Comfort Foods and Indulgences

I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I am not addicting to shopping, but I do confess to overindulging when it comes to chocolate. I have always loved chocolate and I pretty much need it everyday. I do admit to being addicted and it isn’t an addiction I care to break.

Sees candy was my first love. It was always the same selection; California Brittle, Scotchmallow, and Almond Royal. A trip to Sherman Oaks Fashion Square wasn’t complete with out a visit to Sees. Bess, an elderly lady with short white hair, was always behind the counter and as she saw me opening the door, she would start filling a little bag with all of my favorites. Bess was one of the special ones. I was blessed to have found her and would have loved her even if she didn’t work behind the glass counter at Sees.

Other favorites included Honey Comb at Little Johns in The Original Farmers Market, the perfect melt in your mouth truffles from Kron and now, as an adult I treat myself to Recchiuti caramels, and anything from Fran's.

With Valentine’s Day around the corner, I am thinking about what to give to all of those that I adore. Last year I made caramels, heart shaped butter cookies, and a rocky road fudge(originally chocolate covered marshmallows that turned into a disaster). Truly, I am not there yet, but I wanted to start with one of M’s childhood favorites – Almond Joy.

"The BBQ oysters were inspired by cookouts I’d have down in New Orleans. My friends and I would pull oysters out of the Gulf, crack them open and throw them on beach fires, and add all kinds of different sauces. Then, when I brought the recipe up to New York, I also was making this BBQ bacon sandwich. I thought, these two would be great together, so I combined the BBQ with the bacon and with the oysters." - Chef Paul Gerard, Exchange Alley, NYC

Oyster Barbecue Sauce:

1 bunch fresh thyme
Extra-virgin olive oil
1/2 onion, chopped
2 garlic cloves, chopped
1/4 cup fresh chilies
2 cups ketchup
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/4 cup molasses
1/8 cup tablespoons white vinegar
1 tablespoon dry mustard
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 teaspoon pimenton…smoked paprika
Freshly ground black pepper

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?

Have you ever had bananas in your kitchen that were so black and shriveled, you almost threw them out? It's happened to me so many times. Day after day I I tell myself I will make a batch of banana muffins. And finally, the day arrives when I actually pick up the deflated bunch of almost unrecognizable fruit and head for the door, with intentions of taking them out to the woods for animals to enjoy. But, I just can't do it. So, this week, I squeezed the mushy fruit from its shriveled, dark skin and stirred it into a rich mix of cream cheese, sugar and eggs to make cheesecake.

I must back up a little bit at this point. Years ago, in 2005 actually, I copied a recipe for Hot Buttered Rum Cheesecakes with Rum-Caramel Sauce from that year's December issue of Bon Appetit magazine. I ordered a bunch of tiny (4 1/2-inch) springform pans, ready to make the cheesecakes and give them as gifts. It never happened that year, or any year since that time. But, I still have the recipe. I vaguely remembered the recipe instructions for reducing some dark rum to stir into the cake batter. With the experience of tasting warm, rum-spiked bananas foster still clear in my mind – I made several flaming pans full of the dessert for a recent fundraising event for the Headwaters Science Center in Bemidji – I wondered if I could match the flavors of that dessert in a cheesecake.