Comfort Foods and Indulgences

I’ve never had luck trying to grow basil. It just never works for me. This year, one of the guys at the farmers market suggested I plant basil in 12-inch pots. I did. Today, two pots sitting in last summer’s square-foot garden hold basil that look like very lush, healthy shrubs. I just can’t believe it.

I pluck fragrant leaves from my basil plants everyday, layering them into sandwiches, tearing them to arrange over the top of homemade pizza, chopping them up to make fresh herb-flecked cream cheese spread and even steeping them in hot liquid to turn into jelly.

I recently discovered how well spicy-perfumed basil and sweet-tart ruby-red raspberries work together. Macerating raspberries with basil and a small amount of sugar produces a surprising treat for the taste buds. The longer the mixture is allowed to sit, the stronger the essence of basil will become. Basil-infused raspberry sauce is a unique topping for ice cream, waffles, French toast and is a delicious addition to a morning bowl of thick yogurt and homemade granola.

Yesterday, I stirred some Raspberry-Basil Sauce into a Chambord-spiked bowl of cheesecake batter. The resulting cake delivers an aromatic bouquet of fresh raspberries and basil with each forkful of creamy decadence. You won’t taste basil in the cake, but you will luxuriate in its refreshing sweet scent.

Levi has been begging for brownies. I had to honor his wish. Upon walking up to my large bookcase that holds my vast collection of cook books, it was Ad Hoc at Home that jumped out at me. I turned to the back of the book and I instantly opened the page to the brownies.  I had no choice. Along with laundry, preparing my meals for the week, brownies had become part of my Sunday morning routine.

Brownies are effortless. One bowl, few ingredients, a pan of some sort, and a short baking time. Unlike cookies, where every seven minutes you have to rotate the sheets, scoop and drop your batter, brownies are the equivalent to a one pot dish.

I have made a lot of brownies in my day, but these are not only super moist, but light and fudgy all at the same time.  So, I say thank you to Levi for making me cook from this book that I don’t nearly use enough and for sharing your smile when you walked into the kitchen that morning, bed hair and all!

Seattle is a dream city for a coffee-lover like me. If you type “coffee” on your smart phone’s Google Maps while standing in the city, it will explode.

On a three-day trip to Seattle, I decided I’d hit every coffeehouse that showed up on my map. I made it to nine before collapsing in a petit-mal seizure. By the time I walked into number nine, my hands were shaking so bad that I couldn’t swipe my credit card, so I had to just dump my cash on the counter for the barista to sort through.

Even in Seattle, you can’t survive on coffee alone; fortunately, there is no shortage of croissants, scones, macarons, and other assorted carbohydrates to keep you alive. My favorite were the bundt cakes, of which there were countless varieties in the coffeehouses I visited.  Bundt cakes are homey, comforting treats, perfect to pair with a strong mug of coffee. Or two. Or nine.

Growing up, we spent the month of August at a tennis resort near La Jolla, California. For me, it was like going to camp each year. The same families came back year after year and our days were filled with lots of tennis, stealing golf carts, movie night, and lunch at the “club house”. As a young child, sitting in the club house with my friends, drinking my “Tab” with lemon and ordering my own lunch was a huge treat.

I always ordered the same thing; grilled ham and swiss cheese on pumpernickel bread with a side of cabbage salad. It was grilled perfectly and all year long I would crave this sandwich. I did attempt to make it at home and although it was good, there was nothing better than eating it on the deck of the club house, looking down on center court – watching all the greats play.