Bar Cookie Discrimination - And Soup With Salad

I'll confess that I'm not a person who gets excited about the holidays.

You know the type of person I'm talking about? I'm picturing an over-the-top co-worker who decorates their oatmeal cubicle for every holiday and also dresses for the holiday right down to a a sparkly sweater, holiday-themed turtleneck,  matching socks, and -especially for Christmas- a Santa hat with jingle bell.

I'm equally not celebrating the fact that one of the local radio stations decided to begin broadcasting Christmas music 24/7 - in early November. Please! Halloween had just ended.

Christmas cookies, on the other hand, I can relate to. So on a recent business trip I picked up a copy of  The Christmas Cookie Club by Ann Pearlman. But, uh, I have two small cookie-related issues with the book:  

1. I like bar cookies. In fact, I like bar cookies so much that I started a tumblr feed for them. 
2. Individual cookies are too much work - too much standing, too much stirring. I know this because I have made large quantities of them on my own many years ago, and have refused to make them ever since then.  

So perhaps you can understand why I was rather appalled that the hard-working bar cookie was written off immediately in the opening salvo of The Christmas Cookie Club: "No bars. They stick to each other and crumble."

No bar cookies allowed? Bah humbug.

Nevertheless, I still enjoyed the book. It was a light-hearted, gossipy, chick-flicky romp through an annual Christmas cookie club event, accompanied by cookie recipes and ingredient history lessons. I don't really know what the history lessons were doing in the book, but they were informative and brief.

The characters are stereotypical, but lovable: there's Marnie, the party hostess (aka, head cookie bitch,) who's widowed with children and learning to love again; then there's Vera, the former cocaine addicted stripper who turned her life around, and there's Sissy representing for all women of color replete with sassy attitude and talented (yet troubled) children.

The premise of the novel is equally simple: there this Christmas Cookie party every year. There are rules you must follow. If you don't follow the rules, you're out of the club. One of the club rules is that you have to share the story of why you chose these cookies this year - which becomes a metaphor for everything that's happened to you in the last twelve months because apparently the characters rarely see each other except on this mandatory first Monday in December. Still, as a Christmas Cookie Club participant, you get some eating, some drinking, some dancing, and twelve dozen cookies out of the event, plus all of the recipes.

In fact, there are more than twenty recipes in the book - and not only for cookies. Being a bar cookie snob, I snubbed the hand-rolled, fastidiously decorated cookies throughout the book. I am not going to take the time to hand-write fortunes, then hand-turn the little fortune cookies even though I have all of the time in the world to do so. And truth be told, not all of the cookies are that fussy.

I went for the Roasted Carrot Ginger Soup on page 327 and the Mandarin Orange Salad on page 328, and wasn't disappointed one iota. I chopped and combined the carrot, parsnip, onion, and brown sugar.

Chopped Vegetables with Brown Sugar

I poured in chicken stock, covered with aluminum foil, and placed into the oven for a couple of hours. Once removed from the oven, I carefully spooned all into a large stock pot, and added additional chicken stock. Then I let it boil for awhile, and finally pureed.

Making the salad was even more of a breeze. That involved macerating mandarin oranges in a combination of honey and cinnamon, and mixing with olive oil, salt, and pepper. That was added to fresh spinach and topped with toasted walnuts.

Mandarin Oranges, Honey, Cinnamon

The result? One fabulous late autumn lunch for me and more soup in the freezer for later. Delightful - just like The Christmas Cookie Club by Ann Pearlman (even without bar cookies.)

Soup and Salad

Roasted Carrot Ginger Soup
1 1/2 pounds carrots, peeled and halved lengthwise
1 pound parsnips, peeled and quartered lengthwise
1 large onion, sliced
3-inch piece of fresh ginger, peeled and chopped
6 tablespoons unsalted butter
3 tablespoons packed dark brown sugar
8 cups rich chicken broth, more if needed
Salt to taste
Pinch of cayenne pepper
1/4 cup creme fraiche for garnish
Snipped fresh chives for garnish

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Combine the carrots, parsnip, onion, and ginger in a shallow roasting pan. Dot with butter and sprinkle with brown sugar. Pour two cups of the broth into the pan. Cover well and bake until the vegetables are very tender, about 2 hours. Transfer the vegetables and broth to a large soup pot. Add the remaining six cups of broth. Season with salt and cayenne pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer partially covered for 10 minutes. (I completely forgot the butter, cayenne, creme fraiche, or chives. Still delicious!)

Mandarin Orange Salad
11-ounce can mandarin orange segments, drained
1 tablespoon honey
cinnamon
Handful of walnuts (broken into large pieces)
Lettuce (romaine, red or green leaf or mixed)
Extra-virgin olive oil
Salt and pepper, to taste

Place the mandarin oranges in a small bowl. Add honey and sprinkle with cinnamon. Set aside for several hours (or longer). Toast walnuts at 350 for 3 minutes, and let them cool. Wash and tear lettuce into bite-size pieces. Add oranges. Add enough olive oil to wet greens and toss well. Sprinkle with a little salt and pepper and sprinkle with walnuts. Note: If taking to a potluck, wait to toss with olive oil and keep walnuts in a small bag until ready to serve. (I used spinach instead of lettuce and toasted my walnuts in a dry pan on the stove top until nearly smoking and slightly burnt.)

P.S. CBS picked up rights to the book, so don't be surprised if The Christmas Cookie Club becomes another one of those oft-repeated holiday specials.

Halibuloo, Green Beans, Baked Apples

So as you probably know (or at least you've heard,) there's an "app" for everything.

An app is a small application to install on your iPhone that helps you organize your life. There is an app to  helps you (and your pet birds) destroy mean pigs - or perhaps save your virtual home from zombie invasion? I confess to enjoying both - and the Osho Zen Tarot Deck, too.

But don't even get me started trying to count the number and variety of apps out there to help you in the kitchen. I tried the Cooking Light app recently.

I used to subscribe to Cooking Light years ago, when one would actually subscribe to a magazine. With the internet, that doesn't happen much anymore. I can Google for just about anything, and most recipes from magazines are available online either before or shortly after publication. Still, I always liked most recipes I tried from Cooking Light, so I figured it was worth testing.

Despite being challenging to navigate on an iPod touch, browsing on an iPad would be no trouble as with a simple swish of a finger you see one glorious mouth-watering photo after another. I was entranced by the Halibut with tomato relish. I selected Brown-Butter Green Beans and Baked Apples with Chai Syrup as accompaniments.

Screenshot of Halibut with Tomato Relish

There was no halibut in my local grocery store, so I substituted fresh cod. While at the grocery store, I figured I would receive a tomato or two in this week's CSA package, so didn't buy any. But after I got home, I decided to make the fish immediately so improvised with avacado, shallot, lemon, pepper, garlic, cumin, olive oil, and a little sesame oil.

I reviewed the recipes, decided to not have the iPod on the counter while prepping and quickly wrote vague directions for all recipes. I taped them to the overhead cupboard, and winged the rest of the meal.

Hand-written vague directions

With the app, it's nearly impossible to know what needs to be prepped unless you've got all of the recipes in front of you.

With an archaic piece of paper, though, I could easily see that I needed to have the apples in the oven first, then prep the green beans, followed by the avocado mix for the fish. Only after those were prepped and the apple was in the oven did I begin to cook the fish and beans.

And while there is a menu feature, the app doesn't give suggestions for preparing a meal in a timely and efficient manner. And that is one huge strike against the app as time and efficiency are crucial for the modern cook. I stuck to my piece of paper and carried on.

The water came to boil, I dropped the green beans in, and the fish went into the pan to saute. A short while later the green beans were drained, shocked in cold water, and combined with browned butter, lemon, lemon zest, and salt and pepper. The fish finished shortly, flaking apart perfectly in the pan, and onto the plate they both went. About that time the apples were coming out of the oven, and I was ready to eat.

Browned-Butter Green Beans with Lemon

Cod with Sesame-Avocado Relish

Baked Apples with Chai Syrup

These recipes didn't disappoint; they were fast and easy to prepare, and quite tasty. But frankly, I didn't use the app while cooking.

With all of the potential liquids to invade the delicate interworkings, I just didn't want to chance an iPod disaster in the kitchen. And besides, have you tried to read and follow a detailed recipe from an iPod? It's a tiny screen. No way. Maybe on an iPad with a stand...and waterproofing.

There was, however, one app I did use while cooking - and I use it often when preparing multiple dishes. Kitchen Pad Timer kept track of cooking times for all items; in fact, it can manage up to four items on the stove top and four items in the oven. I wonder if the Cooking Light app will improve with a second use? We'll see soon.

Watermelon and Chocolate

So I was reading Rick Tramonto's Amuse-Bouche the other night and bemoaning the fact that I would probably never own a sous vide machine. After that I bemoaned the fact that the ice cream machine I tried was a dud, and that I probably should have picked up the Zoku popsicle maker in the store the other day. Custom popsicles anytime! Sign me up!

Reading through the book also brought me back to earlier in the weekend, sitting on a friend's porch in sweltering weather, eating some of the first watermelon of the season, liquid dripping to the ground with every bite. Unadorned, watermelon at it's best.

The amuse on page 34 of Tramonto's book caught my attention: watermelon with balsamic vinegar. And like a dream, the memory of the dark chocolate balsamic I'd received for Christmas floated right to me. I was scared to try it over vanilla ice cream. I've seen recipes for a pork tenderloin marinade, a salad dressing, and truffles. But watermelon? With Balsamic vinegar? This is definitely worth hunting down a good bottle of balsamic.

Get brave. It's summer, and definitely time time to challenge your taste buds in miraculous ways. Go to your kitchen and try this unsual combination. Tramonto gussies it all up by suggesting you get a melon baller and scoop out a smallish divet in precisely cut 1 1/2 inch cubes of watermelon. His recipe even says something like juice some watermelon and mix it up with the balsamic. I say, "It's summer, Rick, it's too hot to be fussy."

Sure for the first couple of pieces, I was cautious. I used a knife. I dug a little divet into the chunk of watermelon. And dripped out a teeny puddle of a drizzle of the Dark Chocolate Balsamic. Then I popped the first one in my mouth and moaned with pleasure.

Dear me - must have more. Now. As in, I know I just had a spectacular dark chocolate truffle, but I must have more NOW. Eventually I got impatient with the fussiness and just dipped. Either way, this is totally satisfying, ultra-summery. Yahoo! Bring on the sweet corn, tomatoes, and poolside dining!