Retro Recipes and Traditional Fare

So far I have kept my New Year’s resolution to eat healthy. (Okay, so maybe except for the wine and a little chocolate.) This commitment includes a granola breakfast. (Later in the day, the menu gets very green.)

I have been obsessing about making the perfect granola to support my resolution. I have played with ingredients such as coconut (all formats: oil, sugar, shredded), millet, dried apricots, wheat germ, quinoa, etc. and I intend to continue messing with the recipe just to keep things interesting.

But as of today, I’m eating the one described below. It’s tasty, and makes me feel almost good about the fact that I’m not eating a croissant with jam.

Try it, knowing you can substitute almost everything with something else, if you are feeling granola obsessive. (This may not be the case for you if you, say, have a life.)

Sour cherries are revered for their tart taste, aroma, and flavor. They're a special fruit with lots of versatility in both sweet and savory recipes. In Hungary, sour cherries are king in early summer. They're too tart to enjoy fresh, though some people do eat them that way. Sour cherries are much better in recipes: tarts, pies, cakes, compotes, brandied cherries—these are some popular recipes. Here in the States sour cherries are pretty rare and hard to find, and their season is short, but they are in season now. If you look hard enough you'll find these red jewels in farmers' markets, especially on the East coast.

I love sour cherries in every which way, especially in sweet recipes, like pie and even soup. When I was a kid my mom would make sour cherry cakes and tarts, but she almost always used canned or jarred cherries, because it was difficult to find fresh ones. Luckily for me, I picked up two quarts of sour cherries at Cheerful Cherry Farm at the Union Square Greenmarket this past week. Immediately all the possibilities of what to make swirled in my mind. But I knew that making a sour cherry cake like my mom's would be the perfect choice.

Wow is all I can say.  I don't think you'll ever go back to a boxed cake after making this one.  It's fantastic.  It's what grandma used to make with it's one-of-a-kind flavor and "Betty Crocker" looks.

No mixer required.  No eggs even.  The oil in the ingredients keeps it moist and it keeps well...not that there are going to be leftovers.

It's really, really fabulous.  Just remember when you are baking from scratch...do not overmix, measure exactly, sift your dry ingredients (especially the cocoa which tends to be clumpy) and follow directions.  Your cake will be amazing and you will not go back to the box mix.

For me there's nothing more representative of the ocean than shellfish, particularly the beautiful blue mussel. I have always had an affinity for the ocean, and before my foray into marine biology, I was first and foremost a young curious kid who avidly collected shells to learn all about them. As a kid though I wouldn't eat mussels, or any shellfish for that matter; I thought they were just too beautiful or too gross. Now I can hardly remember a time that I didn't love eating shellfish. Ever since my first time having moules marinière, I have been in love with the sweet briny flavor of mussels. With a slice of crusty bread in hand, I now dive into a bowl of mussels with conviction.

That flavor marries perfectly with white wine and garlic, the basis for preparing moules in any of the Mediterranean countries. In this recipe, I augment those traditional flavors with the addition of slowly sautéed leeks for a sweet onion flavor and a unique fresh celery-like herb, lovage. This cousin of celery most resembles a cross between celery and parsley, both in appearance and in taste. An interesting fact is that the spice commonly sold as dried celery seed is actually lovage seed. As a fresh herb, lovage lends a bright flavor to foods, and just a few sprigs can add wonderful flavor profiles to soups and stews. Here in this recipe, it replaces the more traditionally used parsley just for one final twist.