Comfort Foods and Indulgences

If it were up to the kids, ice cream would be a freezer “staple”. My list of staples includes; lentils, quinoa, brown rice, black beans, cheese, nuts – all kinds, tahini, coconut milk, and the usual cast of characters to creating whole meals. Ice cream is not on my list. 

As a rule, I do not buy ice cream at the grocery store. The problem being, when it is in the house it becomes the obsession. Rather than a bowl of fruit or hummus and veggies for an after school snack, the kids go right for the freezer. It bugs me.

Los Angeles has been experiencing a month long heatwave. Turning on my oven has been avoided at all costs. With an excessive amount of egg yolks residing in my fridge, ice cream has become the weekly sweet treat.

What I love most about this particular recipe, is that the custard embodies fridge staples, making it easy to adapt it to a “flavor of the day or week”. With pre made cookie dough on hand, one of my kids favorite flavors can be achieved in less than 30 minutes.

Not to mention, no need to get anywhere near the oven!

In the past I would make lots of mini quiches and freeze them for snack time or unexpected guests. These little baked egg cups have replaced those cute little quiches, no crust needed, thus no gluten. I prefer them purely vegetarian. Using up veggies from the previous nights meal (roasted asparagus, potatoes, broccoli, sauteed spinach, etc.) is right in line with my “no waste” philosophy. These are just another way to “re-purpose” staples and ingredients I already have on hand.

Generally, I like my eggs served with homemade salsa or onion marmalade on the side. Not only does it add so much more flavor, but it brings a bit of color to the plate. And think about the possibilities for your next brunch. Make these in advance, in a variety of flavor combos, leaving more room for Bloody Mary’s and conversation.

My favorite combo, so far, is this one or one made with blanced asparagus, goat cheese, and leeks. Make a double recipe. Keep them in the fridge for up to four days…that is, if they last that long.

My mom says I have expensive taste. You wouldn’t know it by the stores I go to, such as Marshall’s and Loehmann's. Yet, when it comes to eating, I like high quality foods and am more than willing to splurge.

That’s why I didn’t hesitate to buy saffron. Well, that’s not really true. I did hesitate. Not because of the price; because I have an uneasy relationship with saffron. It’s sort of like kissing someone, and the "wow" factor just isn’t there. You know, he’s a nice guy, but there aren’t any fireworks. So, you give him another try, and it’s great. Then the next time it's only so-so. You know what I mean? That’s been my experience with saffron. (Not with guys; Jeff has always been a great kisser).

I’m unequivocal when it comes to food – when I don't like something, I don't usually try it again. Which is why I’m surprised about my willingness to give saffron another chance. When I first tasted it in a great Indian restaurant, I found its floral overtones unpalatable. I thought I would be put off saffron forever after that. However, another delicious Indian restaurant redeemed saffron for me by serving it in a lovely rice and pea dish. Since then, I've had it in Spanish and Middle Eastern dishes and have begun cooking with it (to mixed results). Yet, the recipe I share today is a keeper. And coming from me, that is high praise.

I love Austin, Texas. The people are warm, the food is amazing, and the weather – well, let's not talk about the weather. Let's stick with the people and the food. One morning while Jeff and I were eating breakfast at an Austin eatery, we started chatting with a lovely elderly couple next to us. The conversation quickly turned to food: we talked brisket, chili, Shiner bock (which they drink from the bottle), and cornbread. When I told the wife that I had never made corn bread in a skillet, she replied, in a dramatic affected Southern accent, "Well, dahlin', if it ain't made in a cast-iron skillet, then it ain't cornbread."

She shared how her skillet had been in her family for three generations and how she wouldn't dream of making cornbread in a regular metal pan or glass baking dish. I would have loved to share a sentimental tale about my family's cast-iron skillet and corn bread recipe, but the truth is, we don't have one. Sure, my mom made cornbread, but it usually came from a Jiffy box, and I wasn't gonna tell that to the Texan with the third generation cast-iron skillet.