Comfort Foods and Indulgences

A few weeks ago, I discovered the simple beauty of a homemade treat: milk oolong, honey & rose water tapioca. There was something so very satisfying about spending an hour in the kitchen sipping tea and handcrafting a simple sweet delight.

Craving the comforting sip of a matcha latte one evening, I decided to remix my first tea tapioca with a bit of the vibrant green Japanese powdered tea. While the first try at tea tapioca was subtly enhanced by the buttery milk oolong tea, this matcha infusion added its pronounced grassy and gently bitter flavor (similar to really wonderful dark chocolate) that balances the rich sweetness of the local honey and floral notes of the orange blossom water. And you can’t resist the rich green color that reminds you of freshly cut grass in the spring.

The trick to avoiding a grainy matcha tapioca is to take a few tablespoons of milk and add them to a bowl along with the 5 teaspoons of matcha. Stir in into a smooth paste to whisk into the heated milk. Just keep stirring throughout the hour and you’ll end up with a smooth, green spoonful.

If you are looking for an easy way to serve a crowd potatoes this summer, you should try this.  These sports bar-inspired creations are roasted instead of deep fried (like the loaded potato skins) and come out tasting great.

Choosing the smallest red potatoes you can find keeps them easy to eat.  A tray full on the table or the buffet line are a yummy addition to all the cookouts I know you are planning.

With butter, bacon and cheese they taste just as sinful as the deep fried version we are used to eating. 

I have to admit I have been craving potatoes lately.  After two weeks of rain, weed pressure in the vineyard is high.  I have been hoeing around the vines so that root establishment does not have any competition from our friends, "the weeds".  Anyway, it is extremely hard work and carbs have been calling.  These potatoes hit the spot.

Epic. It's my new favorite word. I can't stop saying it. And I'm sure everyone around me can't stand hearing it. It's just stuck in my head and currently living on the edge of my tongue.

I used the word WAY too many times yesterday. Once, when describing the epic "blackberry honey-hole" I found during my walk around the meadow. Then again when I mentioned the epic nachos I was making for dinner. And yet another time when I said I needed to go on this epic diet, after I ate the epic nachos and this epic shake. Oy. I guess I need a new word. I think it's going to be pariah. Don't ask me why.

So here's one of the reasons this shake is epic. First of all, when I buy buttermilk, I always buy the Bulgarian version. You see, buttermilk in its natural state is low-fat. It's the thin liquid left over after you churn butter from cream. Commercially-made buttermilk is created by adding bacteria cultures to milk, then heating the mixture to give it that tart, slightly fermented taste.

BUT, the Bulgarian version is a type of cultured buttermilk in which cream cultures are supplemented or replaced by yogurt cultures and fermented at higher temperatures for higher acidity. It can be more tart and thicker than cultured buttermilk. This is why it's epic. It's the only buttermilk I ever buy. And it is thicker and yummier and makes everything taste great. I hope you have it at your market. And I wish I knew why this process makes it "Bulgarian". Anyone?

Torrijas, a cross between French Toast and bread pudding, can be found throughout the year in Spain, but they are particularly popular for dessert around the Easter holiday. The tradition of reviving stale bread with eggs and milk dates back to Roman times, and most countries have their own particular version.

I first tried this dish at the Palace Hotel in Madrid and was impressed with the subtle flavors of cinnamon, lemon and honey. There are many variations of this treat – some soften the stale bread by soaking it in a sweet wine, while other variations use milk, and honey. The chef at the Palace was kind enough to share his recipe, which I think is just about perfect.

In Spain, it’s served cool or at room temperature (frankly almost everything in Spain is served at room temperature) and drizzled with honey syrup.