Churning out that Apple Butter

I'm thinking I might do a string of posts about apples. Because I still have that bushel of apples from my friends' yard and I'm running out of things to do with it! 

But I do have to hand it to myself for finding new ways to use them up. Life gave me apples and so I made... apple butter.

The plum butter was good and all, but this apple butter tops it. By a lot. I slow cooked the apples in cinnamon and spices for 24 hours and the next thing I know I'm spreading liquid apple pie on my toast. Cracker Barrel ain't got nothin' on me!

I adapted this recipe from Brown Eyed Baker. Enjoy!

INGREDIENTS:

6½ pounds apples, peeled, cored and sliced (I used as much as would fill up 3/4 of the crockpot)
1 1/2 cups sugar
1/2 cup honey
1 cinnamon stick
A dash of nutmeg, salt and allspice
A splash of vanilla extract

DIRECTIONS:

1. Place apples in slow cooker. Mix in sugar, honey and spices. Cook on low for 23 hours.

2. Stir in vanilla extract, breaking up any large chunks of apples that remain. Uncover and cook for an another hour to thicken.

3. Use an immersion blender to puree the apple butter until completely smooth. 

4. After sterilizing Mason jars in boiling water, spoon mixture to the top of each jar. Boil jars with apple butter inside for 10 minutes. Make cute labels because you feel like it. Give them out to your friends to buy their love and affection.

Pumpkin Chocolate Eclair

When I was a kid, I remember my parents having two go-to recipes for bringing dessert to a friend's house: Lemon Delight and Chocolate Eclair. Both were no bake, no fuss, easy to assemble. Mom and Dad usually preferred the lemon stuff because they made it in that glass trifle dish that added to its 70s appeal, but I would usually beg for the eclair, and they would usually give in. Also I loved it so much they would make two of them so I wouldn't be tempted to eat it all at the guest's house. You know, manners and all that.

Anyway, fast forward to an invitation to a dumpling party a few weeks ago and I was like: a-ha! I know what I can bring. Chocolate eclair! So I hunted down my Dad for the recipe and, at 31, I finally made it myself to bring to a friend's house. Only I forgot to make a second one to stash at home and dang! No leftovers. I was hungry for more.

Fast forward another weekend or two and I'm invited to a Harvest Party by my friend with the chickens and the apples and all that (of course). I was skeptical that they would put us to work harvesting their crops. But in reality the harvest party involved lots of chili and spiced cider and a fire and a couple pinatas. 

Aaanyway, to add to the October feel of this whole party, I decided I wanted to amp up the chocolate eclair and make it... with pumpkin. Because surely no one in the history of October has ever done such a thing. (A quick Google search proved me wrong, but you know what? No one out there has THIS recipe).

And so it is with pumpkin-spiced relish that I will share this recipe, one that is 95% my childhood and 5% my own heartfelt contribution of autumn (Read: pumpkin pie in a can)*.

Pumpkin Chocolate Eclair

Ingredients
1 package graham crackers
2 small packages instant vanilla pudding
1 8oz package of Cool Whip
15 ounces pumpkin pie mix


Frosting
2 oz unsweetened chocolate
2 teaspoons agave nectar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
3 tablespoons butter
1 1/2 cup confectioner's sugar
3 tablespoons milk

Directions
Make pudding according to package directions, but leave out 1/2 cup milk. Fold in Cool Whip and pumpkin pie mix.

Line a 9x13 pan with graham crackers. Pour half the mix on top. Add another layer of graham crackers, the rest of the pudding, and the top with a final layer of graham crackers.

To make the frosting, prepare a double boiler by placing a mixing bowl over a pot with a small amount of boiling water. Melt the butter and chocolate. Then add the rest of the ingredients and beat until smooth. Spread on top.

Refrigerate at least 24 hours to let all the flavors marry and the graham cracker to get nice and mushy. I'm not kidding! 24 hours at least.

Cut into squares and serve.

Don't forget to make a second one to hoard at your house and delve into when no one is looking.



*I also replaced white karo syrup with agave nectar because, what the heck is karo. Also the original recipe uses a microwave for the chocolate but I'm a sucker for the double boiler method.

Spaghetti Squash: Proof that Mother Nature was an Italian

It's mid-October now and I can't get my hands on enough squash. Butternut! Acorn! Baked, soups, sautee! 

Yesterday, I had a spaghetti squash laying around from last weekend's trip to Trader Joe's in Spokane (a somewhat rare and much joyous occasion). With an hour to go between me getting out of work and Rob needing a ride home from school, it seemed a perfect thing to prep while being kind of lazy about dinner, too. I needed something to cook while I FaceTimed with a friend. Then I could broil the last bits up after I was done making goofy faces in the little corner of her phone, because spreading joy is demanding like that.

Anyway, this Lasagna Stuffed Spaghetti Squash recipe was perfect for timing, but I was a little skeptical about blending marinara and cheese in a squash. Even if it is a spaghetti squash.

This recipe has changed my whole understanding of the versatility of a gourd. The added sweetness of the squash worked so well with the Italian flavors I had to wonder why I hadn't substituted every pasta dish I've ever had with this stuff. Plus, we got the extra veggie serving without the added carbs! Because let's be honest, a little side dish of green veggies isn't getting touched willingly when I eat hearty like this.

I adapted the recipe a little to fit what I had on hand, to limit the amount of cooking utensils I might have to dirty, and to shorten the amount of time I had to spend at the stove. Honestly though, I don't think you can mess this thing up. A spaghetti squash, like yours truly, is as buoyant as its Sicilian ancestors*. 

Meaty Stuffed Spaghetti Squash

• 1 medium spaghetti squash
• olive oil
• salt and pepper
• 1/4 lb ground sausage
• 1 small can tomato sauce
• Oregano, basil, parsley
• 1/2 cup part skim ricotta cheese
• 1/2 cup shredded part skim mozzarella cheese
• 
  

1. Preheat oven to 400. Slice spaghetti squash length wise and scrape out the seeds. Rub 1/4 tbsp olive oil into each squash half and season with salt and pepper. Place spaghetti squash half face down in a large baking dish and bake for 1 hour.
2. In a large pan, sautee sausage until cooked. Add sauce and season with herbs. Simmer until thickened.
3. When spaghetti squash is fully cooked, flip in the baking dish so that it is now skin side down. Spread ricotta in the indentation, and fill the rest with meat sauce. Top each half with mozzarella cheese.
4. Turn oven to broil, and cook for an other 2 minutes, until cheese is browned and bubbling. 

*Yes, I realize spaghetti squash does not actually share my heritage.

Crockpot Cinnamon-Vanilla Plum Butter

I'm not used to being in surplus of a lot of things. Certainly not produce. I used to overpay for about five or six pieces of fruit at a time at the corner stand. But now here I am visiting a friend after work and coming home with bushels of apples and crates of grapes and a bucket of plums. 

I've been taking my time eating everything. Making a dip for the apples with melted chocolate chips and granola crumbles, juicing the grapes with a steam pasteurizer,  whipping up apple cake and berry cobblers. But those plums get mushy and start attracting those tiny fruit flies fast, so I needed something that used all 5+ pounds at once. I needed to make a plum butter.

But I didn't want to mess with it! The canning part would be time-consuming enough. The rest had to be easy.

I researched a few recipes before I combined the best of them and freestyled in the crockpot. Here's what I came up with.

I filled the crockpot up with the best looking plums and tossed the mushy ones. The bees got into some of those. Or so I was told.

The plums were washed and pitted. I mixed in about 2.5 cups of sugar, set the crock pot on low, and let it cook for about 24 hours.

The juice starts to fill up the pot after the first hour or so. The goal is to thicken that stuff up. Keep checking on it and stirring it when you get a chance. For the last 8 hours or so, I left the lid open a little bit to let evaporation help out.

For the last hour, I bumped the heat up to high and took the lid off entirely. That gave me enough time to boil all the jars to sterilize them properly.

Before I canned them, I added a few dashes of cinnamon and a good splash of vanilla extract. Next time I would add a whole cinnamon stick and a whole vanilla bean for that last power hour. It would be hard to overspice this stuff. I mean, if you think about it, it's only like a tiny dash of cinnamon per plum. It smells warm and spicy and just like October.

Then I filled the sterilized Mason jars with the sticky jammy stuff, boiled them another ten minutes, and set them out to seal.

And that's it! My favorite crostini so far is a toasted slice of sourdough with butter, plum butter and a swirl of honey on top. It needs a dollop of ricotta and it will be autumn umami.

Plum Butter

- A crockpot full of washed and pitted plums
- 2 1/2 cups sugar
- ~2 TBS vanilla extract (or 1 vanilla bean)
- ~2 TBS cinnamon (or 1 cinnamon stick)

Turn crockpot on low for about 16 hours. Prop open the top and leave on low another 8 hours. Crack up to high and take the top off entirely while you sterilize the Mason jars. Add a good drop of vanilla extract and a few shakes of cinnamon, or if you can, add a whole vanille bean and cinnamon stick. Fill each jar to the top, seal, and boil for ten minutes. Set out and listen for that sweet popping sound. Store in the fridge once opened.

Brooklyn's Five Leaves Burger in Pullman

I'll be honest: I've been kind of homesick for the city lately. Maybe it's because I don't have the wedding to keep me occupied anymore and now here I am actually feeling present in the present moment and who wants to do that when you live in the boonies! I miss my friends and the subway and the artsy people and the random finds and the crazy connections. Woody Allen said it best about the country: there's no place to walk after dinner.

In my fit of NYC-homesickness this past weekend I dug out the old New Brooklyn Cookbook with recipes from some of my favorite haunts. In my old life as a Brooklyn restaurant blogger I made my favorite burger once and felt quite proud of myself. This time I felt inspired to do it again, but do it BETTER, with all my post-registry kitchen items. And so, ladies and gents, the post-wedding, Pullmanized Five Leaves Burger!

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The Five Leaves burger is known for its unique combination of sweet pineapple, pickled beet, creamy egg and spicy mayo. It's such a fabulous combination for a burger that you don't even realize there isn't cheese on it. 

We tried to make everything home made in this burger. I should have grabbed some of my coworkers' home grown eggs, but instead I bought a dozen. I should have tried to make my own rolls in the bread machine but that didn't happen either.

I did buy a whole pineapple -- not canned this time -- and marinaded the slices 48 hours in the boiled vinegar-honey solution.

The beets I bought whole and raw, baked for an hour, then marinaded in the pineapple solution with some lemon juice. It was the lazy person's pickling.

The meat was a chuck steak that we ground with the Kitchen Aid attachment, hand formed into patties, and grilled on our brand spankin' new grill out back.

I couldn't find harissa, so I made the sauce with mayo, Sriracha and juice from a whole lime.

The final product had that wobbly, amateur finish -- the pineapple slices still had coriander seeds stuck to it, the ciabatta roll was a little big for our little burger patties -- but man, if it didn't feel good to sink my teeth into a Five Leaves burger on a hot summer day.

Pretty good imitation, huh?

Want to try your hand at it? Find the full recipe here. 

Alone Time + How I'm Learning to Cook

When my new husband (!) left for Seattle for a few days this morning, I was kinda bummed. I was thinking The honeymoon is really over! and How is this fair for newlyweds to spend 3 whole days apart? But then I remembered I'm an INTROVERT and I haven't had alone time in WEEKS and how else am I going to regenerate my energy?

So after work I skipped merrily along to the farmer's market and came home with lots of fun goodies for my first solo night in a long time.

Now back in NYC I would head to the Union Square Market and pretty much shrug at everything because how am I supposed to cook that? And shouldn't I just let the experts do it and it's too hot to cook anyway but gee it sure looks pretty in that box and maybe I should just take a picture and then get a beer somewhere before I head back on the L train.

There are no such distractions here in Pullman, and no such luxuries as "someone else will cook it better" because they WON'T. I think it's this feeling of "it's me or no one" that has pushed me to actually start chopping things up and putting them in hot oil and then wow! Dinner!

My home cooking endeavors started off as finding a recipe, going out, buying all the ingredients, measuring everything, and carrying out all the tasks listed in the grease-splattered cookbook. But like any other craft, you start to get the hang of it. You read through a recipe and take the parts you like. You remember cooking techniques that work and apply it with different ingredients and flavors. And you stop measuring! Because unless you're baking then there's really no point. 1/4 teaspoon of salt should really be more, anyway, so why not just eyeball it? And then you save money because you're skilled at tailoring dinner towards what you have and not what's $10/lb at the grocery store. (See? I've learned to be frugal, too!)

Tonight I think I advanced a little more with a beet salad I made up with veggies from the market, a fried rice I tweaked from Cooking Light and a chicken I cooked on a memory and an instinct. I tried to match the dinner to the hot weather, to give me some cool relief with little nods to a fiery sun. I wanted something light and bright with little hints of earthy spiciness.

I call it Yogurt-Dill Chicken with Lemongrass Rice and Honey Beet Salad.

Whoooo-what! That sounds crazy. Like a real adult person's dinner and not what I used to do when Rob went away which was... um.. an excuse for a giant takeout pepperoni and ricotta calzone from a place on Manhattan Ave with lots of pictures of Italian people on the walls.

Oh, memories.

Well I'm not skilled at writing recipes yet (because again, I don't measure) but maybe you're an eyeball-er too and just want the highlights.

The chicken breast was marinated in plain yogurt, lots of fresh dill from the farmer's market, garam masala, lemon juice, garlic powder, curry powder, red pepper and cumin. Shook off the marinade. Sauteed about 4 minutes per side, then into the convection oven at 350 for about 15 minutes because its way too hot to turn on the actual oven. It didn't come out yogurt-y at all, just had lots of great aromatic Indian spices, and the creamy freshness from the yogurt adhered all those great flavors to the meat.

  
The white rice I cooked as usual, without salt or butter. Then I sauteed some onions in oil with lemongrass powder, added the rice in, turned the heat off and added lemon juice and lots of parsley.

The salad took a bit more creativity. I don't know if you're supposed to blanch beets or not, but I did. And as I was boiling them, the grassy smell made me think of peas, so I blanched some of the sugar snaps, too. Then I remembered I got cucumbers from the farmers market too, so I salted those and chopped them up. Fresh, green, crunch. Mixed everything together and chilled it. I made a vinagrette with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, honey and lemon juice. It tasted awful. I adjusted the amounts. It tasted better. I added more honey and a little orange peel. Perfect. Glazed it over the beet salad.

Then I set the table with new Crate & Barrell placemat and napkin from the registry and put the farmer's market snapdragons in water. And maybe I had a Topcutter IPA too. I'M ALLOWED!

Being a newlywedded introvert with a budding talent for fresh and local cooking is kind of awesome.

I still think about that calzone sometimes, though.