Here are three of my favorite savory recipes to use all that zucchini your garden might be producing. (Or that you buy at Costco. No judgment.) Yes, Arizona friends: the first two recipes require that you turn on your oven, but they’re worth it.
- Summer vegetable galette from the New York Times. It’s kind of like ratatouille in a rich crust. I’ve made the crust using whole-wheat flour and rye flour. I prefer the latter.
2. Monument Cafe’s whole-wheat zucchini bread, from foodnetwork.com. Because sweet, heavy zucchini quick bread gets tiring. I’ve even added cheese to the Monument Cafe’s savory yeasted version.
3. Zucchini butter, from food52.com. So versatile. Use it in an omelette. Smear it on a bagel or toast. Dollop on a baked potato. Spread a layer over the goat cheese in the summer vegetable galette.
I’m a bit obsessed with Uri Scheft’s Breaking Breads. (See all those scraps of paper I’m using as bookmarks?)
In the past two weeks, I have made several batches of his berry and ricotta brioche buns. As I write this, a slab of advanced babka dough is having its final 24-hour beauty sleep in the fridge, and may be turned into a chocolate delight.
But I want to rave about something savory: his challah falafel rolls.
He writes about how his wife came up with the idea of marrying challah dough with “all of the spices and magic of falafel.” And it does.
Although his recipe calls falafel a “filling,” it’s not. The chickpeas, caramelized onions and spices are mixed right into the dough. It makes for a substantial roll, to eat plain or with a soup or stew, or to use as a sandwich bread.
I shaped my first batch as the recipe (check here for it) directed into torpedo shapes but I took creative license with the second and third batches. I shaped batch two into balls filled with feta. I shaped batch three more like buns, so they would be easier to use for sandwich bread.
After mixing, the dough is slightly sticky and a bit hard to manipulate. But after bulk fermentation, it’s delightful.
As with any recipe calling for garbanzo beans, you can use canned beans. I made batch one with canned chickpeas, but I made batches two and three with home-cooked chickpeas.
A local restaurant has on its menu the absolute best cauliflower dish. (For those of you in Fox Restaurant Concepts
‘ ambit, I’m talking about Flower Child.) I can make a lunch out of two side orders.
You’ll need turmeric, which is not as ubiquitous in home-kitchen spice cabinets as it should be. Not familiar with turmeric? It’s having a moment, what with claims that turmeric tea will fix darn near all that ails you. But it’s been around for a long time. Here’s a description:
Turmeric is a plant that has a very long history of medicinal use, dating back nearly 4000 years. In Southeast Asia, turmeric is used not only as a principal spice but also as a component in religious ceremonies. Because of its brilliant yellow color, turmeric is also known as “Indian saffron.”
Get yourself some turmeric and try this knock-off version of Flower Child’s cauliflower. If you’re a foodie/cook/chef, you’ll recognize this as just a pretty basic Indian-spiced cauliflower recipe, but it tastes like Flower Child’s version. (But hey, #FlowerChild
, if you’re inclined to share your actual recipe, let me know!)
The key with this recipe is that you want lots o’ spice on the cauliflower. Forget “delicately spiced.” Ain’t no delicate here.
I used a bag of cauliflower florets from Costco. It’s about 3 pounds, which, after you eat this for dinner with one or two other people, might — might — leave you leftovers for lunch.
1. Preheat oven to 450F.
2. Mix together in a bowl big enough to fit all that cauliflower:
6 tablespoons olive oil
1 TB turmeric powder
1 TB coriander seeds
1 TB cumin seeds
1 TB curry powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp black pepper
3. Add the cauliflower and mix/toss — with utensils — until the lovely turmeric yellow covers it all. (Turmeric stains, so watch out for your fingernails.)
4. Eat a floret as an appetizer (there, you’ve participated in the raw-food movement) and taste test to see if you need to add more salt.
5. Scrape it all out onto a half-sheet pan. If you don’t have a half-sheet pan, at least put it onto a pan big enough so the cauliflower is more or less in one layer. You want a bit of air space between the florets. You’re not making a casserole.
6. Roast for at least 20 minutes, stirring once or twice, until the cauliflower has crispy edges and is a deep golden color.
A three-day weekend meant I had time to work through my backlog….of sourdough.
Here’s the thing with sourdough. You feed your little pet but you don’t feed all of it because if you do, you end up with more than you know what to do with. You feed only a portion of your starter and either throw the rest away or use it. (King Arthur Flour has blog posts devoted to how to use up your excess starter.)
Several weeks ago I fed the whole thing. And then did the same the following week. Think of it like a nest full of baby birds, all chirping “feed me!”
Fast forward to this weekend, when I had about 32 ounces of beautiful sourdough starter, filling multiple containers. Yeah, I know it’s just flour and water, but the idea of feeding only 4 ounces and throwing away the other 28 ounces of beautiful bubbling starter was just wrong.
In addition, in the back of my head I could hear the chef who teaches my current baking class, lecturing us about how we should never throw anything away, because it can always be repurposed. For example, accidentally use way too much salt in a dough? Make some kind of dough decoration. Mess up the cookies so they don’t look attractive? Grind them into crumbs and use them to decorate a cake. (I had some in the freezer and did just that this weekend.)
So with all of that lovely starter, I made several loaves and lots of rolls, using one of my favorite King Arthur Flour sourdough bread recipes, which includes whole-wheat flour as well as seeds and flaked whole grains. (For each roll, I used about 55 grams/2 ounces of dough.) In many sourdough recipes, you can use fed or unfed starter.
We now have lots of great-tasting bread in the house, and I am back down to reasonable sourdough proportions. I know you were worried about me.
Dried-fruit producers clearly are trying to rehab the poor prune’s image, from being associated with — as a recent New York Times article wrote — “constipated octogenarians praying on spoonfuls of paste.” The Times‘ article explained that in the early 2000s, the California Prune Board
officially changed its name to the California Dried Plum Board, hoping to avoid the association entirely. “We thought maybe the stigma was too much of a challenge for us to overcome,” Donn Zea, the board’s director, [said]. And “dried plum” was an accurate description: “It’s a plum. It grows on a tree. We dry them.”
Read the article here. And then bake the Frangipane-Prune Tart.
Here’s my tart. I used the crust from another Times’ frangipane tart recipe.
Forget any stigma. It’s a plum. It grows on a tree. It’s dried. And gee is it great, steeped in earl grey tea, in this terrific tart. I might have leftovers for breakfast tomorrow.
Every time I open Dorie Greenspan’s new book, Dorie’s Cookies, I find something….too many somethings…I want to bake. But today picking a recipe was easy.
Often what I cook or bake depends on what we have in the fridge and what needs to be used up. For example, the crumbs from various boxes of cereal went into sourdough bread this weekend, substituting for the seeds and flaked grains the recipe called for. (Yeah, that bread did indeed come out a little dense.) We also had some ricotta that needed to be used, so when Spouse said he wanted to make pancakes for breakfast, I suggested that he use Mark Bittman’s lemon-ricotta pancakes, instead of his go-to, which is another Bittman recipe.
But even after those pancakes, we still had ricotta left over. Luckily, Dorie Greenspan has a cookie for that: mocha-ricotta puffs.
Mine turned out a bit darker than the recipe in her book, probably because I used a tad bit more instant espresso than the recipe called for.
They’re terrific little cookies. Ricotta and yogurt make them tender yet substantial. They still have crisp edges.
They would make excellent sandwich cookies, with either a ganache or vanilla filling.
Speaking of how my cookies look compared to the photo accompanying a recipe: In my last post about Moroccan semolina and almond cookies, I noted that my cookies did not look like those in the photo that accompanied the New York Times’ recipe. They do, however, look like the cookies in the photo that accompanies the source recipe: Greenspan’s cookie book! You can see the photo that Greenspan uses in her book here.
I’m a big fan of almonds. Whole, slivered, pulverized into almond butter, milled into flour. I’m always on the lookout for recipes – preferably cookies or other baked goods — that use almonds.
My recent favorite cookie: a semolina-and-almond cookie from the NY Times’ food website adapted from other sources. Mine don’t look like the NY Times’ photo, and I can’t figure out why, despite multiple batches. I’ve adjusted the amount of pressure I used to make the indentation; the amount of powdered sugar they are dredged in; and I weigh my ingredients.
Even though they look a bit ragged, they’re excellent.
The recipe calls for orange-blossom water. The cookies are good just with vanilla, but they’re even better with the orange-blossom water.
Get the recipe here: