Spring

This may just be the perfect breakfast bread.

It's a tweaked version of Dorie Greenspan's (Baking: From My Home to Yours) dense, fruit studded mango bread. It's so good that it may even surpass my beloved Banana Bread with Toasted Coconut and Almonds. And that's saying something.

I first made it last winter when we had relatives visiting. It was polished off in two days, and there were only four of us. I have made it several times since, and it has consistently received stellar reviews. It's on my "go-to list" of recipes and will surely be on yours too once you try it.

What makes this mango bread so delicious? Creamy mango, chewy raisins, aromatic ginger, and crunchy cashews to start. It's a satisfyingly moist, highly textured, aromatic bread with just the right sweetness. The only hard part is stirring the batter which is stunningly thick. You think to yourself, this will never cook, but it does, perfectly, every time.

The kitchen sink – epicenter of the kitchen and the house. We wash, prepare, cook, and serve from this spot, spending many an hour at this oasis. I love to keep little mementoes of my garden forays at the sink, reminding me of what’s blooming just outside my door. Making arrangements for my house at the sink gives me leftover blossoms, buds, and leaves to stick in my cache of containers awaiting a fresh floral look. And since the sink is such a personal, and well used piece of the home, my collection of “specials” is a close hand reminder of dear ones.

Mema’s silver tray, Aunt Irene’s mother-of-pearl salt and pepper shakers, a bud vase I stole from Mimi, a sprinkling of blue and white, a favorite Mason’s ware platter and a various and a sundry assortment of soaps stand guard as stylish and nostalgic items.

The seasons change but my assortment doesn’t too much. These items are neutral enough – silver, Depression glass, transferware or blue and white – to withstand the changing times and uphold the blooms of the current season. Red berries at Christmas, greens in the winter, spring buds and summer herbs, and autumnal hued leaves all find their place at my sink-side sanctuary.

From the LA Times

"But they're weeds."

My much better half is not, shall we say, "adventurous" when it comes to greens: A "real" salad is built around a wedge of iceberg or chopped romaine. Stewed collards are fine for New Year's Eve, and sautéed spinach can make an occasional appearance at the dinner table. But that's where the love ends. Forget arugula and radicchio, and don't even think about frisee.

So when I pitched dandelion greens for dinner the other night, well, you can probably understand the breathless shock.

Dandelions are an assertive green, just ask any gardener who's had to battle them on the front lawn or in cracks on the driveway. Unwanted, any greens are "weeds."

But have you ever bitten into a dandelion leaf? The flavor is tangy, even borderline bitter, with a definite texture. It's an assertiveness that can work wonders in the kitchen, provided you know how to handle it and pair the greens with complementary flavors.

Read more...

Cilantro haters have been vindicated.

The New York Times recently ran a story: Cilantro Haters, It's Not Your Fault, in which Harold McGee, respected food scientist and author, explained why cilantro really does taste like soap to many people.

According to experts from flavor chemists to neuroscientists, some people "may be genetically predisposed to dislike cilantro." Turns out that cilantro's aroma is created by fragments of fat molecules called aldehydes. Flavor chemists have shown that "the same or similar aldehydes are also found in soaps and lotions...."

So cilantro-haters are not crazy after all. But what about beet-haters? Why do so many people say beets taste like dirt or metal? Is it chemistry? Canned beets? Craziness?

Mention beets and people react extremely. Lovers wax that beets are as sweet as sugar. Haters wane that they're dull as dirt. Literally. This could be because they failed to properly clean their beets and ate dirt, which studies have shown tastes like dirt.