a lovely summer salad

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Punnets of deep blue awaited me at Trevor’s. No, not blueberries, but Saskatoon berries.

Little, midnight blue and bursting with flavour, Saskatoon berries are a fleeting summertime treat. A fleeting summertime treat made even moreso as I’m not in Saskatchewan.

My Most Marvelous Manager told me about them ages ago–they sounded wonderful, but I thought I’d never see them here.

Never say never.

I was so happy to find them at Herrle’s last year. A couple of punnets came home with me and I spent a week making muffins, tarts and sauces followed. I could see why MMM remembered them fondly.

This year’s punnet would still be used for baking, but I wanted to play with the savoury side of these berries. With summer’s heat upon us, a salad seemed to be the way to go.

I don’t know if people usually complement these berries with arugula and goat cheese, but they were the first things to come to mind. Add some thinly sliced red onion (or shallots) and toasted almonds, and it all worked so very nicely–bitter pepperyness from the greens against the sweet berries, tangy cheese, sharp onions, crunchy nuts and the sweet and sour vinaigrette easily came together for a lovely summer salad.

Like many salads I make, this is a non-recipe recipe. Add as much or as little of each ingredient as you like. Serve on its own or with grilled chicken or a some poached or seared white fleshed fish.

I loved from my mother’s collection

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I’ve made a lot of fondue in my life. That’s probably because I did a lot of peeking in on my parent’s 1970s dinner parties. Fondue was rather exotic to me then. I guess the grown ups liked it too, because my mom got several fondue sets during this time.

There was the little metal pot with a wire handle. It was for meat fondue. However, it was nearly impossible to get the oil hot enough to properly cook the meat, so I rarely had anything to do with that pot. Besides, on those rare evenings when the oil did get hot enough– the wire handle was certain to burn the little fingers of prepubescent diners like me. So, eventually my mom gave up on meat fondue.

She also had a specialized, fanciful pot. It was quite small and shaped like a little Swiss chalet. It was for chocolate fondue. Which should have made every kid in the room smile. However, I was rarely allowed to dip my stick in the chocolate fondue pot. My mom had a heavy hand with Amaretto, so the chocolate fondue was for adults only.

Which is how I developed a fondness for cheese fondue. I liked the sturdy, short-sided orange-and-brown ceramic pot my mom used in her cheese fondue. It’s permanent presence on our sideboard was a day-to-day reminder that my mom might throw a cheese fondue party at any moment.
Jarlsberg Cheese Fondue

I’m all grown up now, but I still like to throw a cheese fondue party every now and again. However, my cheese fondue parties have changed a bit with the times. I tend to prefer smaller bites, I like more fruit than bread for dipping, and I usually serve cheese fondue as an appetizer laid out in the living room before a sit down dinner in the dining room. So sadly, I have no need for the giant ceramic cheese fondue pot like the one I loved from my mother’s collection. Oh well, time marches on!

I also prefer Jarlsberg cheese for my cheese fondue. This is a sponsored post. I don’t do a lot of sponsored posts, but when it comes to cheese fondue I simply prefer to use Jarlsberg– and I don’t mind saying so. Jarlsberg cheese is the reason I call my version of cheese fondue a recipe that works.

Jarlsberg melts easily. It remains smooth and creamy. It almost never separates into an oily mess, and I don’t notice that grainy quality that cheese fondue sometimes takes on.

However, the main reason I wholeheartedly support Jarlsberg as my cheese of choice for fondue is the flavor. It’s more mild than Swiss Emmental and has a nuttiness I like. I particularly like Jarlsberg Cheese Fondue with sliced pears and almost always serve them together. GREG

eat the same thing twice

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So when you wake up on a Saturday morning, still half asleep, but your tummy is telling you it’s time for breakfast. What do you make when all you have left are odds and ends, left over vegetables from the week? Maybe a few eggs? Maybe just egg whites because you’ve been making ice cream all week?? Well my friends, the Frittata comes to the rescue!

wildwildwhisk.comFrittata is one of those dishes I’ve been making for a long time without knowing it actually has a name. You know, just whip up a few eggs and toss in some onion, and whatever veggies I have left, maybe some leftover Costco chicken or sandwich meat and who knows what else… It’s a quick and easy, no fuss breakfast for those sleepy mornings, exactly my kind of cooking. And the possibilities are endless! You don’t ever have to eat the same thing twice.

There is something I should tell you though, I can be very precise when it comes to baking. But cooking… cooking is another animal completely. The reason I haven’t really shared much besides baking is because I’m very, mm… what’s the word (?) undisciplined (?) imprecise (?) when it comes to cooking. I tend to not ever measure my ingredients… I just toss them in, cook, taste, toss some other stuff in, cook, taste, done. Half of the time, I don’t even follow any kind of recipe, and when I do have a recipe, I still don’t follow it… But I’m trying to be better about it so I can share the things I love and eat everyday with you guys (not just dessert!). And it starts here! So for this Frittata, I took note of what I used, measured with my kitchen scale even. You’re welcome!

So I hope you enjoy this little quick and easy breakfast recipe, and happy Saturday!

I wanted to try it differently

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Oh! I love tiramisu. The deep coffee flavored dessert with the lusciousness of mascarpone is something I would never say no to. And what if you get that a tiramisu ice cream? It just can’t get any better. A quintessential Italian dessert being turned into an ice cream to cool you off from the intense heat. Although, the weather has got slightly cooler this week due to official arrival of monsoon, you still can enjoy the ice cream.

I made this ice cream a couple of days back. Actually I had half a carton of cream in my fridge, which I wanted to utilize. And then mascarpone occurred to my mind. I hadn’t had tiramisu in long time and I was craving for it. I made this last year probably. I have made tiramisu verrines and the the classic style tiramisu from the authentic savoiardi cookies, which my friend brought for me. And this time I wanted to try it differently, in a frozen dessert ips 整容.

I thought of an ice cream cake too, but didn’t have courage to turn on the oven in the intense hot summer. Thank God! the weather has cooled down a bit, so I would be back to baking spree now. This is a recipe which I adapted from The Perfect Scoop. It’s one gem of a book from David Lebovitz on frozen treats. I keep on hoping between The Perfect Scoop and Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams. But I can’t say for sure, which one is my favorite. As of yet, I love both ips 整容!

The original recipe didn’t call for eggs, but had asked for a lot of liqueur, which I didn’t want truly speaking. So I though of giving it my own twist by making it custard based, so that it gets more luscious and creamy. And I am glad that it I did that. It came out super smooth and velvety with those deep flavor of coffee which I had been craving for. We also made affogato and served them in pretty martini glasses. Tiramissini, we called them! Isn’t that chic? We all loved it a lot ips 整容!

this come out of the oven

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I wanted to pluck each and every one of the bananas off the cake. I used restraint while I served the cake at a party, but it wasn’t easy.

I had never had a banana upside-down cake but figured why not. The cake is a spinoff on the The Best Pineapple Upside-Down Cake, which is one of my all-time favorites. It’s like having bananas foster, one of my favorite desserts, baked onto the cake.

The cake base is adapted from my favorite buttermilk coffee cake that I’ve used for Blueberry Muffin and Buttermilk Pancakes Cake, Cranberry White Chocolate Chip Bliss Cake, Peaches and Cream Fluffy Muffin Cake, Cream Cheese-Swirled Cherry and Mixed Berries Cake, and more.

I love this easy, no-mixer base because cakes always turn out supremely moist, springy, and fluffy thanks to buttermilk, sour cream, and oil. That trifecta of moisturizing and tenderizing ingredients makes it impossible to have a dry cake.

While baking, the bananas caramelize in a butter and brown sugar bath giving the cake it’s signature glistening top. There’s so much rich browed butter and alluring caramel flavor which makes the cake irresistible.

Interestingly, there are no bananas in the cake base itself, just on top, adding a perfect amount of banana flavor that goes so well with the caramel.

The buttery caramel sauce seeps down into the cake after inverting, which adds even more moisture to an already very tender and supremely soft cake.

Take the cake to the next level by drizzling salted caramel sauce over the top. May as well go all out.

I find that banana bread gets better on the second day after the flavors marry and this cake was no exception.

If you have a few ripe bananas to use no one will complain when they see this come out of the oven.

involved but it’s not hard

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Spring rolls (or often called egg rolls and used interchangeably) is a dish found in East Asian and Southeast Asian cuisine. Savory filling wrapped in flour-based pastry sheet and deep fried till the outer shell is crispy and golden brown. We call this dish “Harumaki (春巻き)” in Japan, direct translation of “spring rolls” in Japanese. Harumaki were originally introduced to Japan by the Chinese and adapted for Japanese tastes company setup.

Typical ingredients for harumaki (Japanese spring rolls) include some type of meat (pork, shrimp, etc), carrot, shiitake mushrooms, bamboo shoot, etc. Each family makes them slightly different, and today I’ll show how I make my tasty harumaki. I learned my recipe from my mom using 10 ingredients for the filling.

Her signature harumaki includes three types of protein – shrimp, ground pork, and chicken tender. However, ingredients for spring rolls are really up to your preference. You don’t have to include all 1o ingredients that I used. You can pick a couple of your favorites or experiment with fresh seasonal ingredients.

The only difference between my mom’s and my harumaki is that my mom’s harumaki is wider, one and half times wider than mine. Growing up, I had trouble picking up harumaki with chopsticks to eat them so I made my harumaki size similar to typical Chinese spring rolls size aisa top business schools.

Depends on the filling, you may want to change the dipping sauce, but typical Japanese harumaki is served with the combination of soy sauce and rice vinegar and you can also add Japanese karashi mustard.

Today’s recipe has many steps, so hopefully my recipe video below will help you guide through how to make this delicious dish. There are many steps and ingredients involved but it’s not hard Managed Private Network.

just mini souffles

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Now I understand the term “food porn." Lately I’ve been flipping through the Flickr photo sets for desserts and pastry while watching tv: BAD idea. Thousands upon thousands of gorgeous food pics, but very very few recipes to accompany them. The agony! Many don’t even have titles, so I don’t know what sinful concoction is before me. The few who do post recipes however, normally link the picture to their blogs, which are chock full of brand-spankin’ new recipes for me to try. I’ve added a few of the best to my favorites 成立公司.

Anyway, from my porn surfing, I found these two tarts: the Bakewell Tart (pictured above) and the Linzer Tart. The Linzer I didn’t get a picture of before it was whisked off to the hungry boyos; just assume mine looked as good as the one in the recipe. The Bakewell is a shortbread crust, with strawberry jam smeared on it, then covered with an almond cake. It overflowed while baking so I got to taste the leavings: the almond cake absolutely melts in your mouth. The Linzer Tart is an almond shortbread crust, with a raspberry jam layer, then chocolate ganache poured on top. I didn’t get to taste but the bowl for this one, but I did make one adjustment to the recipe: I added ~1 tablespoon of cinnamon to the ganache, to spice it up a little bitporcelain espresso cups.

The last recipe I’ll post today is my birthday cake. Mine didn’t photograph well at all; in fact it collapsed mid-picture under the weight of the mint sauce. It was a definite chocolate bomb though. I made one addition to the recipe: mid-bake time, I stuck a chocolate ganache truffle in the center of each. The idea was, melted chocolate truffle center! However, I stuck it too far down then over-cooked the cakes: the truffle was melted at the bottom, causing it to collapse faster once I took it out of the pan, and there was no molten center. They were still excellent though; just mini soufflesGolden visa.

rack to cool completely

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In the bowl of your electric mixer (or with a hand mixer), with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy. Add the egg and molasses and beat until well combined. Gradually add the flour mixture beating until incorporated.

Divide the dough in half, and wrap each half in plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least two hours or overnight Maggie Beauty.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (177 degrees C) and place rack in center of oven. Line 2 baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside while you roll out the dough.

On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to a thickness of about 1/4 inch. Use a gingerbread cutter to cut out the cookies. With an offset spatula lift the cut out cookies onto the baking sheet, placing the cookies about 1 inch (2.54 cm) apart. If you are hanging the cookies or using as gift tags, make a hole at the top of the cookies with a straw or end of a wooden skewer.

Bake for about 8 – 12 minutes depending on the size of the cookies. Small ones will take about 8 minutes, larger cookies will take about 12 minutes. They are done when they are firm and the edges are just beginning to brown.

Remove the cookies from the oven and cool on the baking sheet for about 1 minutes. When they are firm enough to move, transfer to a wire rack to cool completely comparable to silk.

If desired, you can press raisins, currants, or candies into the dough for eyes and buttons while the cookies are still warm. Otherwise, confectioners frosting can be used to decorate the cookies. You can also use the icing as a glue to attach candies, raisins, and sprinkles.

Confectioners Frosting: In an electric mixer (or with a hand mixer), cream the butter until smooth and well blended. Add the vanilla extract. With the mixer on low speed, gradually beat in the sugar. Scrape down the sides of the bowl and beater. Add the milk and beat on high speed until frosting is light and fluffy (about 3-4 minutes). Add a little more milk if too dry. Place the frosting in a pastry bag fitted with a decorative tip and decorate the gingerbread men as desired sculptra.

When I say side dish

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Maybe it is a product of our time, a generational thing, or just a matter of pheromones, but I keep falling in love with vegetarians. I spent nine years in their camp, so perhaps I’m predisposed. I may dally with a meat-and-potatoes man, but fate has it that my love is meant for herbivores only. One might argue that my sample size of two is too small for statistical significance, but it’s all I intend to have, and that’s significant enough for me. The first man to win my cooing and swooning was a devout vegan with the bumper stickers to show for it, and together we lasted for three meatless—if occasionally buttery, and blissful—years. The second has, in the twenty-four years since his birth, not once eaten meat, but his palate has ventured farther than most ardent omnivores. I refer, of course, to my wonderfully food-obsessed New Yorker. If push came to shove, I’d take him over a plate of sausage any day, and as you know, dear reader, that is saying a lot cheap designer sunglasses.

But no amount of love can change a cold, hard fact: the holidays are a lonely time to be a vegetarian. With a turkey here and a roost goose there, here a tenderloin, there a spiral-sliced ham, everywhere a canapé involving caviar or crustaceans, December can be a cold, mean month. There is Tofurky for the brave, but faced with such odds, the braver will abstain. There are mashed potatoes, breads, biscuits, and yams this way or that, but no matter how many starches on the plate, they do not a meal make. All too often, a table set around meat—as most holiday tables are—looks a little off-kilter when its fleshly centerpiece is removed. A well-stocked plate has an intrinsic balance, an organization that depends on a variety of flavors and textures, a nebulous something that lands softly but satisfyingly on the tongue. So while I am solidly a meat-eating girl, the love of a good vegetarian has taught me a keen respect for the art of so-called side dishes, the sides that make a main meat irrelevant. When I say side dish, I mean creamy, garlicky, herb-flecked white beans Teeth whitening.

Though humble to the eye, this silky, lusty purée sings in the mouth. Unabashedly aromatic with garlic, olive oil, rosemary, and sage, it perfumes the entire kitchen with a warm and welcome mid-winter rush of fresh herbs. These beans have appeared at my family’s Christmas parties and its bat mitzvahs—a testament, one could say, to our interfaith gourmandism, but more accurately, to this purée’s universal appeal. On the plate, it plays well with pork, beef, or poultry but is sturdy enough to take center stage among herbivores, carnivores, and those in between. It’s good enough for the love of a good vegetarian, and as you know, dear reader, that is saying a lot Office Interior Design.

a very Big Apple

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When I was a little girl, Christmas was a spiny, sparkly tree floating on a sea of shiny, sparkly boxes. I’d wait 364 long days for a few hours of stockings and presents, a morning so exhilarating and so exhausting that I’d spend the afternoon comatose on the green shag carpet of our living room, my arms locked around the day’s best loot. But like most things, from monkeys to morals, Christmas evolves. In my case, it evolved from the living room to the kitchen, from the twinkly tree to the blue-flamed stove, and from tissue-wrapped stuffed bears to foil-tented roasted turkeys. If nothing else, that’s got to be proof of some sort of intelligent design—or at the very least, of good breeding.

In my family, Christmas takes place in the kitchen. You’ve heard the old saying: give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile. Well, give us Christmas, and we’ll turn it into 48 hours in the kitchen, a 25-pound turkey, five quarts of asparagus soup, four dozen scones, three gallons of egg nog, two dozen biscuits, two fillets of beef Wellington, a case of Veuve Clicquot, and a bushel of spinach, creamed Bordeaux.

This year we descended fifteen-strong upon the home of my brother David and his wife Carée, and though the house was plenty roomy, we made quite a crowd in the kitchen. In the weeks beforehand, David set the ground rules—Christmas Eve would be beef, and Christmas Day turkey—and we set out planning menus, making lists, and calling dibs. David and Carée would take care of the beef, the turkey, the oysters, wine, champagne, egg nog, cheeses, creamed spinach, sautéed mushrooms, and snacks, should we need them. My sister Lisa would make a cream of asparagus soup, cranberry sauce, two flans, stuffing, a chocolate-pecan tart, and of course, her Scottish scones. My mother would make her favorite bread pudding: layers of buttered bread sandwiching mincemeat and marmalade, doused with cream and eggs, baked until puffy as a quilted pillow, and slathered with hard sauce. My niece Hillary would make silky salt-roasted fennel with olives and herbs, a grapefruit-pomegranate tart, a salad with arugula and pears, and for breakfast, lemon-ricotta pancakes and truffled egg toasts. I offered biscuits, butternut squash purée with maple syrup, and leeks with cream and tarragon, baked to limber and lush. And for his part, my nephew Brian would wander the house with his new kid-friendly cookbook, pointing at the pictures of paella and folding down pages Flower delivery service.

Needless to say, we had food enough for twelve days of Christmas, but being of strong constitution and eager appetite, we made quick work of it in two. We shared oven mitts and clinked glasses; we spilled, toasted, and went teary-eyed; and come bedtime, we each slept as though we’d eaten for three—which we had, for better or for worse.

And 360-some days from now, we’ll do it all over again. In the meantime, I plan on a 2006 full of excuses for champagne and a full kitchen, menus and lists and, first of all, those leeks. In fact, I’d be baking up a batch for New Year’s Eve, had I not already called dibs on a different sort of dish, one involving a party dress—black! strapless! with feathers!—and Balthazar, Brandon, and a very Big Apple property hk.