I can’t believe theses posts have gotten so far away from me! My spring semester cooking with kids started in late January.  This semester I am upping our International flavors which I’m very excited about. One of my fifth graders figured it out the smarty: “Are we cooking around the world? Last week we cooked Indian, now we’re doing Japanese.” Answer: Yes! As much as I can, I am.

I’m also introducing (some) meats and fish this semester. Overall with allergies, religions and dietary restrictions, it’s far easier to keep the cooking vegetarian (why haven’t schools figured that out?). On the other hand, I also think it’s important to expose young people to working with meats and fish, especially when raw. I know too many adults who are terrified to touch raw meat or fish– it’s horrible! How can you eat something if you can’t even bring yourself to touch it?! I have a few students with texture issues, but overall, most of them have been great with what we’ve done so far. If they begin to freak out I tell them to take a deep breath and imagine clay.

Another item is expanding our whole grains. The kids are totally fascinated with exploring these grains and connecting the dots– “Wait, chickpea flour, like the hummus bean?” “Yes!” Some folks (not my students) still don’t get it: “You know you could have just used rice there.”

“Right, but they know rice. They don’t know farro or bulgar.”

“Neither do I.”

“Exactly.”

I’m also pleased to introduce mystery fruit and vegetables. So much suspense and the kids eat it up, literally. It’s not something I do every week, but if we have something I know will take a good 15-20 minutes in the oven, or if I have some time to kill towards the end of class, I’ll bring in a mystery item. I try to keep it local and in season, and have often brought in items from my own CSA winter share to explore. Students get really excited if they can guess it, or at least recognize it. Celeriac brought shouts about a father’s favorite salad item. Watermelon radish brought total astonishment of the world’s smallest watermelon (which, is a radish, not a watermelon). One of my students even stopped by last Friday with his father before he went home: “Wait! We didn’t do a mystery vegetable this week?!” “I know, we didn’t have time we were so busy, I think we’ll do something next week.” “YES!” I had an admin in the other day observing my class and as we put our dish in the oven and I turned around with, “time for a mystery vegetable!” and my kindergarten/first grade class erupted in cheering the admin looked at me totally astonished. I’m not saying the kids chow down on everything but they love trying to place these sometimes foreign items and often will complete the whole sample plate I set out for them.

On to our foods, recipes at bottom.

Kibbeh with Black Cherry Sauce
Our semester started in the Middle East with lamb-beef kibbeh with a black cherry sauce. “Kibba-wha?” A sort of Middle Eastern meatball I explained, only instead of bread crumbs, like in Italian meatballs, we’re adding bulgar. We served these with a black cherry reduction (literally frozen cherries boiled down with a touch of lemon juice). These were a huge hit. We made extra for our end of the semester party and the kids are really excited to share these with their parents.

Banana-Coconut-Oat Bread
Because of so many allergies I don’t cook with nuts. It kills me sometimes! For example, I LOVE peanut butter cookies and muffins and I LOVE walnuts in my banana bread. I get my kick by adding ingredients like oats, or seeds with nutty characteristics, like flaxseed or pumpkin seeds to get that nutty flavor. This bread was a hands down hit and the best part was it wasn’t overly sweet at all. The bananas are upped so much in this recipe that a true banana flavor really shines through and the sweetness of the banana makes up for the huge amount of sugar that’s in most recipes. We made ours with raisins I soaked overnight, but this could easily be made with chocolate chips, dried strawberries, blueberries, cranberries, or any other fruit-nut combo you can think of that you like with banana.

Chicken Soup with Farro & Buttermilk Chive Biscuits
There is only one kind of week when I’m thankful for cold, rainy weather. It’s any week we’re making soup in class! I remember this week started and ended dreary and I was so happy all week everyone must have thought I was totally twisted. (Really though, I love soup in any weather!) We used chicken thighs and wings for the broth and my students got a huge kick out of it– everyone wanted a wing in their soup. Instead of celery for our base flavor we used fennel. This turned out great since the week before fennel was our mystery vegetable. My students overall loved it so I turned a basic chicken soup into an Italian twist. To bring it back to the States, we made mini buttermilk biscuits.

Timing here was perfect for our one hour class: get soup simmering, make biscuits, bake biscuits, strain soup, add sliced carrots and fennel, biscuits out, divy up soup and biscuits. I cooked the farro at the beginning of class and allowed everyone to taste it before it went into the cups where our broth was going. I also threw some cranberry beans in because I found out during our arepa week that my students are a sucker for beans. The best part was when some of my students turned those biscuits into dumplings after a few slipped biscuits floated and were made better soup-soaked.

Moong dal Chilla (Indian Lentil Pancakes)
This week could have been a huge disaster. It luckily turned into a huge success. Even the admin was skeptical: “Lentil pancakes, good luck on that one.” And every student walking into the classroom: “Yeah! pancakes!” “No guys, look, lentil pancakes, these are savory pancakes.” That statement often received not too enthusiastic grumbles. In the end, these were a huge hit. I soaked moong dal beans (split hulled mung beans) in water overnight. Blitzed those to a paste and cut it with chickpea flour. We added some Indian flavors and in the interest of time, poured these into a half sheet pan, brushed them with olive oil and baked them (as opposed to cooking up 15 pancakes on a skillet). We also made a quick raita to eat these with and I’d say in the end I received about 90% thumbs up reviews.

Nori Wrapped Cod Cakes (pictured above)
I found out that before I started teaching someone had made vegetable sushi with the kids to rave reviews. I couldn’t understand why at first. But sushi is so hot these days, even kindergardeners will eat up the basic veggie rolls. What surprised me though was when someone told me it was the seaweed they loved. What? Most of my students will snack on sheets of nori like crackers (and did throughout class– I had to put a snack bowl out!). They love the subtle saltiness and crisp flakiness of it. So I couldn’t wait to work seaweed into a dish this semester.

Inspiration came when I thought of making a fish stick with a Japanese bent. Flaky, neutral cod (with some seasonings), rolled into panko crumbs and wrapped with nori. We even stuck little skewers in it so it was not just a fish stick, but fish on a stick. My students loved it. It reminded them of the sushi they made before, but opened them up to a delicious fish.

Green Mac N’ Cheese (pictured above)
I try to stick with a few holidays during the semester. St Patrick’s Day is one I figured I could have a little fun twist with– something along the green eggs and ham motif. I’m from Chicago where St Pat’s was a day when not only the River got dyed green, but every piece of toast and milk along with it. So in class, I thought, why not green mac n’ cheese!

This day was another hilarious introduction to our menu: “We’re making green mac n’ cheese!” “I don’t get it– We’re using food coloring?” “No! We’re going to make our mac n’ cheese green by pureeing spinach into our sauce.” “What?! That’s so unfair!” I love how things so easily become unfair with young people.

What’s hilarious here is that the spinach was gross (for the younger students) all the way into the sauce, but once that immersion blender smoothed it out it was suddenly “cool, like a green milk shake, but smells like mac n’ cheese!” In the end I had students coming back for more and more of the green stuff. At home, D and I have been known to make a few mac n’ cheeses. Our favorite is a fig-bacon-mushroom mac n’ cheese, but I could see this one at home with some shrimp or better yet lobster tossed in! Yum!

NOTE: The picture above are of some of my fourth/fifth grade students. A few weeks ago I started letting them take the reigns more while I supervise. Essentially they get into class and form their small groups, we review the ingredients together and they take over from there, following the recipe on their own. They’re loving their new responsibilities in the kitchen and I’m loving that they’re capable (almost) solo chefs!

*****

Kibbeh with Black Cherry Sauce (aka Middle Eastern meatballs)
10 servings, appetizer

Kibbeh:
3/4 cup onion (about 1 large onion), rough chopped
1 cup fine-ground bulgur, cooked
1/2 pound ground lamb
1/2 pound lean ground beef
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon allspice
2 tablespoons olive oil

Puree the onion in a food processor or blender. Transfer to a bowl. Add cooked bulgur, lamb, beef, salt, pepper and allspice. Mix until thoroughly incorporated. Roll into small meatballs, about 1-inch in size. Add olive oil to a sauté pan set over medium high heat. Cook until browned on both sides. Serve with Black Cherry Sauce (recipe not included).

*****

Banana-Coconut-Oat Bread
1 loaf

1-1/4 cups whole wheat flour
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup quick-cooking oats
1/2 cup brown sugar (substitute: honey)
1/4 cup shredded coconut, toasted
1 tablespoon flax seeds, finely ground
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon cinnamon
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter, in 1 tablespoon pieces, room temp
1/4 cup coconut oil, in 1 tablespoon pieces, room temp
1-1/2 cups ripe bananas, (about 3 large bananas)
1/4 cup buttermilk (substitute: plain or coconut yogurt)
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 large eggs, beaten
1 cup raisins (substitute: dates, currants, 1/2 chopped walnuts, chocolate chips, etc)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F. Butter a 9”x5”x3” loaf pan, set aside.

In a large bowl whisk together the flours, oats, brown sugar, shredded coconut, flax seeds, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, salt and allspice. Add butter, coconut oil, bananas, buttermilk, vanilla and eggs. Using a potato masher, smash and mix the ingredients together until fully incorporated. (It’s okay to leave some larger pieces of banana). Stir in raisins. Transfer to loaf pan.

Bake the bread on the middle rack approximately 1 hour 15 minutes, until a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Cool 10 minutes on a wire rack before removing from pan.

*****

Moong Dal Chilla (Indian Lentil Pancakes) with Raita
8-10 servings

Moong Dal Chilla:
1 cup moong dal (split yellow mung beans found in Indian food section. Can substitute yellow split peas)
1 carrot, shredded
1/2 red onion, shredded
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon fresh ground ginger
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1 cup chickpea flour
1/2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
1/4 cup whole cooked chickpeas
ghee (clarified butter) or olive oil

Rinse moong dal and soak in a water bath overnight (minimum 4 hours). Blitz drained moong dal in a food processor with 1/4 to 1/2 cup water, until a smooth paste forms.

Warm 2 tablespoons olive oil in a sauté pan over medium-high heat. Add carrot and onion, sauté 5 minutes until softened. Add salt, cumin, ginger, garlic powder and turmeric, sauté 2 minutes more, until flavors are released. Transfer to a medium bowl.

Heat oven to 450 degrees F. Stir in chickpea flour, cilantro, whole chickpeas and 1 cup water, mixing until well combined. Set aside for 15 minutes. Transfer batter to a sheet pan lined with parchment paper and lightly oiled (jelly roll pan with 1 inch sides). Bake 10-15 minutes, until just golden at the edges. Serve with raita, fruit chutney or chopped tomatoes.

*****

Nori Wrapped Cod Cakes
8-10 servings

2 pounds fatty white fish like cod, pollock, haddock or salmon
2 eggs
1 cup cooked brown rice
1/3 cup chopped scallions, whites and light green only
1/4 cup chopped cilantro, stems and leaves
1 teaspoon white pepper
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon fish sauce
nori (seaweed), cut into 1/2-inch strips
panko crumbs (Japanese bread crumbs)
grapeseed or other neutral oil

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and brush with oil,

In a food processor, puree fish with eggs until a smooth paste forms. Transfer to a bowl and fold in brown rice, scallions, cilantro, pepper, salt and fish sauce. Place about 1 cup of panko crumbs on a plate. Dampen hands with cold water, then shape fish batter into balls, about the size of a golf ball. Roll in panko crumbs then wrap the nori strip around the formed fish ball. Place on baking sheet, seam down, and flatten slightly to about 3/4- inch thickness. Continue with remainder, spacing about 1 inch apart. Bake 10-15 minutes until lightly golden. Serve with soy sauce.

Note: Make these Fish Balls Thai flavored by adding red or green Thai curry paste. To make these Norwegian or Spanish, remove fish sauce and scallions for some parsley, garlic and red onions. Thai-style can be served with a little sweet-sour sauce, Spanish with some sofrito (tomato sauce), New England-style with tartar, etc.

Sweet Potato Latkes with Applesauce

Last week my students harnessed their Bubbes. Out came the graters, or as the kids call them, “the shredders,” pushed back their sleeves, tied on those aprons and got down to business. Potatoes are hard for little hands to shred, especially those larger sweet potatoes. They are heavy, they are awkwardly shaped and they’re dense. As you can see in the picture above, sometimes two sets of hands (a second to hold the shredder) was needed.

The students were great sports through it all.

“Latkes? What’s that.”

“They’re potato pancakes for Hannukah.”

“What do they taste like?”

“Sort of like french fries.”

And that’s all it took to set them into a shredding frenzy.

I broke each class into three groups, each making a different latke flavor so we could explore some spices. One made plain salt and pepper, another made cumin and the third made our “dessert” cinnamon latkes. A few eggs and then we crisped them up in olive oil and enjoyed them with applesauce. (recipe at bottom)

Lemon Stained Glass Cookies

This week my classes are celebrating their second week of holidays. As Hannukah is just about leaving us, we’re busy cutting cookies for Christmas. This week, we turned boring sugar cookies into zippy cinnamony-lemon treats. We took those zippy cookies and added another element, cutting out smaller shapes in the cookies, then filling those cut outs with crushed hard candies.

The kids loved how our opaque sugar powders (ground Jolly Ranchers) turned into smooth clear centers. When held up to the light these cookies are really dazzling. Of course, in class, our cookies were eaten so quickly we didn’t even bother to poke a hole at top to hang them.

A word to those working these cookies in your own kitchen: keep an eye on the flour and dough scraps! At the end of each day I am thrilled I’m not the one to mop up the floor (and sorry for the one that does). If it’s any consolation I do have to scrape off the bottom of my shoes. (recipe at bottom, photo tk)

****

Sweet Potato Latkes with Applesauce
Makes about 20 small latkes

2 pounds sweet potatoes
1 small Vidalia onion
2 eggs
1 teaspoon salt
Add one:
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

Grate sweet potatoes and onion using the largest setting on a box grater. Spread potatoes and onions on a paper towel, cover with more paper towels and press to expel water. Transfer the potatoes and onions into a bowl. Add eggs and salt.  For regular flavored latkes, add ground pepper. For cumin flavored latkes, add cumin. For cinnamon “dessert” latkes, add the cinnamon. Alternatively, after adding the eggs and salt, divide the mixture between three bowls and add the seasoning to each for three different latke flavors.
Warm olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Place a scoop of potato batter into the pan and flatten with a spatula. Fry until darkly golden, about 6 minutes, flip and fry another 5 to 6 minutes.Transfer to serving plate and serve with applesauce and sour cream.
*****

Lemon Stained Glass Cookies
Makes about 30 cookies

1 stick unsalted butter, at room temperature
3/4 cup sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon lemon extract
1 teaspoon lemon zest
1-1/4 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
7 ounces clear hard candies, broken into small pieces (Recommended: Jolly Rancher)

Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Note: an easy method for breaking hard candies is to put them through the coffee grinder.
With an electric mixer, beat butter and sugar until fluffy. Add the egg, lemon extract and lemon zest. Beat to combine about 1 minute more. Sift in flours, cinnamon, baking powder and salt. Mix until just combined.
Form the dough into a smooth ball and transfer to a well floured surface. Flatten dough into a sphere and sprinkle with flour. Roll out dough to about 1/8-inch thickness. Cut desired shapes using large cookie cutters. Transfer cut dough to a parchment-lined cookie sheet. Use smaller cookie cutter shapes, removing shapes from the cookies, leaving approximately a 1/2-inch border around the edges. Gather scraps, form into a ball and re-roll dough for more cookies. Poke a hole at the top of the cookies (to create ornament cookies). Sprinkle a layer of hard candy in the small cookie cutter holes. Bake 10 minutes. Allow cookies to cool about 10 minutes on cookie sheet before removing them with a thin spatula.

“This isn’t pasta– it’s pillows of heaven!”

I share the same sentiments, but a fifth grader beat me with getting the words out.

Gnocchi week has been the best success yet. Dare I say better than pumpkin muffins?

At the insistence of Kitchen Rule #1, “Try Everything” I was able to nudge skeptical students to try the gnocchi. No joke, not only did most everyone return for seconds, many kept coming back.

My original plan was to make a sage and spinach gnocchi from a recent Saveur. I liked it because it utilized semolina flour and I’m always looking to introduce my students to a new ingredient. My mind eventually wandered as I thought about amping up the fall flavors. I toyed with pumpkin gnocchi and sweet potato gnocchi. I decided against both since we’ve used them recently, or will in weeks to come.

I also wanted to move away from sage because we used it in our empanadas. I switched the herb to rosemary, something we have yet to explore.

In the end I went with beets. I knew the kids would get a kick out of the color– “Pink pasta! This isn’t like any pasta I’ve seen before!” I kept chopped spinach to add some color, along with the semolina flour. (At home, I would have used chopped beet greens instead of spinach, but going with frozen chopped was a little time saver.)

I really liked the semolina flour. It provided great texture and richness to the gnocchi. Both the beets and spinach were subtle flavor enhancers. Infusing the butter in rosemary before browning these pillows of heaven left a truly heavenly aroma in the kitchen and lingering on the pasta.

We browned these gnocchi on a skillet instead of boiling. It gave a great crispness to the pasta and you can’t beat butter infused with rosemary!

Beet and Spinach Gnocchi
8 servings

1 lb russet potatoes (recommended: small potatoes)
1/2 cup pureed beets (about 2 small beets; use pre-cooked or see method below)
1-1/4 cups semolina flour, plus more
4 ounces frozen spinach, thawed and drained (or: chop, sauté and drain your beet greens! The flavor is similar to spinach.)
2 eggs, beaten
1-1/2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon nutmeg, plus
freshly ground black pepper to taste
4 tablespoons butter
4 3-inch rosemary sprigs
Parmesan cheese

Special Equipment: Ricer or Food Mill

NOTE: In class, I cooked, peeled and cooled beets and potatoes early in the week. This made assembly of the gnocchi a super fast snap!

Preheat oven to 400F. Snip greens from beets (save for another use), wrap in foil and roast until soft, about 45 minutes. Remove skin under cold running water, set aside to cool. Boil whole potatoes, skin on, until soft, 25-30 minutes. Cool and peel potatoes by slipping the skin between two paper towels.

Pass beets and potatoes through a ricer into a medium bowl. Stir in drained spinach, flour, eggs, nutmeg, salt and a few turns of black pepper until well combined. (NOTE: Drain spinach by pressing the water out.) Batter should hold together when pressed but still be sticky.

Scoop a heaping spoonful of the dough onto a semolina-dusted work surface. Roll into a log, about 1/2-inch thick. Slice into 1/2-inch long pieces, transfer to a semolina-dusted parchment-lined baking sheet. Continue to re-flour (if necessary) scoop and roll dough until done.

Warm butter in a skillet. Add rosemary and sauté 2 minutes until fragrant. Add gnocchi to pan and a pinch of nutmeg, cooking until browned, about 4 minutes each side. Continue until all gnocchi is cooked, adding more butter if needed. Once complete, toss gnocchi together lightly in a serving bowl with any reserved rosemary or butter from pan. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese to serve.

NOTE: Leave out the beets and try sweet potato or winter squash (like pumpkin) gnocchi. Or, add 2 tablespoons tomato paste (red gnocchi), pureed spinach for green, or other veggie for another color. Serve with sautéed mushroom or tomato sauce.

These muffins were a lot of fun to make and the students loved them. To make a more adult or general fall version, nix the frosting altogether, or do a maple syrup-powdered sugar glaze (keeping them more local too). The muffins are 100% whole wheat and the flavor is enriched by lovely fall spices and molasses in lieu of white sugar.

In class, we made mini muffins and everyone was able to decorate three– one to eat in class, two to bring home. We did coconut frosting because I wanted the texture to give the witches and goblins we would be creating a creepier face. Otherwise, I cut the sugar in the frosting by 1 cup with the addition of unsweetened coconut. I had a number of students proclaim they didn’t like coconut but at the end of the day they were eating the muffins with as much gusto as everyone else.

I broke our one hour class time similar to pizza day. Monday before class I made and baked a batch of muffins (so the muffins would be cool when we worked with them). In class we made a batch of batter, which I then refrigerated for the next day’s class. Students made the frosting and were provided decorations. Most of the students worked really fast on these so I was able to take my time going over the ingredients. The following class day I baked yesterday’s batter and had the muffins ready to go.

For decorations, I split the frosting into six batches and added a few drops of food coloring. This gave the students red, orange, green, blue, black and white bases to work with. Next they mostly had dried fruit for add ons: dates, bananas, raisins, cranberries, papaya and ginger. Also, pretzel sticks, marshmallows and a few sprinkles. I told my students to work for shape, rather than a candy pile on.

In all our excitement I forgot to take photos of some of my students truly amazing creations. We had marshmallow mummies, monsters with banana chip tongues, spiders with date arms, witches, devils, ghosts, goblins, cyclops, and beautiful abstract blobs of holiday color (perhaps a Kadinsky or two in our future). Which is why above, is a picture of my classroom blackboard, rather than some fabulous looking muffins.

One of my kindergarteners approached me after class and asked how I came up with our project for the day.
“It’s Halloween week.”
“I think you’re smart because I really like these.”
“Thanks, I’m glad you had so much fun.”
“Yeah, and also, do you know how to make pumpkin pie? Because you’re going to make a pumpkin pie for my Halloween party this weekend.”
No demands. I should have suggested that since he is now an expert at muffins, and enjoyed them so much, he should make them for all his friends.

Aprons were a train wreck at the end of the week so make sure to cover up, especially with the food coloring.

Pumpkin Spice Muffins with Coconut Frosting
Makes 24 mini muffins. Bake time= 15-18 minutes.

Muffins:
3/4 cup pure pumpkin puree
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses
2 tablespoons butter, melted
2 tablespoons crushed ginger
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1-1/2 cups whole wheat flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 tablespoon ground flax (optional)
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground clove
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
Frosting:
1 8-ounce package cream cheese, room temperature
1 cup powdered sugar
1 cup unsweetened coconut flakes
2 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Decoration:
Black, green, orange, red, blue food coloring, assorted dried fruit and candies, etc

Preheat oven to 350F. Line 24 mini muffin cups with liners. In a medium bowl add pumpkin, egg, molasses, butter, ginger and vanilla. Stir until well combined. Sift in whole wheat flour, baking powder, flax, salt, cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, clove and baking soda. Mix until just combined, being careful not to over mix ingredients.

Scoop batter into muffin liners. Bake 15-18 minutes, until a toothpick comes out clean. While baking, whisk together frosting ingredients. Divide frosting into small bowls. Dye one green, one orange, one black, etc. Set aside.

Remove muffins from oven. Let cool 10-15 minutes. Frost and decorate with assorted candies and dried fruit.

Sadly, the sour cherry season is coming to a close. If you look hard you might be able to find the last sours of the season. I’ve heard reports from friends hitting up local farmer’s markets that they can still find them depending on where the farm comes in from.

Last week I was visiting D who is teaching and performing in upstate NY for the month. In a desperate attempt to find fresh fruit– any fruit, I finally found an orchard with pick-your-own sour cherries.* I happily dragged D out in his limited time off for an afternoon of cherry picking.

“What are you going to do with all this?! There must be 20 lbs of fruit here!” D exclaimed towards the end of our pickin’.

“If you think this is 20 lbs you seriously need to start lifting weights, it’s closer to 10. And do? Cherry cobbler, cherry ice cream, maraschino cherries, brandy cherries, cherry jam… What won’t I do?!”

Final verdict: 12 lbs picked and D will hopefully start on his weight regimen on his return to the city.

We returned to the home of our friends J and L and I got to work pitting my cherries. You can see in the photo above I actually have a cherry pitter, which sadly, is not the best tool for sour cherries because they are a little softer than sweet cherries. I also don’t appreciate the double hole pitters create (one where the poker goes in and one where the pit comes out). I found it wasted a lot of juice in these precious globes. Instead, I ended up using a paperclip trick the orchard suggested.

That night, a cherry cobbler was on the table and the rest went into freezer bags to accompany me back to NYC for my ice cream, brandy, jam and more. I even kept the pits to make cherry pit ice cream (which tastes like almond). But as I looked at the 3 bags of cherries those 12 lbs-less-a-cobbler didn’t look like very much anymore. I promptly called the orchard and asked if there would be cherries left the following week when I return. “Should be.”

So today I pray for cherries to hold out just a few more days for me. I can’t bear calling the orchard until tomorrow to check the tree status. But when I left last week, D was very encouraging: “Just think, next time you’re up there will be blueberries.” I head back up tomorrow and the best part– not only are blueberries and raspberries ripe, I’ve already mapped out the pick-your-own peach orchards for the return drive!

*I also spent the day at the farm that supplies my CSA with grass-fed beef and free-range pork. They had currant bushes ready for picking but a downpour and hornets nest (conveniently tucked into the branches) kept us from picking too many.

This sauerkraut receives its fuchsia-hue from beets.

Note: This post also appears on Sustainable Table’s Adventures in Fermentation.

Confession: When I was younger I hated sauerkraut. Most people will read that and think, Well, no bother. Just don’t eat the stuff. It’s not like one is presented with it often!

But, being that I am half-Latvian, sauerkraut was presented to me more often than most people would consider normal. Perhaps normal for you would be that one year at a family picnic when your eclectic Aunt Betty, having just returned from Germany, wanted to share the joys of sauerkraut along with a rousing schuhplattling. Or perhaps it was on a vacation 3 years back and it appeared mysteriously, slathered on a hot dog.

But, as I said, being half-Latvian, sauerkraut was seemingly everywhere. Forget the odd family picnic or bizarre vacation hot dog. On our regular journeys into the depths of Chicago’s Latvian neighborhood we would find my grandmother at home, stirring a large batch of sauerkraut. (Think stock pot size– enough for everyone to take home!) At the yearly Latvian block party, buckets of sauerkraut from every family on the block would be on the offering– right there, next to the jelly bean guess-the-quantity competition (which, thank you, I won one year). You know block parties, one little nibble from your own grandmother isn’t enough, you have to look good in front of the neighbors. During cold Chicago winters, my own mother would raise the stock pot and pour in the ‘kraut. Eventually, the operation was moved to a portable burner in the garage so the smell wouldn’t saturate the house during the 4+ hour cook time– and of course, so we could have sauerkraut more often.As a child I thought sauerkraut was, well, sour. It was also funny looking. And it smelled weird.

I’m not talking about the sauerkraut that is served cold with sausage on the side (though ours was most often served with kielbasa on the side). My family’s Latvian sauerkraut is slow-braised for hours until it reaches caramelization. It sits there on the plate, a deep amber mass, fit for a rustic Baltic meal: a side of meat with mustard and dark Latvian rye bread.

As a child I recall my polite no thank you’s when it was being served, but was always met with the parental, “Okay, just a little then.” So there it sat on my plate being pushed around and spread out to appear if at least not enjoyed, partially consumed.

But years pass and tastes change and that sourness now seems more sweet.

My grandmother, uncles and mother still make a stock pot full of sauerkraut, and sometimes I even find myself behind the stove on a cold New York City night taking out the stock pot.

But the start to sauerkraut, whether it’s slow cooked, or uncooked and cold, begins with fermentation.

As one can imagine, northern Europe plays host to some frigid winters. (If you cannot imagine, I spent an August in Latvia, their warmest month, and wore a sweatshirt the whole time there. Of course, families were basking in Speedos on the beach, but to each their own.) Cabbage was, and still is, a mainstay of the cuisine. It grows well in cool climates and once fermented, it has a long shelf life, feeding a family through a brutal winter. A little salt and a crock pot is all it takes and in a few days natural bacterias in the air take over for a lacto-fermentation (ending as lactic acid converts sugars to acid).

Once fermented, kept raw, sauerkraut is very high in vitamin C. In fact, it is sauerkraut, and other fermented foods, that cured early explorers of scurvy (not barrels of oranges)*. Further, all those sugars, converted to acids, lowers the pH and is good for digestion. And some believe that fermented foods keep them healthy and can fight against disease and illness from the avian flu to ulcers and cancer to hangovers. (A hangover cure might also explain why my Latvian family can drink like a fish through the night and wake up raring to go.)

It should be noted that all these benefits occur when the sauerkraut is eaten raw, uncooked. If you want the same beneficial bacteria to play in your stomach and don’t want to make it yourself, seek out raw sauerkraut on the store shelves. Most of the sauerkraut you find in bags has been quick fermented with vinegar and will not have the same positive results.

Should you want to make it yourself, it’s easy and a fun experiment for any kitchen! You can add a plethora of vegetables to the mix. In my batch, pictured above, I have cabbage, beets, carrots and kohlrabi. You can even add hot pepper flakes for a kimchi-like variation.

NOTE: Never use aluminum as your fermentation vessel, or aluminum tools to stir or taste. A ceramic crock or large glass 1 to 5 gallon containers are ideal. Clean everything well so only good bacteria have an opportunity to multiply (a run through a dishwasher or hand washed with hot water and soap is fine).

Sauerkraut
Serving size= about 6. Active time= 20 minutes. Inactive time=1 to 3 weeks, depending on temperature (hot temperatures speed up fermentation)
2 medium to large heads cabbage (red or green), about 5 lbs
3 carrots
1/4 cup Kosher salt
4 cloves garlic, peeled
2 teaspoons caraway seeds (optional)

Shred the cabbage and carrots using a food processor (or finely by hand), as you would for coleslaw. Set in a bowl and toss with salt, garlic and caraway seeds. Transfer to your fermentation vessel (see note above). Using your fist, pack the vegetables firmly into the bottom of your vessel to release as many air bubbles as possible. (This is where a glass vessel is nice because you can see your progress.) Juice should escape from the cabbage and just cover the vegetables. If not, add a little water and a bit of salt until vegetables are just covered. (The older your cabbage, the less juice it will have!) Place a weight inside your container, keeping as much of the cabbage underneath as possible. A ceramic plate or food-grade plastic bag filled with some salt water (in case the bag breaks) work well. Cover the fermentation vessel with a kitchen towel or a few layers of cheesecloth and secure. Set aside on counter.

After 2 to 3 days, taste the cabbage, fermentation will have begun! Continue to taste until it reaches a tartness you like, 1 to 3 weeks, depending on the temperature in the room. After day 3, you might notice a film developing on the top of the brine. Skim it off every day or two, but don’t wait more than 2 days. Once the vegetables have reached a flavor you like, transfer to the refrigerator. It will keep for many months.

If you are going out of town after your fermentation has begun but is not finished, just transfer your container to the fridge and replace it to your counter when you return. Cold temperatures slow fermentation. Never eat fermented foods that taste “meaty” or smell off– your nose is powerful, trust it! This is a sign the wrong bacteria have taken over (rare, but it can happen). Fermented foods should smell tangy, tart and fresh.

Other additions include curry, turmeric, hot pepper flakes, dill, onions, turnips, kohlrabi, radish or other vegetables and seasonings in your sauerkraut!

*Or is is barrels of limes?! Perhaps a combination of both– or it depends where those sailors came from!

Good pizza is sooooo good.

I say this having come from pizza-centric people: the good people of Chicago. The Chicago-style pizza boasts a deep dish knife-and-fork-required slice oozing with cheese and a 1/2-inch thick crust. So dense and heavy it’s difficult to eat more than one slice, two is pushing a limit. Baked in a cast iron pan in a hot oven. A recent visit took me to the Art of Pizza (no website). I still think about that pizza today– so good I actually ate 2.5 slices and had to be rolled out. I cannot describe- or remember, what was best– the crust, the cheese or the sauce. My friends tell me Chicagoans are now pushing a thin crust pizza and dare I say it, but Chicago, don’t be crazy! Stick to the love of the dish!

I am blessed to now live amongst another pizza-centric people: the good people of New York City. A thin, often foldable crust slice. The better ones emerge from a piping hot coal oven slightly blackened on the edges. Easy to eat on-the-go as the NYC lifestyle demands. I like taking people to Grimaldi’s in Brooklyn, licking the plate clean, and walking the pie off over the Brooklyn Bridge. The pies can be as fancy as you like and you can mix and match toppings. But really, unless I end up in a national chain I’ve never had a horrible NY slice (I can’t always say the same for deep dish).

(But seriously, what are those chains putting in there?!)

Both cities are proud of their pizza and I am proud to have lived in both pizza-meccas. Sometimes California, with their “aternative” pizzas surface, but that’s hogwash! Sushi pizza? Pineapple pizza? Nay! But in this whole debate, dare I suggest I make a mean pie that competes with the best of them? (And for the record let’s just say no one beats a true Naples pizza where the great dish originated!)

I have no brick oven and no pizza stone– I make my pizza on a good old sheet pan. The secret, I have learned, is all in the crust (okay, it’s also in the toppings, but really, it starts in the crust). (And I bet if I added a brick or coal oven to the mix, or even a stone I could really be a contender).

Anyone can do it and if you don’t live near a pizza metropolis it is well worth it. Even if you do live near a pizza metropolis try making your own sometime! It cooks in about 15 minutes so once you apply your toppings it’s a super quick meal. You can be as creative or basic as you want and it’s fun for young children to get involved because who doesn’t love pizza?

Growing up, I remember a rare occasion when my brothers and I made our own pizza. As you would think, living amongst pizza-people, my family was more likely to purchase a good pie rather than make one. But when a company introduced a pre-cooked focaccia-looking sponge that rhymes with “Moboli” and they called dough, my family took to making pizza. (Actually, I can only remember purchasing “Moboli” once– perhaps we realized then you don’t mess with crust.

Here is another secret: forget tomato sauce. Really, forget it. I know you see it all the time scooped up and smeared with the back of a spoon, but forget it. Instead, reach for tomato paste. I recommend a 100% paste with no salt, seasonings or preservatives added. A thin layer of paste does wonders (and you can still spread it with the back of a spoon if you desire). The concentrated natural sugars bake in nicely to the dough and even tend to caramelize if exposed just right.

As for the toppings, that’s up to you. If you keep the crust thin, try not to pile them up too heavy. The above pie has tomato paste, anchovies, artichoke hearts, bitter spring greens (mixed from the garden), pesto (frozen from the garden last year) and fresh mozzarella (from the Italian deli around the corner– they make their own!). A few days later the pizza hankering returned and we had a bitter green, fresh chives, pepperoni and mozzarella pie. Before that it was olives and bitter greens. (Notice the bitter green theme? The garden grows crazy.)

To make pizza-making as small a chore as possible the trick is to make a lot of dough. Double or triple the recipe then divide the results into balls, each ball enough for one full pie. Sprinkle with a little flour then wrap in plastic wrap and freeze. If you want pizza, remove the dough about 3 hours before starting your pie. Voila, pizza in under 30 minutes!

If you really cannot make the dough do NOT buy that “Moboli” stuff! Instead, head to your local pizza shop and ask to buy a ball of dough (they usually sell it for $2-3 a ball). If you do this, DO mix in some fresh herbs, and maybe some hot pepper flakes then roll out and continue.

This recipe is vaguely adapted from Peter Reinhart.

Herbed Pizza (Dough)
Makes enough for 3 pies. Prep time= 15 minutes. Inactive time= 2.75 hours. Cook time= 0 minutes.
2-1/4 cups whole wheat flour
2-1/4 cups all-purpose white flour
2 tablespoons herbs (fresh is best, whatever you like: rosemary, thyme, oregano are all good) OR 1 tablespoon dried
2 teaspoons salt
1 teaspoon instant yeast
3 tablespoons olive oil
1-3/4 cups warm water

Use an electric mixer with a dough hook (or knead by hand). Mix flours, herbs, salt and yeast to combine. Add olive oil and water and knead/mix for 8 minutes. Dough should form a ball and no longer stick to the sides of your bowl. Dust with more flour, cover and let sit undisturbed for 2 hours. Punch down and let rise another 45 minutes. Divide the dough into three equal portions, dust with flour and wrap portions you will not be using in plastic wrap and freeze.

Sprinkle a work surface with cornmeal, dust a rolling pin with flour and roll out your dough to desired thickness. I recommend about 1/4 inch. At this point, begin heating your oven between 450-500 F. Transfer dough to a sheet pan and add toppings. Bake 12-15 minutes, until crust (and cheese if applied) are golden.

Tips: if you’re making a pizza with a non-cured meat (like sausage or chicken) make sure to cook the meat first. Same goes for fresh mushrooms, bell peppers or onions! I also like some hot pepper flakes sprinkled on top of the tomato paste.

Recommended toppings to mix and match: Anchovies, olives, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, fresh greens (some people like to cook these first slightly, I like how they crisp up at the edges), prosciutto, lamb sausage, pesto, chicken, chorizo, ramps, garlic slices, fresh herbs, caramelized onions, roasted red pepper, bacon, shrimp, mussels, clams, asparagus, eggplant, etc.

Don’t forget to mix and match the dairy too: yogurt, lebne, mozarella, goat cheese, blue cheese, etc.

As mentioned, once you have the frozen dough, just thaw and continue as usual. It’s fun to have pizza dough on hand “in case of emergency” and friends are amazed when you suggest you whip up a quick pie. You can also use the dough to make focaccia, or even crackers if desired. Just alter the topping and roll out width depending on what you make!

There is nothing like a good fishermen stew to wipe the gray days from our April galoshes. Nothing like a French fishermen stew to make us feel properly elegant. And nothing like a big ol’ pot simmering away to offer plenty of leftovers for the week to come (or freeze for the next rainy day).

Bouillabaisse (pronounced boo-ya-base), not only fun to say, is a delicious alternative to your basic fish soup. Even better, it is far healthier than its cream-based cousin, Chowder.

This fish stew comes to our shores via France as a way for fishermen to use up unsold leftovers from their catch. It comes to our plate today because I canned 25 quart jars of tomatoes and when I brainstormed uses for them beyond pasta, this was a dish listed (just after tomato ice cream).

What I love most about this dish, other than using up 2 jars of tomatoes, is the use of fennel. Woe is the lowly fennel bulb in the US marketplace that receives little attention. While I use fennel, and to a greater extent anise (fennel seeds) in dishes– most notable citrus-based salads, I loved the idea of adding it to a soup base. Fish is the perfect compliment to this tangy licorice-laced vegetable. (I used anise in my Bouillabaisse, noting it in the recipe, because it was what was on hand.) But thoughts of fennel have me dreaming of a spring fennel-potato cream soup. Thankfully, fennel seeds were planted last week in the garden.

I bulk of flavor of my stock comes from a cod head I purchased at my local fish monger. It’s flavor is far more subtle than fattier, stronger flavored fishes, like salmon, and provides a rich base to build on. After that, the remaining fish is a matter of preference and price. While there are Bouillabaisse purists who claim only certain seafood is allowed in a Bouillabaisse, I recommend a combination of favorite shellfish and fish that can hold up in a stock: clam, mussels, calamari, shrimp, cod and monkfish.

Another ingredient of Bouillabaisse is saffron. While I love the subtle sweet woodsy flavor of saffron, I believe the true winner in this dish is the fish. Saffron is expensive and I recommend forgoing this ingredient if you don’t have it around.

An interesting factoid to keep in mind once you get to adding the fish: Bouillabaisse is a combination of two French words bolhir, to boil, and abaissar, to simmer. So named because you add your first fish when the stock boils. Once added, the temperature drop, reducing the stock to a simmer. Return to a boil, add the next fish, again the stock is reduced to a simmer, and so forth. With each return to boil you can be assured that your fish is cooking through, without overdoing it– as long as you begin your bolhir with your fish that will cook from longest to shortest (approximately).

Bouillabaisse
Serving Size= 8. Prep Time= 20 minutes. Cook Time= 45 minutes.
12 clams
1 pound mussels
1 pound monkfish (with bone)
1/2 cup olive oil
2 onions, sliced thinly
1 4-inch length of orange peel
8 cloves garlic, crushed
1 tablespoon anise seeds (or 1 fennel bulb, sliced thinly)
1 cod head
4 generous pinches saffron
1 tablespoon dried herbs (thyme, rosemary, basil, marjoram would work)
2 quarts whole canned tomatoes, loosely chopped
1 pound cod, cut into 2-inch cubes
1 pound shrimp
1/2 pound calamari
salt/pepper to taste
1 bunch fresh parsley, chopped,  for garnish

Clean beards from mussels, set aside. Cover clams with room temperature salted water in a bowl, set aside. Remove monkfish from bone. Cut meat into 2-inch pieces, set bone aside.

Warm the olive oil in a large stock pot. Add onions and orange peel, saute 3 minutes. Add garlic and anise, stir 2 minutes. Add 2 quarts of water, monkfish bone and fish head. Bring to a boil then reduce heat and simmer 15 minutes. Remove bone and head. Stir in saffron until dissolved. Add dried herbs and tomatoes, return to a boil. Add clams. Return to a boil and stir to encourage opening. Add mussels. Return to a boil and stir to encourage opening. Continue to add shellfish and fish one at a time, returning the pot to a boil before each new addition. Stir the pot after each addition to encourage shellfish to open. Once calamari is added, cook just 2 to 3 minutes longer, remove from heat then salt and pepper to taste.

To serve, strain shellfish and fish into a large serving bowl or platter, sprinkle with half the parsley. Serve broth in bowls garnished with parsley. (Keeping these separate makes reheating easy– just reheat broth and once boiling, pour over fish and shellfish instead of recooking, eventually overcooking, fish and shellfish!) Bouillabaisse is often served with good crusty bread spread with a saffron mayonnaise and boiled potatoes.

At twenty-six years old, my grandmother ran from her country under the protection of the night’s sky. She ran with four children under the age of seven, her husband, and a lifetime of recipes tucked away in her mind. That night they left behind their friends, livestock, farm, language, family, country and way of life, in an attempt to gain freedom. It was a process that would take five years in a refugee camp before being adopted into the United States. A process where they would not be able to return to their homeland or speak with relatives for forty years.

During her life in Latvia, well before women held jobs out of the house, my grandmother was head chef at an all-girls boarding school—those lucky girls. There, she cooked up piradzini (soft, doughy crescent-shaped rolls stuffed with bacon or mushrooms), kotlettes (ground meat patties), and my family’s all-time favorite nac rita atkal.

Nac rita atkal translates as “come back tomorrow.” “In the old days,” my grandmother, now ninety-two, will say in her still broken English, “parties lasted days, with friends sleeping between dancing and eating, close to the fire.” One has to imagine, in a country that can get so cold, where winter nights go on for days, a party that lasts until the one hour of sun-up isn’t a party, it’s a way of life. Snow is not a wispy blanket, but coats the ground in a waist-high thicket. “At those parties,” my grandmother still remembers wistfully, we made nac rita atkal.

My brothers and I know them simply as Latvian Pancakes. They are beyond a treat in my house. They are so good, that even in the six years of my noble vegetarianism, my grandmother knew to make me a veggie version of the savory snack to keep the household peace.

This is a recipe that must always be secretly doubled. One batch goes onto the table for immediate consumption (if it can make it to the table), while the other gets whisked away quickly and quietly, carefully hidden in an odorless, opaque, non-conspicuous container on the other side of the house until everyone is good and stuffed. Even then, it’s whereabouts and contents must be kept unknown except to the privileged few.

To this day, Latvian Pancakes are the one food my brothers and I still fight over to take home frozen. I ration mine down to the week, knowing precisely how many I can eat to keep my addiction at stasis before the next batch will grace my plate.

Unfortunately, it is impossible to write any of my grandmother’s recipes down. They are stored neatly in her brain, now getting a bit foggy, so my uncle has taken to video taping her kitchen movements. She moves quickly. Too fast to measure anything beyond how many eggs are used– which also varies depending on her mood, the outside temperature, the position of the sun, and countless other variables. “Grandma, how much flour?” I’ll ask. “This much,” she says thrusting her fist into the flour and tossing a handful into the mixing bowl. She stirs. “So… one cup?” I question. “No, more!” she declares adding more bit by bit until the batter is to her liking.

While I do not have my grandmother’s exact recipe for this pancake, I am able make a butchered version that is pretty good. After all, I have come to realize, it’s my grandmother’s touch and bittersweet memories of her home that make them truly perfect.

The pancakes are minced meat, always leftovers, usually beef, stuffed inside perfectly folded golden crepes. Turkey makes a decent filling, especially useful with Thanksgiving leftovers and roasted vegetables with mushrooms can pass as edible. Traditionally served with sour cream, apple or cranberry sauce, though also excellent plain, I argue there is no finer dish.

Nac Rita Atkal (Come Back Tomorrow or Latvian Pancakes)
About 25 pancakes
Crepe:
1-1/4 cups flour
1/2 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon salt
8 eggs
1 cup whole milk
1/2 cup water
1/4 cup melted butter

In a medium-sized bowl, sift together dry ingredients. Create a moat in the middle, add remaining ingredients. Whisk together, smoothing out lumps. Refrigerate at least 2 hours, ideally 8 hours minimum. Note: If batter gets too thick, thin lightly with water.

Warm a dollop of butter on a 9-inch skillet over medium heat. Ladle in the batter, tipping the pan quickly to spread evenly, paper-thin. Brown one side golden, 2 to 3 minutes, then flip onto a plate. Continue with remaining batter.

Filling:
3-1/2 cups roasted beef (recommended: leftover brisket), roughly chopped
1/2 cup roasted mushrooms, chopped
1/2 cup chicken or beef stock
1/4 cup chopped onions, sautéed golden
1/4 cup sour cream (or 1/2 sour cream 1/2 gravy)
salt, to taste

Working in batches, pulse all ingredients in a food processor until chopped to the consistency of wet ground beef. Add salt if needed.

Working with the crepes golden (cooked) side up, place two heaping tablespoons in the center. Fold the bottom up over the filling, then the top down, then sides, forming a small tight, square pocket. (The uncooked side of the crepe acts like a glue to hold crepes together lightly.) Transfer seam-side down to a plate. Repeat until all crepes are filled.

Return the skillet to medium-high heat, warming a large dollop of butter. Place a layer of stuffed pancakes seam down. Cook 3 minutes until golden, turn and cook another 2-3 minutes. Transfer to a plate, continuing to cook assembled pancakes.

Serve with sour cream, apple and/ or cranberry sauce.

I was going to post another post-summer wrap up when D told me I had to get these babies online– our Election Doughnuts.

We had a quart of raw milk go sour on us the other week so I’ve been attempting to use it up in baking applications. (Whereas raw milk will go sour and is still safe to consume (you can even consume it as a beverage), pasteurized milk goes rancid when it goes bad and should be discarded immediately when an off smell is noticed.)

I scanned baking books for quick recipes that required a lot of buttermilk (replacing it with my sour milk) and no matter how many cups I thought I’d be using up, I could swear this is a bottomless quart. Last week I made a loaf each of jalapeno cornbread and gingerbread, with milk to spare. But, it was a doughnut recipe I had been eyeing since the beginning of my search I was dying to try, but set aside because I didn’t think it used enough of the milk (only 3/4 a cup). This time, I hoped to finish off the milk.

We made this batter last night and fried up a few circular poppers before hitting the pillow, refrigerating the remaining dough (still unable to finish off the sour milk!). When a late afternoon snack was in order, and I rummaged for some cookie cutters that would work on the doughnuts, I pulled out a large square and a small star.

“This is weird,” D commented.

“No, cool.”

“Oh, wait, Election Doughnuts.”

A little more pre-thought and we could have made these rectangular (more flag shaped) with powdered sugar stripes (stencil some stripes)– maybe tomorrow with the last of the dough. As D transfered these out of the lard (that’s right, fried the good ol’ fashion way), I dusted them with powdered sugar and lamented, too bad we’re not having an election party tonight. But that just means more treats for us.

This batter was a bit of an experimentation. I prefer cake doughnuts, over yeasted (cake have a denser consistency), my favorite being the chocolate cake with sugar glaze. D is fond of the apple cider doughnut in fall months– also cake, so obviously a cake doughnut was in order. Step 1, doughnut style, over and easy.

Step 2 was to assemble a chocolate-cider doughnut without using D’s precious apple cider (he has found his new favorite beverage that combines apple cider, rum, brandy, lemon juice and maple syrup– or “all things perfect in fall” so I am not allowed to touch his cider). Instead, we went with semi-sweet chocolate and extra nutmeg for that fall flavor. Chocolate and nutmeg works, and the final doughnut had a hint of chocolate with a lingering nutmeg note. Nice.

Overall, I would have liked a little more rise in these doughnuts, but they were a good first time try. The finished consistency was good, but the chocolate flavoring isn’t there yet. Because I used semi-sweet chocolate, I reduced the sugar by 2 tablespoons. The end result was a doughnut that would make a good plain cake doughnut, but was not sweet enough to reach the chocolate cake or cider doughnut results desired, more sugar needed.

So if there is still time in your state, get out and vote– and eat your doughnut!

Chocolate-Cider Buttermilk Doughnut
Recipe TK