon
1 Tbsp sumac
1 lemon, thinly sliced
¾ cup chicken stock
1 tsp black pepper
2 Tbsp za’atar
Parsley & Pistachios for garnish

Mix chicken, onions, garlic, olive oil, spices, lemon, stock & salt/pepper.  Leave in fridge to marinate a few hours or overnight.

Heat oven to 400 F.  Place chicken skin-side up on a baking sheet.  Sprinkle with za’atar.  Roast for 30-40 minutes, until chicken is cooked through.

While the chicken is roasting place the marinade ingredients in a large pan and bring to a boil.  Boil until most of liquid is cooked off, and then lower the heat to a medium high and continue to cook until the onion/lemon mixture turns into a marmalade (you may need to season with salt & a drizzle of honey).  The onions are fairly wet from being in the marinade overnight and will need a higher than usual heat to make them caramelize – you’re looking for a deep dark brown color, and a sticky consistency.  This will take the full time the chicken is cooking to achieve.

Serve garnished with chopped parsley, pistachios & thin slices of lemon, and with the onion marmalade on the side (it may not look like much, but it tastes amazing).

Roasted Potatoes with Arugula Pistachio Pesto
(serves 4-6)

2 pounds fingerling potatoes, halved lengthwise
¼ cup extra-virgin olive oil, divided
¾ tsp kosher salt, divided
3/8 tsp freshly ground black pepper, divided
1 ½ cups packed arugula leaves (about 1 ½ oz)
3 Tbsp grated fresh Parmesan cheese
1 ½ Tbsp pistachios
2 tsp water
1 ½ tsp fresh lemon juice
1 garlic clove

Combine 3 Tbsp olive oil, ¼ tsp salt, 1/8 tsp pepper, arugula leaves, Parmesan cheese, pistachios, water, lemon juice, and garlic in a food processor; process until smooth.  Adjust seasoning to taste.

Preheat oven to 400°.  Place a sheet pan in the oven and allow to preheat as the oven comes up to temperature.

Combine potatoes, remaining 1 Tbsp oil, remaining ½ tsp salt and ¼ tsp pepper in a medium bowl; toss well. Arrange potatoes in a single layer on preheated pan.

Roast for 30-35 minutes, turning once, or until potatoes are tender.  Toss hot potatoes with the pesto and serve.

Carottes Râpées

Recipe previously given:  Stuck a Feather in His Cap

Roasted Beet Salad

Recipe previously given:  On a Mission

All right y’all, I need to have a conversation (okay, monologue) about a distressing recent trend in food television. By which I mean I want to talk about the television which is more about gluttony and conspicuous over consumption than it is about food. There are lots of food shows I find boring (Sandwich King), or pointless (Chef vs. City), or repetitive (Diners, Drive-ins & Dives), but lately there have started to be shows that I find actively offensive.

Man vs. Food Nation (Travel Channel)
Heat Seekers (Food TV)
Around the World in 80 Plates (Bravo)

These are shows that aren’t about cooking, or about appreciating food, but instead are about celebrating excess. In Man vs. Food Nation the host travels the US finding and competing in local food challenges – eating a 72 oz steak in Nashville, slurping down more than 422 oysters in an hour in Mobile, partaking of a 5 lb omelet in Oahu. Or Heat Seekers, in which the two hosts travel around the US trying to find and eat the spiciest food. There’s nothing in particular wrong with that, both hosts are professed heat hounds, but the way they approach the food is as a hurdle to be overcome, not as something to savor or enjoy.

The show that really annoyed me, however, is the new show on Bravo, Around the World in 80 Plates. I was actually looking forward to this show and specifically set a recording for the first episode so that I wouldn’t miss it. Sadly it ended up disappointing me on two levels. Firstly, I was really uncomfortable with the glorification of gluttony that it demonstrated. And secondly, it made me have a lot less respect for the two chefs who are hosting the series.

The premise of the show is that 12 chef contestants will travel around the world sampling local cuisine and then trying to recreate and reinvent it for locals, best dish wins, worst dish nets the chef a ticket home. In the precise words of the show’s website:

In each episode, the contestants will travel to a different international city where they will learn the local customs, cultures, and cuisines as they participate in a gauntlet of culinary challenges.

Apparently, however, what they mean by ‘sample the local cuisine’ is ‘force it down as rapidly as possible ‘in a race against the other contestants for an ‘ingredient advantage’. In the first episode the chefs had to eat their way through plates of black pudding hash, fish & chips, steak & kidney pie, and drink their way through a variety of classic British pub quaffs (Pimms Cup, yard of ale, pint of Scrumpy) as fast as possible because whoever cleaned their plate first won.

To me there was nothing in that competition that suggested the chefs had learned anything about local customs, cultures or cuisines. They learned who could cram food in their mouth the fastest and who could do a keg stand, but if any of them learned anything about traditional (or reinvented) English pub food I’d be shocked. And, by extension, I’d be surprised if any viewers came away with any greater appreciation or understanding for British culture and food – and that is very clearly the other, albeit unstated, premise for the show. If they wanted to to highlight local cultures and cuisines, but still involve a challenge there were other ways they could have achieved this – send contestants on a hunt around London for specific ingredients, have them do blind taste tests of unfamiliar dishes and guess the ingredients (I’m pretty sure that none of those chefs had had black pudding hash before).

The show is co-hosted by Cat Cora and Curtis Stone. Now I don’t have much of an opinion about one way or another about Curtis Stone, although he’s always seemed like a decent person and is an advocate for healthier eating campaigns. Cat Cora, on the other hand, I have always really admired as a woman who has succeeded and thrived in a highly male dominated world and still seems to have a sense of humor. She’s also one of the chefs who went to New Orleans in the days after Katrina and opened kitchens on the street to feed people, and I have nothing but respect for those folks.

I find this show a particular jarring juxtaposition with the heavily promoted documentary, “Hunger Hits Home” which aired recently on the Food Network about the endemic problem of child hunger in the US. I know that Around the World in 80 Plates in on Bravo not The Food Network, but both Cat Cora and Curtis Stone have been very public advocates for ending child hunger and I find their hosting a show that celebrates and encourages such pointless excess disappointing, and sadly makes me think less of them as people. I wish there was some way to express my unease with what I saw in a way that would have an impact with the show’s creators, but I suspect the best I can do is not watch and donate to Share Our Strength, or some other similar charity.

(baked) Chicken Parmesan
Braised Garlic Bread
Green Beans
Salad

(baked) Chicken Parmesan

Recipe previously given: The Merits of Gloating

Braised Garlic Bread

Recipe previously given: 3 Weeks Ago . . . Or, Dear Food & Wine

Green Beans

Salad

Very occasionally aphorisms come true. In the first instance, virtue was both its own reward and the early bird caught the worm. Or, put another way, a couple of weekends ago I got myself up and dressed on Saturday morning long before I actually wanted to be awake and took myself off to the grocery store to get it out of the way so that I could have time for the more interesting parts of my weekend. The reward for my virtue? I scored two of the few bundles of early local asparagus at Wilson Farms. In fact, I had a bag of green beans in my hand when I spied the slender green stalks of local asparagus out of the corner of my eye, turned around, dumped out the green beans and grabbed for the asparagus. It’s possible the Produce Manager at Wilson Farms laughed at me a little when I squeaked in excitement. Ask me if I cared; I had asparagus.

Since then I have eaten asparagus at every opportunity I can manufacture, and I have indulged in what is basically my favorite quick Spring dinner three times in ten days – which is to say, pan seared asparagus over arugula and topped with runny fried eggs. If you drizzle leftover spicy ranch dressing over the whole thing, it’s even better.

Other aphorisms that are occasionally painfully true; If you don’t like the weather in Boston, just wait 45 minutes. Some weeks I manage to coordinate what I’m serving with the weather nicely, and some weeks I’m really off the mark. Spring and Fall are particularly difficult in terms of predicting what the weather’s going to be doing four days after you make your menu plan. In Spring and Fall the weather can change radically between when I check it last thing at night before I go to bed, and when I wake up and get dressed seven hours later. However, this week I managed to totally nail it. I’m little smug about how perfectly I merged Spring bounty (asparagus & (okay not actually local) rhubarb) with rainy cold New England Spring weather (roasted butternut squash soup & grilled cheese sandwiches).

Roasted Butternut Squash Soup
Grown Up Grilled Cheese Sandwiches (two ways)
Grilled Asparagus Salad with Pickled Rhubarb

Roasted Butternut Squash Soup
Confession. I don’t really have a recipe for this soup. It’s more of a throw things in a pot and figure it’ll all work out in the end kind of deal. Sometimes I add some fresh ginger. Sometimes I add some curry powder. Sometimes I leave out the cider. Sometimes I use pears instead of apples. Sometimes I add some maple syrup, sometimes I use honey or brown sugar. Sometimes I don’t bother to roast the squash and just simmer it until it’s tender and then puree. It all depends on what I have in my fridge when I make it, what kind of flavor profile I’m in the mood for, and how much time I have.

A rough rule of thumb for pretty much all pureed vegetable soups is 2-3 cups of liquid per 1 lb of raw vegetable (zucchini, butternut squash, sweet potato, acorn squash, cauliflower, etc.). I usually start with 2 cups/lb and then thin as needed/desired, but I also like my soups on the thick side – somewhere closer to a puree than a liquid, so you may want to add more liquid.

However, for the record and posterity this is how I made it for Dinner.

5 lb butternut squash* (+ olive oil, molasses, salt, pepper & cinnamon)
1 Tbsp olive oil
1 Tbsp butter
3 apples, peeled & chopped
2 large white onions, chopped
6 cloves garlic, minced (although don’t get too fussy about this, it’s all going to be pureed)
1 tsp cinnamon
¼ tsp cloves
¼ tsp allspice
1 tsp garam masala
Salt/pepper
2 cups apple cider
3 cups chicken or vegetable stock
5 cups water
Juice of 2 lemons
2-4 Tbsp maple syrup (to taste)

Preheat the oven to 350/375. Line a sheet pan with foil and coat very lightly with some oil. Cut the butternut squash in half lengthwise and scoop out the seeds. Season cut side generously with salt, pepper, cinnamon, a drizzle of molasses, and a drizzle of olive oil. Turn cut side down and roast 45-60 minutes, until very tender. As soon as it comes out of the oven turn the squash over so it is cut side up (it’ll glue itself to the foil otherwise). Allow to cool for 15-20 minutes and then peel off the skin (it’ll peel right off – much easier than trying to do it right out of the oven).

Meanwhile (or the next night – roasted squash refrigerates nicely over night). . . . Saute the onion, apple and garlic in the olive oil & butter until tender, but not browned. Add the spices and stir to coat. Cook for about a minute to bloom the spices. Then add all the liquid, lemon juice, and roasted squash. Bring to a boil, then reduce to a simmer and cook for 20-30 minutes.

Puree until very smooth. Stir in the maple syrup (start slow and add more as desired), adjust seasoning to taste with more spices, salt, pepper, lemon juice. Thin to desired consistency.

Serve as is, or get fancy and top with some finely diced apple & a dusting of garam masala.

* 5 lb of butternut squash will net you something on the order of over a gallon of soup. It freezes well, and I made a ridiculous amount so that I would have lots leftover for lunches and future dinners. I’m guessing that 5lb of squash serves about 12 for dinner, and 16 for lunch.

Grown Up Grilled Cheese Sandwiches (two ways)

Version 1 – For the Goat Cheese Lovers Among Us (makes 4 sandwiches)

8 slices cinnamon raisin bread
4 oz goat cheese
2 tsp honey
¼ tsp lemon zest
2 Tbsp fig jam
2 Tbsp thinly sliced basil

Mix the goat cheese, honey and lemon zest together. Adjust seasoning to taste (may need salt/pepper/lemon juice).

Spread the goat cheese mixture on four slices of bread. Spread the fig jam on the remaining 4 slices of bread and top with sliced basil. Close sandwiches.

Brush both sides of sandwiches with melted butter and grill/toast in a pan until golden brown and melty.

Version 2 – For the Goat Cheese Averse (there are people like this) (makes 4 sandwiches)
8 slices cranberry rosemary bread (or some other fruit/nut/herb bread combination)
4 oz fresh ricotta (get the good stuff)
¼ tsp lemon zest
2 Tbsp marmalade
1 tsp minced rosemary

Mix the ricotta and lemon zest together. Adjust seasoning to taste (may need salt/pepper/lemon juice/honey).

Mix the marmalade and rosemary together.

Spread the ricotta mixture on four slices of bread. Spread the marmalade mixture on the remaining 4 slices of bread and top with sliced basil. Close sandwiches.

Brush both sides of sandwiches with melted butter and grill/toast in a pan until golden brown and melty.

To make grilled cheese for a crowd (thank you America’s Test Kitchen)
Preheat oven to 450. Place two baking sheets in the oven to heat for 10 minutes.

Assemble your sandwiches and have them ready to go.

Remove one baking sheet from the oven and arrange sandwiches on it. Top with the other baking sheet and return the baking sheet sandwich to the oven for 5-6 minutes, until sandwiches are golden brown and melty.

If you have only one baking sheet, or are doing a double batch of sandwiches, arrange sandwiches in a single layer and bake for 3-4 minutes, carefully flip and bake for another 3-4 minutes until both sides are golden brown.

I will confess to being a little dubious that this would work, but I shouldn’t have doubted ATK. This works spectacularly well and gave me perfectly crispy toasty bread with gooey melted cheese.

Grilled Asparagus Salad with Pickled Rhubarb

Having waxed rhapsodic about the asparagus I don’t seem to have managed to take a single picture of either it, or of the salad.

I anticipated local rhubarb in the store slightly before I should have. So, the rhubarb I pickled for salad this week is not actually local, but I was too wedded to the idea of the grilled asparagus and pickled rhubarb salad to give up on it despite this minor setback. So, while technically somewhere in Massachusetts there is local rhubarb, the rhubarb in tonight’s dinner actually came from the Netherlands. We’ll chalk it up to patriotism vs. locavore food cred and leave it at that.

Asparagus
Arugula (or other green leafy thing of choice)
Oranges, sectioned
Pickled Rhubarb

Trim the asparagus and toss lightly with olive oil, salt and pepper. Either grill on a grill, grill pan, or pan sear until tender (about 5-10 minutes depending on method + size of your asparagus).

Arrange the grilled asparagus over the arugula, orange sections, and pickled rhubarb. Drizzle with dressing of choice (I usually make one from the leftover orange juice and some white wine vinegar + olive oil).

Serve.

Pickled Rhubarb
5 stalks rhubarb thinly sliced (about 1/4-1/3″ wide)
1 cup apple cider vinegar
1 cup sugar
1 tsp salt
1 small stick cinnamon
4 whole all spice
6 black peppercorns

Heat the cider, sugar, salt and spices until the sugar just dissolves.  Pour over the rhubarb.  Allow to cool on the counter for 3 hours.  Refrigerate until very cold.  Will keep about 3 weeks (assuming it lasts that long in your fridge).

I have a confession.  I need my cookbooks to have pictures.  This makes me feel like a little kid, but when I’m faced with a cookbook that’s just text I get lost and overwhelmed.  I need pretty pictures of the food to go with the recipes.  Partially this is for the simple reason that I believe in white space on the page like some people believe in the power of a good martini at 5pm on a Friday*.  Partially it is because, like many people, I eat with my eyes first and I need/like to be enticed by what something looks like as well as by the description of the ingredients.  And partially, it’s because I’m shallow and I just like the glossy food porn quality of the current cookbook market.

Case in point, as I perused Faith Durand’s “Not Your Mother’s Casserole’s” I was seduced – in order – by the pictures, the ingredient list, and how easy she promised it was going to be to make the recipes.  On the other side of the spectrum is Raghaven Iyer’s encyclopedic “660 Curries” which my roommate kindly lugged home from the library for me.  It is, without a doubt, everything I have ever needed to know about making a curry, in any iteration I could possibly desire.  It also has no pictures, about three recipes per page and is so overwhelming that the odds I can even identify a recipe in it that I want to make are stacked against me.  It’s too much information, too thorough, and just too much.  I feel like it would, for me at least, have been a more effective primer if he had picked one or two variations on each curry (as opposed to every iteration) and then teased my palate with pictures of the finished dish (or even of the spices in the dish).  That being said, having made my roommate bring it all the way across Boston I will attempt to take it in sections and note down the recipes that seem particularly appealing.

I also find that when I’m scouring the internet for recipes – either for inspiration for dinner, or for a recipe that will fill a specific craving I’m having (or use up a bunch of disparate ingredients lingering in my fridge) – that I will focus on the recipes that come with pictures, and skip over the ones that are just text.  Again, some of this is just an aesthetic preference, but there’s also a marginally good reason for my pickiness.  I want to know what the finished dish is supposed to look like so that when I go to make it I’ll know whether I’ve done something wrong (or, for a more positive spin, if I’ve done it right) when I get to the end of it.  Sometimes having seen a picture of the finished dish will let you make that logical leap between the written instructions and what you’re supposed to end up with – like, your sauce is supposed to be thicker than what you have in your pan, or X ingredient is supposed to break down and therefore needs to cook a little longer than the recipe specifies (or conversely, you should be careful not to cook it too long because it’s supposed to remain intact in your dish).

So in conclusion, shallow but occasionally shallow with a good reason.

* Replace the martini with a manhattan and I fervently believe in that too.

Meatballs Braised in Coconut Sauce
Rice Noodle Salad with Tamarind Sauce
Roasted Cabbage
Kale Salad with Peanut Dressing

Meatballs Braised in Coconut Sauce
(serves 4)

Having said that I like pretty pictures of my food, this is not a dish that takes a particularly attractive portrait.  It is, however, very tasty despite that failing.

This is a loose rendition of the recipe in Faith Durand’s cookbook.  I made my version a whole lot more complicated than her version, although it was still pretty easy.

I made 1 ½ times the recipe (i.e. 1 ½ lb of ground turkey), and accordingly made 1 ½ times the sauce recipe.  Next time I would scale the sauce back by ¼ to 1/3 – i.e. I would only make 1 times the sauce for 1 ½ times the meatballs.  Also, I would serve it with rice – which, to be fair, I knew I should do this week too but I was more in the mood for rice noodle salad than rice – because the rice would make it easier to scoop up and eat the yummy sauce.

Lemongrass Chicken Meatballs
(make 1x recipe – i.e. 1 lb of ground turkey)

Recipe previously given:  Kung Hei Fat Choi

Coconut Sauce
1 (14 oz) can coconut milk (light, or regular, or a mix)
2 tsp cornstarch
2” piece of ginger, grated
¼ cup thinly sliced shallots (or red onion)
½ cup chicken stock
¼ tsp chili powder
Zest & juice of 1 lime
1 tsp honey/brown sugar (optional)
¼ tsp garam masala

Whisk ¼ cup of coconut milk with the cornstarch in a small bowl.  Reserve.

Saute the ginger and shallots in a little vegetable oil until fragrant.  Add the chili powder and garam masala and cook for 30 seconds.  Add the remaining coconut milk and chicken stock.  Bring to a simmer, then whisk in the coconut milk-cornstarch slurry.  Cook over a low heat until slightly thickened.  Whisk in the lime zest and juice and season to taste (will take a fair amount of salt – up to ½ tsp).

Braise
Preheat oven to 400.

Arrange the meatballs in a lightly greased baking dish and roast for 15 minutes*.

Reduce the oven heat to 350.

Pour the coconut sauce over the meatballs and bake for another 15-20 minutes, or until sauce is bubbling and meatballs are tender.

* 1 ½ lb of ground turkey netted me 25 meatballs, which I could just squeeze into a 9×13 pan.  I actually own a roasting pan that is basically the size of my oven (it lives on top of my fridge because I don’t have a cupboard big enough to house it), so if I wanted to make this in bulk I could, but I suspect that most people do not own roasting pans this size.  You could, in that case, roast the meatballs on a baking tray and then transfer them to a casserole dish and pour the sauce over to finish cooking – once the meatballs have baked for 15 minutes they are firm enough that jumbling them over each other won’t break them up, and as long as they’re covered by sauce they’ll do the braising thing they’re supposed to do.

Rice Noodle Salad with Tamarind Sauce

Rice noodles (figure about 1 ½ – 2 oz dry noodles/person)
Mangos, julienned or diced small
Red Peppers, diced small
Cucumbers, halved, seeded and thinly sliced on the diagonal
Mint, roughly chopped
Lime Wedges, on side for serving

Prepare rice noodles according to instructions on package (usually some variation on 3 minutes in boiling water/drain & rinse).  Toss with just enough sesame oil and lime juice to keep them from sticking together.  Allow to cool.

Toss the cooled rice noodles with the other ingredients.  Generously drizzle tamarind sauce over the top.  Serve with lime wedges and additional tamarind sauce on the side.

Tamarind Sauce
(makes ½ cup)

2 Tbsp brown sugar
6 Tbsp water
1 Tbsp lime juice
1 Tbsp tamarind concentrate
1 Tbsp soy sauce
1 clove garlic, minced
1 tsp finely slivered fresno (or other mild) chili, seeded
(optional – 1 tsp cilantro)

Combine the sugar and water in a small saucepan over medium heat and warm until the sugar dissolves.  Remove pan from heat and add lime juice, tamarind concentrate and soy sauce.  Whisk until smooth.  Allow to cool then stir in garlic, chili (and cilantro if using).  Adjust seasoning to taste – the sauce should be tangy and slightly sour.

Roasted Cabbage
(serves 4-6)
Resist the urge to make this with red cabbage.  It seems like the red cabbage will look spectacular (and it will), but it will also never get crispy.

1 head green cabbage
¼ cup vegetable oil
1 ½ Tbsp grated ginger
1 ½ tsp coriander
Juice of 1 lemon
Salt/pepper

Preheat oven to 400.

Mix the vegetable oil, ginger and coriander and lemon juice.

Slice the cabbage into ½ – ¾” thick wedges and arrange carefully on a sheet pan.  Brush each side of the cabbage wedge with the seasoned oil (you may not need all of it).  Season generously with salt and pepper.

Roast for 25-30 minutes, turning once (carefully), or until cabbage is crispy and tender.

Kale Salad with Peanut Dressing

Recipe previously given:  Oscars 2012

In the late ‘90s there was a show on HBO called Oz which was all about life inside a maximum security prison (it was a lot better than I just made it sound – the writing was fantastic). Anyway, it was the quintessential ‘don’t get too attached to this character’ show. On the one hand, this was terrible because sometimes your favorite characters ended up getting shived out of nowhere. And, on the other hand, when there was a really irritating character you could shout ‘just die already’ at your TV with a fair chance that it might actually happen. The downside is that after watching eight seasons of Oz some of that attitude spilled over into other areas of our life – some of it TV related, and some of it really not. Case in point, there are some food trends I would like to just die already . . . .

Bacon in places it doesn’t belong
Do not get me wrong, I love bacon. I love it melted into stews, and as crispy bits in salads, and lacquered with maple syrup and black pepper alongside my plate of eggs for brunch. Where I do not love it? Ice cream. Chocolate. Brownies. Chocolate Chip Cookies. I get the whole salty & sweet thing, and the different textures – crunchy & smooth, but bacon still doesn’t belong in my brownies.

Cupcakeries
Very few things elicit quite so much vitriol amongst a certain subsection of the population (aka Dinner) as the cupcake bakery. This is mostly because 98% of cupcake stores turn out substandard baked good for exorbitant prices, and even if I know better than to buy them I altruistically object to other, less canny, individuals being gypped out of their hard earned money by stale cake and overly sweet frosting. Also, they’re taking up valuable dessert real estate that could be dedicated to other, better, dessert items, like say popsicles.

Red Velvet Anything
I would particularly like the red velvet cupcake to move off the front page. Red Velvet cake/cupcakes are fine, but let’s be honest here the most interesting part of red velvet cake is the color and the amount of cream cheese frosting you can spread on top. Red Velvet Cake is basically a white cake with a lot of red food coloring, and while there’s nothing wrong with that, there’s also nothing all that exciting about it either. Unless it’s shaped like an armadillo and covered in grey icing, in which case I take back everything I just said.

I also polled Dinner (& honorary Dinner members who live elsewhere) about what things they’d like to consign to the fiery furnace, and got the following responses:

Frozen Yogurt
It’s looking like the new cupcake store is going to be the tart frozen yogurt shop (think Pink Berry and Berry Freeze). Google maps suggest that there are at least five different frozen yogurt vendors in the Back Bay area – including two that are directly across the street from each other. And that doesn’t include all the local ice cream places that also produce tart frozen yogurt, like JP Licks. This is actually not one of my particular pet peeves, I really like tart frozen yogurt and since I neither live nor work near any of the many many frozen yogurt vendors it’s a special weekend, marginally out of my way, treat for me. However, other people at Dinner work in places where a second frozen yogurt shop is opening shortly and would have liked for at least one of these frozen confection locations to be dedicated to the gourmet popsicle instead (look, we were all seduced by the popsicles at Meltdown when we were in New Orleans last summer).

Salted Caramel Anything
Exact comment, “Not saying it’s not good . . . . but so are a lot of other things.” Followed with, “Die in a fire salted caramel.”
It should be noted that there was vehement disagreement about this assertion from other members of Dinner. I’m ambivalent on the subject, mostly because unless it’s the only thing on offer caramel isn’t a flavor I tend towards. I usually opt for mint, chocolate, or citrus flavored things instead. Entertainingly, what appeared in my food blog feed this morning but a recipe for a Salted Chocolate Caramel Tart.

Menus that are pretentious to the point of incoherence
I’m talking about the menus that make you feel stupid, or like an overly picky eater, because they’re so spare that you can’t actually figure out what’s being offered. For example “Carrot, Barley, Yogurt” to me is not a dish description. Is that a salad? Is it a dip? Is it warm, cold? Or, “Hake, Crab, Citrus” is that cooked or raw? Because braised, roasted, broiled, or panfried and that could be tasty, raw and I probably don’t want to order it. I object to having to ask the waiter to then describe each dish for me – it’s a waste of their time, plus it makes me feel like I’m being insufficiently ‘foodie’ to be seated at the restaurant. I don’t want to be judged by the menu.

On the flip side are the menus that list the provenance of each and every single ingredient. The farm-to-table restaurant is particularly guilty of this sin. I’m all for local sourcing of ingredients, but I don’t need to know what precise field my mushrooms and spinach were dug up from. Put a list of vendors at the back of the menu and have done with it, otherwise I start worrying that someone somewhere has named my chicken and I’m eating some child’s beloved pet. Also, it just makes reading the menu exhausting.

Thus endeth the vitriol for the week (hopefully).

Ham Steaks
Roasted Butternut Squash & Grapes
Apple Sauce
Green Beans

In my defense, I did not know it was going to unseasonably summer-like when I planned this menu (89 on Monday/80 on Tuesday). When I planned this menu I was thinking about the two ham steaks in my freezer, and how I needed ¾ lb of butternut squash for another dinner this week, and oooh apple sauce. I was assuming that the weather would hold steady with the mid-60s sunshine that we’ve been enjoying for the past couple of weeks and thought I’d sneak one last wintery-ish meal in before the end of the season. I was foiled by New England (don’t like the weather . . . . just wait 45 minutes). It was still tasty, just a trifle out of step with the temperature.

Ham Steaks

Roasted Butternut Squash & Grapes

Recipe previously given: Cleaning Up the Fridge

Apple Sauce

Recipe previously given: Bangers-n-Mash

Green Beans
Tossed with olive oil, salt, pepper and lots of minced garlic and lemon zest, which is my new favorite way to ingest yet a little more garlic.

Dear Everyone in the Food Industry:

Please stop tormenting me with exciting recipes for Spring produce. Yes, we’re having an early Spring (the fact that we’re having Spring at all is kind of remarkable) here in the Northeast, but it’s not that early. It’s not that I begrudge you your access to fresh produce after a long winter (except for how I totally do). It’s not that I don’t want you to post recipes for Spring sandwiches filled with hard boiled eggs, pickled onions and seared asparagus, and gorgeous appetizers of crostini with strawberries and peashoots, and noodles with kale & spicy rhubarb sauce (just so you know, y’all, this is getting made the instant I see rhubarb at the store); I can (and do) bookmark them for later experimentation and consumption. It’s just that, well, I’m positively green-eyed with jealousy of your Spring bounty.

I have very carefully not been asking Wilson Farms how much longer I have to wait for local asparagus, and fresh green spring peas, mostly because I have a feeling the answer is going to be 6-8 more weeks and very rarely on a Saturday morning am I up for feeling that depressed.

You can chart how desperate I am for seasonal produce by how many pounds of citrus I bring home every week. In the early Winter I can contentedly gorge myself on squash and chard, and enjoy the crisp Fall weather as the perfect excuse to roast everything in sight. By late Winter/early Spring, however, I’m hauling home grapefruit, crates of mandarin oranges (and after that season passes, bags upon bags of cara cara oranges), and going through lemons and limes like I’m worried we’re all going to succumb to scurvy any second now. I’m indulging in pineapple at every opportunity, and taking advantage of the fact that somewhere tropical it’s mango season and for the past month ripe, sweet mangos have been on sale every time I set foot in a Whole Foods.

And yet none of that fills the craving for asparagus that’s been picked that morning, or field ripened strawberries, or freshly unearthed new potatoes. Pineapple and mangos are delightful, but they don’t say Spring like a spear of asparagus does. In the meantime, while I await Spring produce with greater and lesser degrees of patience, we had light salad dinner that anticipated Summer, while acknowledging the flavors of Winter.

Cajun Chicken Salad
w/ apples, bacon, dried figs, candied pepitas
Pomegranate Roasted Tomatoes
Savory Oatmeal Cookies

Cajun Chicken Salad

Served this week with sliced apples, some crumbled crisp bacon, wedges of dried figs and candied pepitas.

Recipe previously given: Cajun Chicken Salad

Pomegranate Roasted Tomatoes
Mostly because I had them leftover from the pre-dinner nibble part of Easter Dinner.

Recipe previously given: Playing Parlor Games

Savory Oatmeal Cookies
(makes about 2 dozen 1-Tbsp sized cookies)

I saw this recipe last week and could barely hang on until Tuesday to make them. These are exactly as fantastic as the recipe name and the ingredient list suggests they will be, and what’s more they’re ridiculously easy to throw together. On second thought that last bit might be really dangerous.

Having made these with parmesan and rosemary, I now want to play around with the cheese/herb combination because these would work with any cheese that’s hard enough to grate. I want to try them with gruyere and thyme, and with an aged Gouda and thyme (and serve them with a dollop of apple butter on the side). I also want to try making them a little larger and incorporating some chopped dried cranberries (particularly with the gruyere version), or chopped dried apples (with the aged Gouda variation).

I served these as part of dinner, but they’d be great as a pre-dinner nibble, or as part of a plated luncheon, or on a cheese tray with some fruit.

1 cup rolled oats (not quick cooking)
¼ cup warm water
1/3 cup olive oil
1 egg
¼ cup (scant) brown sugar, lightly packed
1 cup flour
¼ tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp pepper
1 cup parmesan
2 tsp minced rosemary
Flakey sea salt (like Maldon or fleur de sel)

Preheat oven to 350. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper, or a baking sheet.

Sprinkle the warm water over the oats in a large bowl.

Whisk together the olive oil, egg and brown sugar. Add to the oat mixture and stir to combine. Allow to sit for 5 minutes.

Sift together the flour, baking soda, salt and pepper. Mix in the parmesan and rosemary.

Add the flour mixture to the oat mixture and stir to combine. This will make a very stiff dough, and I ended up mixing in the last of the streaks of flour with my hands because it was easier than using a spoon.

Form 1 Tbsp scoops of dough and place on the lined cookie sheet (you can place them fairly close together, they don’t spread much). Use your fingers to flatten to ¼” thick disk. Sprinkle with a little of the flakey salt. Bake for 15-18 minutes, or until edges are slightly darkened. Cool on a cooling rack.