Dutch Baby For One: A February Recipe Swap

As we do almost every month, a group of us reinvented a vintage recipe. This month's inspiration is Stuffed French Pancakes, taken from an old book called The Second Ford Treasury of Favorite Recipes from Famous Eating Places.

When necessary, I sulk in chocolate. And Dutch Baby pancakes don't like sulkers. My experiment with this month's recipe swap was a flop. Another way of looking at; it was an opportunity to learn how something does not work. As it turns out, this sulky little chocolate pancake is a metaphor for my resolution this year: Don't pack too much into the pan.

It's too much. 

This year, if it doesn't fit into a few buckets, it's out. I'm saying "no" to more projects, which means saying "yes" to more things I have made it a priority to work on this year. More travel. More motorcycling. More blogging. More friends. Less overcommitting, fewer overwhelming statements, ideas and goals.

The book list this year is pared down to something reasonable so at the end of the year a dozen leftover books aren't mocking me in an untouched pile. The goals have been broken up into bits that can be achieved. This act takes a village, no kidding. Just gaining clarity takes precision, expertise, and some not-so-comforting self-reflection, at times. Sabrina at The Tomato Tart is helping me clarify my mission and rebrand this blog, and Alissa Finerman is helping me break my professional goals into achievable chunks. With their help this year, perhaps the failed Dutch Baby pancake recipe will be the only thing I over-stuffed.

Just right.

Everything is change. Lemony change.

It has been a busy year. The kind of year where one can forget one's own passions given the work load. Somehow, new passions have sprung up, and those lying dormant reignited in this humble recipe swap post.

For those new to the Recipe Swap, every month, I release a vintage recipe from an old cookbook, and twenty-some of us each remake it in our own ways, using the original recipe as inspiration for our own creations. This talented lot of food bloggers link their blogs below so you can see the collection of them. Please take the time see how we each interpreted this month's recipe; Lemon Sponge Pie!

On a snooty whim about seven years ago, in my Brooklyn kitchen, I made a souffle a day until I perfected it. It took me most of the month. (So Brooklyn.) Now, it kinda feels like getting back on a bicycle after not being on one for years, which was really helpful today, having not been in my kitchen for a month. That feels like years, in these parts. Strapped for time, out of ideas for interpreting this recipe, I took a bunch of lemons and the muscle memory of perfected souffle, and went to work. So quickly, in fact, that I didn't write the recipe down, in a linear fashion, anyway.

Lemon souffle.

Here's what I came up with.

Lemon Souffle
Burwell General Store

Grab a glass of wine. It is Sunday afternoon, and it has been a long week.
The best start to a souffle is to first respect the fact that it is simultaneously the most simple and complicated thing to make.
Separate enough eggs.
Whip the whites, gently but sternly.
Beat the yolks, but not too much.
Notice the change. Those were originally a bunch of eggs. Now, they are a result of the proper mixture of air and effort.
Add lemon, flour, sugar, salt, in proper measure.
Combine everything back together, carefully. Empty your head while doing this specific part. No shopping lists, no leftover upset thoughts. Just relax.
Butter a ramekin and coax the batter in.
Bake in a hot oven, about 400F and put the Do Not Disturb sign on the front.
It will rise if left alone. It will also fall in a fashion, sometimes desired.
Grab a spoon and eat it anyway, because sugar, cream and lemon cannot be a bad thing.

A scrawled guide, mostly unused.

I love these recipe swaps, and not necessarily because I create read-and-print recipes. In fact, the last few times, they represent time I've spent absent-mindedly doing something, in months where every moment of my day is scheduled, rescheduled and problem-solved. That's what I do for a living, so it is nice on occasion to do "nothing" but still have something to show for it.

Welcome to another Recipe Swap!

By now, you know the drill, I release a vintage recipe every month to a fantastic group of bloggers, and we each remake the recipe in our own ways, coming up with original results! Last month, we split the swap into two groups, so this is the Wednesday group's first outing! Welcome.

The Jell-o and cottage cheese recipe seemed inevitable in a vintage recipe exchange, and this week, we are putting our takes on Orange Snowflake Salad. I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with.

Whole Wheat Focaccia

Welcome to another recipe swap!

Today is the first day of our Recipe Swap split! (Don't know what the Recipe Swap is? Click here.) Our group is growing at a record pace, and we felt it was time to split into two smaller groups so we can all keep track of each other. Starting today, half of us will continue swapping recipes on the first Sunday of every month, and the rest of us will post on the second Wednesday of each month. The next group posts on Wednesday, March 14, so be sure to visit us then!

I thought there was no better way to split the group than to take a recipe from facing pages of the same book, giving one recipe to each group to remake. This Sunday's challenge is a tough one; pizza. Difficult, because pizza is so identifiable, which to me, means "hard to reinvent."

Whole wheat sun-dried tomato, garlic and oregano focaccia

My taste buds are native to springy, chewy, airy white flour. In my kitchen, converting recipes to whole wheat, healthier versions means converting recipes to less fun. But, a goal of mine this year is to create healthified versions of standby recipes. The original pizza recipe became a needed version of my focaccia recipe; a whole wheat, double rise version of flatbread, perfect for slicing and making into sandwiches.

I'm fascinated with yeast. I wish we all could eat endless sugar and fart carbon dioxide for magical results. I love watching it activate and rise, and kneading dough takes me to a happy place. Baking reminds me of working with clay; deciding how long to knead, when to rest, how to shape. Potters and bakers both participate in avocations that take the edges off of a day by distracting the mind with the need to concentrate on touch, shape and form. But, there's a tactical side to all of that. The first thing one must do when taking the plunge into the wonders of yeast is to get a digital scale. It does not need to be fancy. It just needs to be accurate. Mine is a $5 IKEA model that I've had for about three years. I now take the opportunity to convert every recipe I revisit from volume measures to weights. As a result, accuracy, certainty and self-confidence goes up.

The recipe below makes four focaccia. I won't lie, it takes most of a day. But, a beautiful day off it can be, one of cultivating patience and working with your hands. I did yoga while waiting for the second rise of the breads, allowing me official entry into some sort of SoCal Venice Beach-living stereotype contest. I ate mine with just a little of my favorite marinara sauce, warmed, on the side. The rest I split and froze to use for future lunch sandwiches.

Thanks all, for reading. We are all so grateful for your support of the Recipe Swap. We have a blast reinventing recipes; I hope you have as much fun reading them, and are inspired to get into your own kitchens. Please say hello in the comments below, and be sure to visit everyone's remake of the same recipe in the links below.

Whole Wheat Focaccia
Burwell General Store

Serves: 8, makes four breads

Notes: this is a very high-water recipe. Do not dismay. It will come together.

Equipment:
Stand mixer with dough hook attachment
two half sheet pans
digital metric scale

Better living through IKEA

Ingredients:
390 grams organic All-purpose flour
224 grams organic Whole Wheat flour
476 g warm water (100F)
1 tsp dry yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 tsp brown sugar (I used demerara)

Toppings:
1/4 cup sun dried tomatoes, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 tsp dried oregano
1 Tbsp salt
Extra virgin olive oil

Before the second rise

In the bowl of a stand mixer, place the dried yeast. Add warm water (not in excess of 100F) and sugar, stir and let activate while preparing other ingredients. Turn stand mixer onto low setting and gradually combine the flours and salt into the bowl. Turn off the mixer and scrape down the sides, then turn mixer up to medium-high speed and mix with a dough hook for approximately 20 minutes, or until the dough is mostly pulled away from the sides of the bowl. Scrape dough into a large, oiled bowl, coat with a thin layer of oil, and cover loosely with plastic wrap. Set in a warm place out of direct sunlight, and let double in volume, about two to three hours. While waiting, lightly oil two baking sheets with canola or another high-temp cooking oil. Punch down the dough and remove to a large, lightly floured board, and divide the dough into four equal parts. With floured hands, gently stretch the dough into long, flat sections, and place on the baking sheets. After all four are formed, let rise again on the cookie sheets for about 45 minutes. After the second rise, take your fingers and punch down into the dough, creating dimples (giving the breads texture). Salt liberally, add toppings of your choice, and drizzle tops with a little olive oil. Bake at 425F for ten to 13 minutes, or until tops of the outside edges brown.

Remove from oven, let cool for ten minutes before tearing into the focaccia.

Wild Rice Oatmeal

Welcome to another recipe swap! By now, most of you know the drill, I take a recipe from a vintage cookbook, release it to our fantastic group of bloggers, and we each remake the recipe in our own way, posting the results below. We are almost 30 strong now, and starting in March, we are splitting into two groups of 15. Twice the fun, twice the recipes, twice a month. Just like a Doublemint commercial! (Sorry, had to.) Half of us will continue posting on the first Sunday of each month, and the other half take over the second Wednesdays, so keep a watch out for us.

This month's recipe was Wild Rice Dressing. Be sure to check out all of our links below to see how we each reinvented it!

This year, one of my mantras is to simplify. Everything. From errand-running to my exercise routine, my question of the year is "What can I subtract from this moment, this project, this idea to add simplicity?" (Thanks, Coco Chanel and Buddhists everywhere for your inspiration.)

Morning, pot a'twitter.

Botanists help me out here, but wild rice isn't actually rice. It's an aquatic oat. Rice is a reed that grows in water-soaked fields, and oats are typically a dry-land plant. Wild rice is a version of an oat that grows not in dry fields but in wetlands, traditionally along riverbanks and the shallow parts of bodies of water. So, I decided to treat wild rice like its brethren, and make a bowl of oatmeal.

The combination of nutty, earthy wild rice and sweet, toasty maple syrup stopped my blog brain cold in the quiet of a late morning. No running the bowl and props to a window full of light with a bounce card to photograph. No DSLR to document. None of the other things we do as food bloggers. It was just a moment, halted by the discovery of wild rice, butter and maple syrup as a wonderful weekend-morning hot breakfast. I filled the bowl twice, sat, and enjoyed my new discovery. Sorry, oatmeal. Oh, wait, you are oatmeal.

Wild Rice Oatmeal
Burwell General Store

Serves: 2

Since there are few ingredients that make this dish what it is, I suggest using the best you can afford.

Ingredients:
2/3 cup organic wild rice
6-8 cups water
1/2 tsp salt
2 Tbsp really, really good butter: I recommend Plugra unsalted
2 Tbsp grade B maple syrup (it's cheaper, and I think tastes nuttier and fuller than grade A)
cream
raisins and pecans (optional)

Method:
Place wild rice into medium saucepan of boiling, salted water, and cook for 45-50 minutes until grains are completely split open and apart, checking after 30 minutes to make sure the grains are free-moving in the water. Add more water if necessary. When done, drain the wild rice, split into bowls, top with butter, maple syrup and drizzle with cream to taste. Enjoy your morning, perhaps with a side of fruit and cup of coffee.

Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing

Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing

Welcome to another Recipe Swap! We do this every month, our group of 25 bloggers. I release a vintage recipe, and we each remake it in our unique ways. (Please be sure to check out the other swappers' blogs in the links below.) This month, an Italian custardy dessert, Zabaglione, made the cut.

I didn't quite think about this when I released a dessert recipe to be remade for January 8, but after two weeks of eating holiday food, I couldn't bring myself to make, or eat, another dessert. And so went my rationale to turn this Zabaglione into a "healthier" dish. Zabaglione is essentially an egg sauce, so I kept that part of the technique and applied it to an aioli-style dressing to go on a salad. See? That wasn't too painful. The sauces are similar in that both use egg yolks to suspend other ingredients. That's about it for similarity, true, but the result is a creamy, smooth, tangy dressing that can't be bottled; a fresh aioli uses raw egg yolks, so this dressing should be eaten within a day or two after it is made.

Simple lettuce salad tossed with dressing, undoing sins of holiday eating.

So, I bring you a post-holiday idea to undo a little of the holiday diet damage, Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing!

Lemon-Mustard Aioli Dressing
Burwell General Store

Makes: About four ounces, or two family-style salad servings

Ingredients:

Two fresh egg yolks, whites discarded or saved for future use
1/4 cup olive oil
2 tsp shallot, minced
1 Tbsp flat-leaf parsley, minced
1 Tbsp dijon mustard
1 Tbsp whole grain mustard
juice of one lemon (about 1 1/2 Tbsp)
Salt and pepper to taste
lemon wedge and parsley for garnish on salad of your choice

Method:
In a medium-sized metal bowl place two yolks and begin whisking to break up. One spoonful at a time, drizzle in olive oil, whisking constantly to emulsify the yolks and oil. Continue until about a tablespoon of oil remains, (about five minutes) and while whisking, add lemon juice, shallots and parsley. Continue whisking in the remaining oil, adjust taste with salt and pepper. Add more lemon juice if you desire a tangier dressing. Place a layer of cling film directly onto the surface of the dressing and chill in the refrigerator until ready to serve on a salad of your choice. Use within two days of making.

Hey there, radishes.

Peanut Butter Rice Treats - Cookies for Canines

Welcome to another Recipe Swap! Over a year ago, I found an old hymnal with recipes in the back in a junk store, and every month, I release a new recipe to a fantastic group of food bloggers from that book. Last month was our one-year anniversary, so it seemed a good time to switch books to another retired volume; The Second Ford Treasury of Favorite Recipes From Famous Eating Places. This month, we set out to remake the Toll House cookie (originally developed at the Toll House, (photo) a historic inn (history) in Whitman, Massachusetts.) Please make sure to visit all of our pages at the bottom of this post to see how we have each invented our own cookie inspired by this original recipe. We are about 20 strong now, and are an amazing group of talented food types.

There are a lot of cookies being pushed from household to household during this time of year. Over the holidays, food sits around, perhaps more than usual. Out, on counters within snout distance. Unattended on coffee tables, at eye level. Yet, our devoted dogs are met with the same "no eat" rules we apply the rest of the year. It's not fair! So, in honor of our devoted four-legged friends, I made these pup cookies so they can have more food around than usual, too. (Recipe Swappers, forgive me. Can you resist those eyes, below?)

I made them with a very special pup in mind, who I just saw over Thanksgiving. I adopted George the German Shepherd in September of 2006 from the New York Animal Control Center in Harlem. He was a "Day Six" dog, meaning I (in concert with a working dog rescue organization) grabbed him on the last possible day to avoid the mandatory euthanization of pets at the shelter on the seventh day. Fast forward five years, and George is now happy, healthy, spoiled, loyal, stress-free and has a permanent home with my parents, who dote on him like a granddog. He now has a full-time, fulfilling job, keeping them on a very strict feeding, walk and treats schedule.

George the German Shepherd, AKA King George, Georgey, Big G

One year over the holidays, George ate an entire half sheet pan of marshmallows I made and left on the counter to set up. I came home to find him laying in the middle of the room, with an enormous belly, groaning as he breathed. The temptation was just too great, seeing people in the kitchen all day, with nothing dropped on the floor. These treats will be going in a box of holiday gifts to my parents, with instructions to feed liberally; one of the best gifts you can give a dog, in my book.

Happy holidays, everyone! I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the cookie posts.

Peanut Butter Rice Treats - For Pups!

George's Special Treats

Serves: One pup about 36 times, or one pup one time if you leave the bag out.

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cup cooked brown rice cooked in vegetable broth (great use of leftovers)
2-3 cups whole wheat flour
1/2 cup peanut butter (crunchy or creamy)
1 cup hot water

Method:
In a large bowl, combine all ingredients, adding more flour as necessary to knead into a stiff dough. Roll out about 1/4" thick, cut with a cookie cutter and place directly onto a baking sheet. Bake at 350F, and leaving in the oven, turn off the oven and leave overnight. If the treats are still a little pliable in the morning, leave them out on the stovetop for a couple of hours.

Notes: Yes, I tried them. They're edible. Vaguely peanut-buttery. With a touch of vegetable broth. If the pup likes them and doesn't poop them out too quickly, I have done my work.

Maple Molasses Spice Cake

Maple Molasses Spice Cake, with homemade maple syrup.

Around this time last year, I found a recipe book at a swap meet that contained recipes with instructions like “bake in a medium oven until done.” I love these kinds of books, and they’re even more fun when you cook with friends. Since I’m still making friends in Los Angeles, I reached out to my blogger network to see who would be interested in “swapping” recipes from the book, starting with Lindsay of Rosemarried. We have since then grown to almost 30 accomplished bloggers who participate every month, creating their own recipes out of a vintage one I release every month. Today is our one year anniversary of the swap, so please check out all of our posts below and wish a Happy Birthday to us!

It wouldn’t be a “birthday” post without a look back across the last year.  Lindsay and my first posts were to remake a Persimmon Pudding. I was working out of a kitchen I had been in for two days, meaning I didn’t yet understand the oven’s hot spots or know where anything was. Worse, (for me) it was raining that day and the light to photograph was not ideal. It made me wonder if the thought was a good idea at all.

The Sand Hills of Nebraska.

This year, I’m writing this post from the passenger seat on a road trip. I flew back to New York from Los Angeles to pick up my loving compadre after a project, and we decided to make a lazy ten-day trip out of it, visiting friends and family along the way. For this post, my laptop is in its rightful spot, the Sand Hills of Nebraska whizzing by outside. I recreated this recipe in my aunt-in-law’s kitchen in a suburb of Chicago, and my mother-in-law had to race me to the store at 7:30am for a lemon so I could photograph the cake. She brought me maple syrup for the occasion that a friend of hers made this season. (I've never worked with homemade maple syrup before!) In a way, it feels as ramshackle as the first Recipe Swap post. The difference is, I’m now comfortable with the process of the monthly posts, and the journeys they take me on. Not all the photos are spectacular. Not all the recipes are perfect. But, they are, and we are sharing our discoveries and progress with each other.

Breakfast along the way, Detroit, Michigan.

Leaves at the Museum of Science and Industry, Chicago, Illinois.

Thank you all for reading and supporting the recipe swap. More importantly, thank you for giving us all reasons to keep writing, photographing and posting about food.

Late harvest, backyard, Detroit, Michigan.

This month, we’re remaking, what else, a cake, to celebrate!  The original recipe was Maple Syrup Cake. My take on it is a Maple-molasses spice cake with lemon whipped cream. Light and easy. 

Bar at the old library, Burwell, Nebraska, my favorite place in the world.

Please be sure to take the time to visit everyone’s posts below, and Happy Birthday to us!!

The original recipe for Maple Syrup Cake

Maple Molasses Spice Cake

Burwell General Store

Serves: 8

Equipment:

Stand Mixer

9"x 9" baking pan

Ingredients:

Dries, whisked together in bowl:

1 3/4 cups white flour

1/2 cup wheat flour

2 tsp baking soda

1 Tbsp baking powder

1 tsp fresh ground cinnamon

1 tsp ground ginger

1 tsp fresh ground nutmeg

2 tsp espresso powder or finely ground coffee

1/4 tsp salt

In stand mixer:

1/2 cup butter

1/2 cup sugar

2 eggs, room temperature

Wets, mixed together in bowl:

3/4 cup grade B maple syrup

1/4 cup molasses

Topping:

1/2 cup heavy whipping cream

grated lemon zest

Method:

Preheat oven to 375F.

In stand mixer fitted with whisk attachment, cream together butter and sugar until pale and fluffy.  Add eggs one at a time and slowly incorporate. Add 1/3 of the dries, then alternate with 1/3 of the wets, and slowly incorporate until everything is combined.  Pour into greased baking pan and bake for 20-25 minutes or until the middle when pressed will spring back. Remove from oven and let cool. Whip cream into stiff peaks, adding a touch of maple syrup. Top with lemon zest, and serve to loved ones.

Fall Frittata

Welcome to another recipe swap! Some amazing bloggers do this every month; we take a vintage recipe for inspiration and create our own versions of it. We are a big group this month, so be sure to check out all of our posts below. (For the history of the Recipe Swap and list of participants, click here.) The recipe: "Hot Slaw." What it became in my kitchen is a perfect story of my state of being right now; inventing, uncertain, and a little anxious.

--
One requirement of living in New York is having a weekend retreat upstate somewhere. (It's true. It's in the "welcome to New York City, Sucker" resident manual.) As a result, when I lived there, I spent a lot of time in upstate Connecticut in a small idyllic lakeside cabin, grasping at decompression from the weight of city life in 48-hour intervals. It was there I became fascinated with how lakes act as telltales to the change of seasons.

Watching it in the fall was like watching Mother Nature put a fussy baby down for a nap; the lake didn't go to sleep quietly. Winds kicked up the surface, bullied wildlife, and changed moods. The change of colors became a tantrum as nature threw the last of its dying leaves on the ground. We never knew which dive off the dock would be our season's last. The still waters ran spitefully deep, and sometimes without warning, overnight, they ran really fucking cold.

This and every fall, I feel a little anxious for what is to come, I suppose. The surprises are less shocking than on the east coast, but in Southern California, the clues to the change of season are revealed by what is on the tables at the farmer's market. The apples are early this year.

Regardless of our locations, (our recipe swap group has grown to a worldwide cadre of fantastic bloggers) fall is a time to slow down, look inward and prepare for winter. Some of us celebrate the new year with Rosh Hashanah, which brings with it a lot of work in preparation for a seasonal and spiritual renewal. The actions we ignored for a year come back to the surface and we are asked to not only process them, but take responsibility for them. For lakes, this time is known as the final chance to punk the person confidently cannonballing off the dock with a shock of cold water, or by wrapping some mud-slime thing around their swim trunks on the way back up. Actually, that's how reassessing my behaviors of the past year has felt this time around. For the rest of us, it is a time to cozy up, settle in, and eat well.

From the original vintage "Hot Slaw" recipe came a shallot, cabbage and apple frittata; a mild, easy dish to ease our ways into cool fall mornings, perfect for a light brunch with family and friends. Happy Fall, and Happy New Year!

Fall Frittata

Serves: 6

Ingredients:
8 large farm eggs
2 Tbsp heavy cream
1 tsp agave nectar (or 1/2 tsp honey)
1/4 cup shredded cabbage
3 large cloves shallot, sliced
1/2 cup grated tart apple (I used Pippins, but Galas or Granny Smiths would work great)
3 Tbsp crumbled goat cheese
2 Tbsp chopped dill
1/2 tart apple, sliced very thinly and held in water with a dash of lemon juice
1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese
salt and pepper to taste
olive oil for sauteing 

Method:
Preheat oven to 375F.
In a 9" heat-safe saute pan on medium heat, pour 2 tsp olive oil. Add shallots, cabbage and apple and saute until the cabbage turns bright green. In a separate bowl, add eggs, cream, agave nectar, a good pinch of salt and a few cracks of pepper and whisk thoroughly. Add contents to saute pan and top with goat cheese and dill. Place into oven for ten minutes. Remove from oven, tap the center to confirm the frittata is set (it should spring back), and turn the oven to broil. Place apple slices and cheddar cheese on top of the frittata and broil for two minutes or until bubbly and golden. Let cool for a couple minutes before slicing and serving with greens on the side and fresh bread and butter.

Camper's Couscous

Here we are again! Every month, I release an original recipe from a vintage cookbook, All Day Singin' And Dinner On The Ground, a junk store find, and we each update and remake it in our own creative ways. This time around, we embraced "Wild Rabbit With Vegetables". Our rotating crew is immensely talented and diverse, as you'll see in the links at the bottom of this page. Visit the swap page for bios of past and present swappers and please visit all of our blogs to let us all know what you think of our inventions!
  
This weekend, I hiked Mt. San Antonio, (Mt. Baldy to the skiers), about an hour east of the sprawl of Los Angeles. It is one of the four mountains in the area above 10,000 feet elevation, making it a great hill to practice how one handles the challenges of altitude sickness.

About halfway up one of the trails that lead to the summit, there's a wee ski hut, built in 1936 (for the second time, after a fire destroyed it.) Now maintained by members of the Sierra Club, if you plan in advance, you can reserve a bunk in the hut that sleeps about 12 for $20 a night. A fellow camper staying there told stories of his father who helped portage in 2x4s and steel sheets to build the roof. All morning and afternoon long on both days, hikers stopped in on their way to the summit, telling us their stories of stays at the hut, signing the register and grabbing water on the way out.

For a while now, I've swung back to the other side of the food blogging pendulum; previously focusing with precision on what is on the plate itself, how it tastes, how it is styled, how it represents itself to others. It has been a long time coming for me, but I'm slowly and steadily getting back in shape to prepare for a spectacular backpacking trip next year. Talking to all of the guys who overnighted in the ski hut on their way up to or down from Mt. Baldy brought this goal into perspective; everyone had thoughts, and everyone was encouraging my plan for a lengthy 50-mile back country trip that ends with the summit of Mt. Whitney next summer. With this increased training in my week comes an increased focus on food as a vehicle for accomplishing an energy-sustaining balance of fat, calories, carbohydrates, vitamins and amino acids. In some ways, this puts me at odds with the idea of food blogging as a luxurious flipbook of recipes for the developed palate, an idea which I think drives the whole of food blogging.

The more I'm out in the back country, the more food itself takes a back seat to the experiences and conversations had over eating it. The act of having my meals cooked on a wood-fired stove that someone hauled 3,000 feet up a mountain by hand, sitting at a rough-hewn table with wood that someone hauled the same distance for the act of doing exactly what we were doing was infinitely more important than the actual food on the table. We could have eaten a bag of chips at the table and we still would have had the experience of communing with strangers over a love of nature in an historic refuge in the forest.

My take on this swap's recipe is Camper's Couscous, and it was exactly what I hoped it would be; a solution to me buying pre-packaged cups of soup when I go out on these journeys. But it in no way was the focus of my interest this weekend. It seemed inappropriate to eat for one in a hut full of other hikers, even though we had pre-planned our contributions to family meals. When a fellow hiker asked me how the soup was, I merely said "It needs dried chives." It wasn't fun to eat a cup of soup by myself, then or ever. The breakfast made for ten, on the other hand, was a blast. We drank percolated coffee, black. Our hut host stoked the stove and we stood around laughing about torturing the morning's hikers with the smells of hot coffee, potatoes and bacon they couldn't have. Over this community breakfast, we had a time I am eager to bring back into my home, over my own table; communion with other loved ones using food as an expression of appreciation for one's presence. 

Sunrise at the San Antonio Ski Hut.

I am excited to have my own recipe for instant soup, and I'll definitely make it again for the trail, with some modifications to keep things interesting. I am thankful to have enough money to make food to my specifications and for having great health to be able to take that food to beautiful wilderness to enjoy it. But what I remember of the weekend is the spirit of the original recipe, Wild Rabbit With Vegetables, which was probably originally made in over-sized, banged up cookware like ours this morning, intended to feed a small army from a humble kitchen.

Camper's Couscous
Serves: One hungry camper

Ingredients:
1/3 cup small grain couscous
1 T organic powdered chicken broth (use a smashed cube of bouillon if you can't find powdered)
2 T dried corn (I used the "Just Corn" variety found at Whole Foods)
1 T dried, crumbled shitake mushroom
1 T sundried tomatoes, (about two slices, chopped)
1 tsp dried chives (or fresh, if you can't find them)
1/2 tsp salt
A few fine-grind cracks black pepper
1/2 tsp garlic salt

Method:
Place all ingredients in a plastic baggie, and hike somewhere where you have access to hot water. When settled in to camp, place contents in a medium bowl, and pour about two cups boiling water over soup, cover and let steep for five minutes. Uncover, stir, eat and enjoy your surroundings.

View atop Mt. San Antonio, looking southeast.

For others' recipes:

Raw Cashew and Apricot Cookies

Here we are again! Every month, I release an original recipe from a vintage cookbook, All Day Singin' And Dinner On The Ground, a junk store find, and we each update and remake it in our own creative ways. This time around, we embraced "Sorghum Molasses Cookies". Our rotating crew is immensely talented and diverse, as you'll see in the interpretations of this humble recipe by:  Dennis, Toni, Shumaila, Alex, Lora, Lindsay, Mari, Crissy and Lauren, Pola, Jamie, Claire, Shari, Joy, Monique, Linda, Priya, Rachel, Alli, Katy, Emily, Krissy, Jacqueline and Jaclyn. Visit the swap page for everyone's bios and please visit all of our blogs to let us all know what you think of our inventions!

I spent a week trying to come up with something that was a twist on a good ol' farmhouse cookie in the middle of a particularly aggressive personal training workout plan, with gym trips five to six days a week. Then, a funny thing happened last week: I lost my taste for wheat flour. As in, it tastes like dirt. This has happened before in periods of relative health, but it has never been sustained long enough to cause a departure for me and my previous flour-and-butter-and-wine-and-coffee-filled diet. The result: we, (my body and I) have developed a new, special relationship, filled with a series of demands, permissions and denials.  A typical conversation between my mind and body might be:

Body: So, uh, no more than a glass of wine a day now?
Mind: Yep.
Body: Okay that's cool. But don't you miss it?
Mind: Yep.
Body: Huh. Okay, the willpower domain is all you, Mind. Good luck with that.

Another example:

Body: Mind, if you try cutting off the caffeine supply again to me I will turn into Satan on wheels. I will wake you up in your sleep. I will make you feel like you have been stabbed in your nerve center. Do not test me on this again.
Mind: Holy #%$*, Body! Make the stabbing stop! Make it stop! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!

Every once in a while, the stomach chimes in like a nine year-old left unattended in a grocery store.

Stomach: I'd like an ice cream cone with cookie dough ice cream, and a Snickers bar and some beef jerky and some purple Gatorade for dinner please.
Mind and Body: (in a rare moment of agreement) Uh, no. We'll be having brown rice, steamed vegetables and organic baked tofu for dinner instead.  If you're good, you can have a cookie for dessert.

Enter the raw cashew and apricot cookie.

Back in my New York days, I went on a raw food detox and spent three weeks eating 100% raw. I cannot say enough about how amazing it made me feel. I also can't say enough of why people should not shock their body with a vastly different diet than the one they were previously on. However, I had the energy of me, one decade earlier. My skin cleared up. By the time my weight normalized, about a week into it, my cravings for cotton candy-wrapped ice-cream shakes with mint chocolate fudge on top disappeared, replaced by honest cravings for fruits or sprouted beans or nuts. I found a raw cookie something like this one at a health food store and bought them like they were gold or batteries, and stuffed them in every bag, using them as shields against the coffee shop pastries that I was assaulted with on every street corner.

Somehow, being offered a cookie always solves a problem. Eating one is a treat, no matter how healthy, and it represents a little break in the day. This one is a little springy, and its flavor is tart and nutty-sweet, and that combination hits the spot for me every time.

Raw Cashew and Apricot Cookie

Makes 8-10 cookies

Dessert From My Blanket Fort: Cookies and Cream

Welcome to another recipe swap!

Every month, I release an original recipe from a vintage cookbook, All Day Singin' And Dinner On The Ground, a junk store find, and we each update and remake it in our own creative ways. This time around, we embraced "Jelly Cake", an old-fashioned layer cake. Our crew is immensely talented and diverse, as you'll see in the interpretations of this humble recipe by:  Dennis, Toni, Sabrina, Lora, Lindsay, Mari, Crissy and Lauren, Pola, Jamie, Claire, Shari, Joy, Monique, Linda, Priya, Rachel, Alli, Katy, Lana, Emily, Krissy and Jaclyn. Visit the swap page for everyone's bios and please visit all of our blogs to let us all know what you think of our inventions!

--
It happens every summer and throughout the year when I'm feeling overwhelmed with work and life; the pull from the center of my chest towards my place in Burwell. The old library is my adult blanket fort, but with booze, room for ten, my cookbook collection and a new kitchen. The last time I was in residence (a summer ago), I went to the Chokecherry Jamboree in neighboring Sargent, Nebraska, a weekend-long celebration of its namesake, complete with vendors and a Little Miss Chokecherry pageant. Chokecherry bushes are abundant in the Sandhills of Nebraska, producing small, sour, juicy red berries. When I purchased this jelly at the festival, I also purchased two chokecherry bushes and planted them in my yard in Burwell. As soon as next summer I may be harvesting some of my own chokecherries and pairing them with peaches or apricots in pie. For now, 1,500 miles away from my sanctuary on the plains, I have jelly that one Linda Osborn lovingly put up for us to enjoy later. The resulting recipe is like most plains recipes and like the original Jelly Cake recipe; simple and understated, yet can be dressed up for company and served with coffee.

Chokecherry Jelly

Mixed Berries, Cookies and Chokecherry Whipped Cream
Serves: 4

Equipment:
Large short-walled rammekin, about 5" diameter
whisk
stainless steel bowl

Ingredients:
One package ladyfinger cookies
One pint fresh mixed berries
One pint heavy whipping cream
2 Tablespoons jelly or jam, your choice, stirred to break up

Optional:
maple syrup

Rinse and pat dry the berries. In a chilled stainless steel bowl, pour one pint of heavy whipping cream.  Add jelly, and whisk until the cream forms stiff peaks but is still glossy. Take ladyfinger cookies and line the walls of the rammekin with them, using a dollop of cream on the bottom of the rammekin to hold them in place. Once into position, carefully use a spatula or pipe cream in using a plastic bag with the end snipped off until cream reaches just more than 3/4 of the way up the ladyfingers. Smooth, top with berries, and chill the dessert for about an hour to set, reserving leftover berries and cookies to add to individual bowls of berries, cookies and cream.  If you like, drizzle with a little maple syrup and serve with fresh-brewed coffee.

Team Popover: A Recipe Swap Defeat

Coach's Lecture to Team Popover after the Recipe Swap Defeat:

Potato Popovers, Coach "MiniBar" Tequila.

Ladies, listen up. Every month for six months now, we do this. You knew this recipe swap was coming, and you knew I devoted an entire weekend to coach you to a win. Yet here we are. Not a single one of you made it to the Popover goal line. Where I come from, if you fall down, you get right back up and keep on going. How else are you going to get to the championships in someone's belly?

There are some great teams out there who do this Recipe Swap every month and make it to the finish line. This month, we used an old Potato Donuts recipe for inspiration with Dennis, Toni, Sabrina, Lora and Lindsay, and newer teams Mari, Mary, Jennifer, Crissy and Lauren, Pola, Jamie, Claire, Shari, Joy, Monique, Linda, Nicolle, Tricia and Priya. We've got some brand new teams launching this month, too, Rachel, Merry-Jennifer, Alli and Katy. This is the Pac-10 of recipe swapping, ladies, and I want you to think about that every night until you bring your A-game back to this kitchen, like these fine men and women do every time.

Before you go, we need to hash this mess out, armchair-quarterback style, so this doesn't happen again.

Amaretto-Spiked Caramel Apple Bites

It's time again for another recipe swap! Every month, I share a recipe from a vintage cookbook and turn it loose on a wonderful bunch of bloggers, who each reinterpret the recipe in their own way. Our assignment this month was to remake "Ozarkian Taffy Apples", which in its original form, was a very hard, crude caramel, a "Prairie Caramel" as fellow blogger Linda put it.

We are an ever-changing group which includes old hands Dennis, Toni, Sabrina, Lora and Lindsay, who will be posting on Tuesday since she was busy with Foodbuzz' 24x24 project (congrats!), to newer swappers Mary, Crissy and Lauren, Pola, Jamie, Claire, Shari, Joy, Monique and Jennifer, to brand new participants Linda, Tricia and Priya, another blogger from Australia to the mix. We are vegans, gluten-free types, vegetarians, utter carnivores and sweets freaks who share a common passion for being in the kitchen. Please take a moment to look at how everyone reinterpreted the same recipe and leave your thoughts for all of us on our pages! We love hearing from you.

It was bound to happen at one point along the recipe swap, or at any point in food blogging, meeting an uncooperative recipe. The Ozarkian Taffy Apples recipe was a series of trials for me, from the chocolate amaretto dipping sauce that didn't work out, to four tries to get the caramel right, to figuring out how to plate it without it looking like a catering photograph. All of these misses distilled down into Caramel Apple Bites, which, it turns out, were so delicious I ate about ten of them while I was assembling them for photography, making myself sick in the process.  I had to step away, go run some errands and come back to shoot the photographs. It's a back-handed endorsement, certainly, but they're so tasty, they'll make you sick to your stomach.

The lesson: Simplicity is King. These are soft, buttery caramels laced with Amaretto liqueur on top of tangy apples. That's it. And, they're pretty darned cute in a little group together, which was how I ended up eating a whole plate of them. Enjoy!

Amaretto-Spiked Caramel Apple Bites
Burwell General Store

Serves: 10 as appetizers, (50-60 pieces)

Easy One-Bowl Chocolate Mocha Cake with Fresh Berries and Ice Cream

Once a month, I take a vintage recipe from an old cookbook and share it with a fantastic and growing group of recipe swappers. We each take time to reinterpret it and post our results the first Sunday of every month.  The Recipe Swap group this time around includes old hands Dennis, Lindsay, Toni, and Mari, to new swappers Mary, Crissy and Lauren, Pola, Jamie, and Claire, to the wonderful bloggers in between, Shari, Joy, and Jennifer.  Our recipe soul sister Sabrina took a break this time, as she just completed a wildly successful bake sale for Japan; we look forward to seeing her next time! Please take a moment to look at everyone's recipes and leave your thoughts for all of us on our pages.

This month's recipe was "Busy Day Wacky Cake", a version of a Depression cake (thanks, Lindsay, for researching), created when recipe workarounds surfaced in absence of essential pantry ingredients like milk and baking powder.  I loved the efficiency of mixing and baking a cake in the same pan, so for my adaptation I hung on to that. Then, in a fitting nod to the soul of this recipe, I couldn't find my baking dish from my move between apartments last week, so out of necessity, this cake was baked in a 9" All-Clad skillet. At that point, I took the "simplicity" message and left the finished cake unglazed, garnishing only with raspberries and vanilla ice cream. This stripped-down dessert pushed individual ingredients like espresso powder and fresh raspberries into the spotlight; a combination that is bright and tangy yet earthy. Lesson learned; simpler is better.

Easy One-Bowl Chocolate Mocha Cake
Burwell General Store

Serves: 8

"Chicken Sink" Pot Pie with Light-Roux Gravy and Herbed Drop Biscuits

Here we are! Another recipe swap, and this time 13 of us joined the fun. This time, we reinterpreted "Grandma's Pot Pie and Drop Biscuits" from "All Day Singin' And Dinner on the Ground" (Read more about the swap here). We created a wide spectrum, from Lindsay's Pork and Apple Pot Pies with Rosemary Gruyere Biscuits, to Sabrina's Thai Green Curry with Spicy Brown Rice Balls, Boulder Locavore's gluten-free Chicken Nonya Curry, Chef Dennis' Chicken Crostata, Mari's Thai Coconut Chicken Stew with Sweet Potato Falafel to Nay's close interpretation with goat cheese biscuits. I am excited to welcome newcomers who jumped right in and are as creative and diverse as the rest of the bunch: Jennifer made a Buffalo stew, Shari our first international swapper is blogging from Australia, Cindy, writing in the City of Angels, Monique from Chicago, and The Cake Duchess who shares a rare savory dish with us from Florida. You simply must take 15 minutes and visit all their pages to read these inventive and delicious recipes that we blogged about from all over the world. Thank you all for contributing, it is always such fun to collaborate.

The spirit of the original recipe spoke to my hardy yet latent Midwestern resourcefulness, so like Nay, (in close interpretation, not in Midwestern roots) my own recipe fell closer to the original, incorporating ingredients I had laying around in the fridge, hence the "Chicken Sink" label. I used only what I had available, which is probably not going to be what you have available in your own kitchen. As far as the filling goes, add or remove anything you like from the list below as long as you have a heavy four to five cups of filling. My "twist" is the addition of a roux-gravy, which adds complexity both in flavor and technique to the dish. I love the flavor toasted flour brings to the table.


"Chicken Sink" Pot Pie with Light-Roux Gravy and Herbed Drop Biscuits

Serves: 4