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	<title>Bay Area Bites &#187; Kim Laidlaw</title>
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	<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites</link>
	<description>Culinary Rants &#38; Raves from Bay Area Food Professionals</description>
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		<title>Meyer Lemon Ricotta Pancakes</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/03/05/meyer-lemon-ricotta-pancakes/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/03/05/meyer-lemon-ricotta-pancakes/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 05 Mar 2009 16:38:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[baking and bakeries]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dessert and chocolate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[recipes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[breakfast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[meyer lemon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pancakes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[ricotta]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/?p=2381</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[On Sunday mornings, especially when the weather is rainy and cold and grey, I love to make a decadent breakfast, like brown butter waffles, a full English, or, one of my all-time favorites: delicate, soufflé-like ricotta pancakes.]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/03/lemons.jpg" alt="meyer lemons" width="400" height="300" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2384" /></p>
<p>While they are still plentiful, make everything you can with Meyer lemons. One of my favorite citrus fruits&#8211;hell, one of my favorite fruits&#8211;Meyer lemons are at the top of their game right now, but they won&#8217;t be around forever.</p>
<p>I&#8217;ve been using Meyers steadily throughout the season, just as I&#8217;d use a regular lemon, but it wasn&#8217;t until recently when we were down in L.A. and (finally) had a meal at <a href="http://www.mozza-la.com/pizzeria/about.cfm">Pizzeria Mozza</a> (a la Mario Batali, Nancy Silverton, and Joseph Bastianich), that I because truly inspired. Mozza was heaven with its mouth-watering antipasti and superb Napoli-style pizzas, but that&#8217;s not what this post is about. It was their Meyer Lemon Gelato Pie with Champagne Vinegar Syrup that got me back on the Meyer train.</p>
<p><img src="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/03/mozza_pie.jpg" alt="mozza meyer lemon gelato pie" width="400" height="329" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2385" /></p>
<p>Of course, now that I was in full Meyer lemon mode, immediately upon my return, I made a batch of my much-loved <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2005/01/24/the-ice-cream-chronicles-part-1/">Meyer Lemon Ice Cream</a>. </p>
<p>But that was hardly enough. On Sunday mornings, especially when the weather is rainy and cold and grey, I love to make a decadent breakfast, like brown butter waffles, a full English, or, one of my all-time favorites: delicate, soufflé-like ricotta pancakes. The first time I ate them was at the much beloved neighborhood restaurant, <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/rockridge-cafe-oakland">Rockridge Café</a>, located on College Avenue in Oakland. I was hooked immediately. </p>
<p>So, with a bowlful of Meyer lemons, I decided to make some extra-lemony fluffy ricotta pancakes. You can make these for breakfast but they&#8217;re also perfect for dessert. We had a few extra pancakes so one night I decided to reheat them in a frying pan with a little butter and then served them with a scoop of the aforementioned Meyer lemon ice cream. Heaven.</p>
<p><img src="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/03/pancakes.jpg" alt="meyer lemon ricotta pancakes" width="400" height="300" class="alignnone size-full wp-image-2386" /></p>
<p><strong>Meyer Lemon Ricotta Pancakes</strong></p>
<p><strong>Makes:</strong> About 12 small pancakes</p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
3 eggs, separated<br />
3 tablespoons sugar<br />
1 pinch kosher salt<br />
Finely grated zest of 1 large Meyer lemon<br />
1 cup <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2005/04/02/kitchen-sink-ricotta/">homemade ricotta</a> (store-bought works fine)<br />
1/2 cup flour<br />
Jam and/or maple syrup, for serving</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong><br />
1. In a bowl, whisk together the egg yolks, sugar, salt, lemon zest, ricotta, and flour. </p>
<p>2. In another bowl, using an electric mixer on medium-high speed or a whisk, beat the egg whites to medium-stiff peaks. Gently fold the egg whites into the ricotta mixture.</p>
<p>3. Heat 2 non-stick or well-seasoned frying pans over medium heat. Add a bit of butter to the pans, enough to coat the bottom. </p>
<p>4. Dollop heaping tablespoonfuls of the pancake batter into the pans, leaving a bit of space in between each pancake. You should be able to fit 3 or 4 pancakes into each pan, depending upon how large your pan is.</p>
<p>5. Cook for about 1 minute, until the bottom is golden brown. Carefully flip the pancake to brown the other side, and cook until the pancake is cooked throughout, another minute or so.</p>
<p>6. Serve at once on warm plates with jam or maple syrup.</p>
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		<title>Cheap Eats: Spanish Tortilla</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/02/05/cheap-eats-spanish-tortilla/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/02/05/cheap-eats-spanish-tortilla/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 05 Feb 2009 17:22:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[recipes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[cheap eats]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tortilla]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/02/05/cheap-eats-spanish-tortilla/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[One evening I decided to teach my two American roommates how to make a Spanish tortilla (one of my top egg-and-potato standards, and one of my ultimate comfort foods). If you've never had it, a Spanish tortilla is nothing like a Mexican tortilla, but more like a frittata. Made from only a handful of ingredients--eggs, potatoes, olive oil, and salt--it is not only very cheap to make, but you probably have most of the ingredients in your pantry already. I would consider it the national dish of Spain, and you can find it in various forms throughout the country.
]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/02/tortilla_final.jpg' alt='tortilla' /></p>
<p>During my senior year of college I spent a semester in Spain. I lived in a large <em>piso</em> (a flat) in the heart of Madrid. There were six of us, all women—three American students and three Madrileñas, all from very different backgrounds. My priorities back then were quite different than they are now. I was determined to see as much of Spain as possible in my 5-month stint. But funds were seriously tight, and food became a lower priority than train tickets or a stay in a pension.</p>
<p>But great food can be had in Spain for the price of a beer, and I often found myself eating in bars, even for breakfast (tapas are a great thing, and you quickly learn who serves the yummy stuff). On the few nights that I stayed in, my meals would often revolve around some permutation of eggs and potatoes. Occasionally I would eat a bit of chicken with a squeeze of lemon. And if I got really crazy, I’d sprinkle Parmesan on top—a true luxury.</p>
<p>One evening I decided to teach my two American roommates how to make a Spanish tortilla (one of my top egg-and-potato standards, and one of my ultimate comfort foods). If you’ve never had it, a Spanish tortilla is nothing like a Mexican tortilla, but more like a frittata. Made from only a handful of ingredients—eggs, potatoes, olive oil, and salt—it is not only very cheap to make, but you probably have most of the ingredients in your pantry already. I would consider it the national dish of Spain, and you can find it in various forms throughout the country.</p>
<p>I’d been making tortilla for a while by the time I lived in Madrid, and it had already become a staple in the college-budget repertoire (I first learned to make an authentic tortilla prior to living in Spain from my college roommate Shannon who lived in Madrid for many years). </p>
<p>As I was saying, I decided one night to teach my American roommates how to make tortilla. My Spanish roommates found this hilarious. A young American trying to teach someone to make one of their most cherished dishes! In true Spanish spirit, they decided to make a party out of it. The music came on, the tapas and wine came out and we got to work. All eyes were on me and as I chopped and stirred and sautéed, I knew I was being judged. Finally, the tortilla was ready and the time had come. All was quiet as tortilla was passed around and sampled. The grins and the laughter and the “wows” told me all I needed to know. I’d passed the test.</p>
<p>I love telling that story. And I make tortilla so regularly now that it has become a favorite of many of my friends and family (in fact, my dad counts it as one of his all-time most loved foods). There are so many great things about tortilla: it’s super delicious; it’s made with very few inexpensive ingredients which you probably already have; it can be served hot, warm, room temperature, or cold; and it can be dressed up with a salad for dinner or sliced and served on bread as a sandwich on-the-go. Best of all, it’s the perfect night in: crack open a bottle of Rioja, make a tortilla and a simple green salad, and save some dough.</p>
<p><strong>Spanish Tortilla</strong></p>
<p><strong>Serves:</strong> 4–6</p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
2 lb russet potatoes (about 5 small), preferably organic<br />
2 medium yellow onions<br />
Olive oil<br />
3 large eggs<br />
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong><br />
1. Fill a large bowl half full of cold water. Peel the potatoes. Cut the potatoes in half lengthwise, then slice them crosswise into thin slices (about 1/8 inch thick). Put the potatoes in the water to remove some of the starch and keep them from browning.</p>
<p>2. Halve the onions lengthwise, peel, then slice them about 1/4-inch thick. Put in a large frying pan with lots of olive oil (at least 1/2 cup) and saute over medium heat until starting to wilt. Drain the potatoes, then add them to the frying pan. Cook, stirring, until the potatoes and onions are tender.</p>
<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/02/tortilla_1.jpg' alt='Saute onions in skillet seasoned with olive oil' /></p>
<p>3. Drain the potatoes and onions in a fine-mesh sieve set over a bowl. Reserve the olive oil. In a large mixing bowl, add the eggs and about 1 teaspoon salt and 1/2 teaspoon pepper. Whisk together the eggs, then add the potato mixture and gently toss together to incorporate the egg.</p>
<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/02/tortilla_2.jpg' alt='Drain the potatoes and onions in a fine-mesh sieve set over a bowl' /></p>
<p>4. Over medium heat, warm a frying pan (I usually switch pans at this point and use nonstick; it’s about the only time I’d recommend nonstick, but you will not regret it) and add about 1 tablespoon reserved olive oil, swirl it around, then add the potato mixture. </p>
<p>5. Flatten it out into with the back of a spatula, and use the spatula to keep the tortilla round while it&#8217;s cooking. Cook for about 5 minutes, gently shaking the pan back and forth to keep the tortilla from sticking. </p>
<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/02/tortilla_3.jpg' /></p>
<p>6. Invert a large flat plate over the top of the tortilla and then invert the pan and tortilla onto the plate. Put the pan back over medium heat, add another tablespoon of reserved olive oil, swirl the pan, and slide the tortilla, uncooked side down, into the pan. Use the spatula again to keep the tortilla round.</p>
<p>7. Cook for about another 5 minutes, gently shaking the pan back and forth to keep the tortilla from sticking. Invert a large flat plate over the top of the tortilla and then invert the pan and tortilla onto the plate. Serve!</p>
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		<slash:comments>6</slash:comments>
	
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			<media:title type="html">Saute onions in skillet seasoned with olive oil</media:title>
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		<title>Burns Night 2009</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/01/24/burns-night-2009/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/01/24/burns-night-2009/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 24 Jan 2009 14:55:20 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[cocktails and spirits]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[events]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[holidays and traditions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Burns Night]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[haggis]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Robert Burns]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/01/24/burns-night-2009/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This Sunday marks the 250th anniversary of the birth of Scottish poet Robert Burns, a night beloved in the hearts of the Scots, but relatively unknown to most Americans. For those of you uninitiated in Burns Night, it is a celebration in honor of good ol' Rabbie Burns, and, in true Scottish style, it is bathed in whisky and delicious haggis, neeps, and tatties. ]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/01/burnsnight2.jpg' alt='Robert Burns reading' /></p>
<p>This Sunday marks the 250th anniversary of the birth of Scottish poet Robert Burns, a night beloved in the hearts of the Scots, but relatively unknown to most Americans. For those of you uninitiated in Burns Night, it is a celebration in honor of good ol&#8217; Rabbie Burns, and, in true Scottish style, it is bathed in whisky and delicious haggis, neeps, and tatties. </p>
<p>My Scottish husband and I have made it a quest to educate and initiate our friends into the hallowed Burns Night traditions. Last year, we hosted our <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/01/24/burns-night-and-ode-to-a-haggis/">first Burns Night</a>,  and to our great surprise nearly everyone we invited not only showed up, but embraced the event with open arms, trying on their best Scottish brogue and gobbling up the haggis we’d captured out in the wilds of Dixon, CA. </p>
<p>It goes like this, at least at our house: We steam some haggis&#8211;which is essentially a big stuffed sausage made from sheep offal, spices, and oats; way more delicious than it might sound&#8211;and we make big pots of mashed potatoes (the “tatties”) and smashed rutabagas (the “neeps”). Just before the haggis is brought out and skewered with a large knife, we read Rabbie Burns <a href="http://www.worldburnsclub.com/poems/translations/address_to_a_haggis.htm">Address to a Haggis</a>.  All the while, the whisky is flowing. </p>
<p>Perhaps it doesn’t sound as fun as it actually ends up being, but then again, you might not have a friend like Traci, who takes a few whisky shots and takes over the room with her rolling Rrrrrrrrs and guttural brogue.</p>
<p>This year, being quite a monumental anniversary, we decided to (or actually, our friends demanded that we) host our 2nd Annual Burns Night. Once again, we drove out to Dixon for some house-made haggis. Although I have to say, after the nearly 5-hour journey, I’m apt to make it myself next year. And while the official night is Sunday January 25th, this year we’ll be celebrating ol’ Rabbie Burns 250th anniversary on Saturday, January 24th. So pull out a poem and read it in your best brogue, have a nip of whisky, and take a bite of sausage (or better yet, haggis!), and give a wee toast to a fabulous poet, who will be celebrated the world over, and at our little home away from Scotland house in San Francisco.</p>
<p>If you are itching to participate in Burns Night 2009, the main event here in SF happens at:<br />
<strong>Edinburgh Castle</strong><br />
Saturday January 24 at 8pm, $10 at the door<br />
950 Geary Street, San Francisco, CA<br />
415.885.4074</p>
<p>For those of you out in the Valley, check out:<br />
<strong>Canal Street Grille Robert Burns Night</strong><br />
Saturday, January 24th at 6:30pm<br />
1225 Canal Blvd, Ripon, CA, 95366<br />
209.599.4646</p>
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		<title>Gin Fizz</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/01/08/gin-fizz/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/01/08/gin-fizz/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 08 Jan 2009 17:00:44 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[cocktails and spirits]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[recipes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[gin fizz]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2009/01/08/gin-fizz/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So there we were, at the bar and in need of a cocktail. After a few libations piqued my interest, and I found myself being indecisive, I asked the bartender what he'd suggest. "Oh, definitely the Celeraic, it's really good and interesting." Hrm. But what about the egg white? I'm not so sure of that. Is it slimy? I could just imagine it slithering down my throat. Blech. He assured me it wasn't like that. Based on their reputation, I decided to trust him. Every eye at the bar was on him when he was making my Celeraic, a bit of gin, some lemon, pineapple juice, the suspicious egg white, all topped off and finished with a spritz of bitters...
]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/01/ginfizz.jpg' alt='gin fizz' align='left' />At first the thought completely grossed me out. Raw egg white in a cocktail? Disgusting. But then I started thinking about it. I eat raw eggs. In homemade mayo, garlicky aioli, meringue buttercream&#8230;and I&#8217;ve never had a problem with any of those. I also eat raw fish. Hell, I was scarfing down the sushi last night like no one&#8217;s business.</p>
<p>Over the holidays, when we were in Portland, I was faced with a dilemma involving egg whites in a cocktail. Now, let me set the context here. We arrived in Portland just before Christmas during the Arctic Storm of the Century. &#8220;The Snownami!&#8221; my brother proclaimed. And lest you think I jest, we were all holed up together&#8211;my entire family including 3 very happy snow-romping dogs and 2 very pissed off cats&#8211;at my parent’s small but cozy house for 4 full days, unable to really drive much of anywhere. So by the fourth day, just after Christmas, when we&#8217;d all decided we could probably use a little stretching room, my husband and I whisked ourselves away to the Pearl District for a much-needed date night. After a good hour salivating over the hundreds of cookbooks at <a href="http://www.powells.com/home.html?header=Logo">Powell&#8217;s</a>, we nipped across the street for happy hour at <a href="http://www.ten-01.com/">Ten01</a>, a restaurant I&#8217;d heard made a damn good cocktail.</p>
<p>So there we were, at the bar and in need of a cocktail. After a few libations piqued my interest, and I found myself being indecisive, I asked the bartender what he&#8217;d suggest. &#8220;Oh, definitely the Celeraic, it&#8217;s really good and interesting.&#8221; Hrm. But what about the egg white? I&#8217;m not so sure of that. Is it slimy? I could just imagine it slithering down my throat. Blech. He assured me it wasn&#8217;t like that. Based on their reputation, I decided to trust him. Every eye at the bar was on him when he was making my Celeraic, a bit of gin, some lemon, pineapple juice, the suspicious egg white, all topped off and finished with a spritz of bitters&#8230;</p>
<p>When he handed me the frothy chilled cocktail, served in a big martini glass, I was intrigued. This is not what I expected. It smelled like heaven. Tangy, lemony, herbal, with a big mound of thick froth on top. It was amazing. Incredible. One of the best cocktails I’ve ever had. I was completely sold. </p>
<p>When we returned to the Bay Area, I&#8217;d already made the decision to make another, much more well known, eggy cocktail for our New Orleans–themed New Year’s Eve party: The Ramos Gin Fizz. Now, the Celeraic as it turns out, is a bit of a riff on a Ramos Gin Fizz (a very classic cocktail invented in the 1880s in New Orleans), sharing the gin, of course, as well as the citrus, simple syrup and egg white.</p>
<p>In any case, here are my interpretations of these cocktails, for use when you get tired of going to the gym and dieting and trying to keep up with all those new year&#8217;s resolutions. </p>
<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2009/01/ingredients_ginfizz.jpg' alt='ingredients of gin fizz' /></p>
<p><strong>An Interpretation of the Ten01 Celeraic</strong></p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
2 ounces gin<br />
Juice of 1/2 lemon<br />
1 ounce fresh pineapple juice<br />
1 egg white<br />
A splash of simple syrup<br />
A spritz of celery root bitters (good luck finding these!)</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong><br />
Add all the ingredients except bitters to a shaker, without ice, and shake until your arms want to give out (at least a few minutes). Add ice and continue to shake until you want to cry (or another few minutes). Strain into a cocktail glass and spritz with the bitters.</p>
<p><strong>An Interpretation of the Ramos Gin Fizz</strong></p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
2 ounces gin (use the best-quality you can afford but nothing too strongly flavored, I used Hendrick’s which worked quite well)<br />
Juice of 1/2 lemon<br />
Juice of 1/2 lime<br />
1 ounces simple syrup (depending on how sweet you like it)<br />
1 large egg white<br />
A few drops of orange flower water<br />
A bit of cream (optional)<br />
Soda water</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong><br />
Add all the ingredients to a shaker, without ice, and shake until your arms want to give out (at least a few minutes). Add ice and continue to shake until you want to cry (or another few minutes). Strain into a cocktail glass and top with soda water.</p>
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		<title>The Life &amp; Times of Sourdough Starter</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/25/death-and-re-birth-the-life-times-of-sourdough-starter/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/25/death-and-re-birth-the-life-times-of-sourdough-starter/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 25 Dec 2008 17:45:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[baking and bakeries]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[recipes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[sourdough]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[starter]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[I've finally gone and done it. I killed my sourdough starter. It had a very well-meaning life, and when it was good, it was really superb (in my <strong>pizza dough</strong>). It was strong, at least in it's youth. But the other morning, when I was clearing out the refrigerator in preparation for Christmas, I came across it, pushed into the back of the fridge, forlorn and forgotten. How could I?
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				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/12/starter1.jpg' alt='making sourdough starter' /></p>
<p>I&#8217;ve finally gone and done it. I killed my sourdough starter. It had a very well-meaning life, and when it was good, it was really superb (in my <strong>pizza dough</strong>). It was strong, at least in it’s youth. But the other morning, when I was clearing out the refrigerator in preparation for Christmas, I came across it, pushed into the back of the fridge, forlorn and forgotten. How could I?</p>
<p>Surprisingly, I managed to keep it going for nearly a year&#8211;my longest sourdough stint yet. It started life in Napa; we made it during a photo shoot for a cookbook I was editing, <em>Williams-Sonoma Family Meals</em>. We made a ton, and doled it out to the entire team, each Mason jar lovingly labeled with a hand-written tag courtesy of 9-year-old Ella. I think, with the exception of Maria the author, mine was probably the only one that survived. </p>
<p>But now it&#8217;s gone. And since it is the time of year for new beginnings and new resolutions, and because I’m currently snowed in and housebound with my entire family for Christmas (in the arctic storm of the century in Portland Oregon) and looking for something to keep us busy so we don&#8217;t kill each other, I’m going to make another batch. (If you find yourself in the same situation this holiday, I recommend something similar.) But this year I resolve to keep it alive. And to embark on many more culinary adventures in the year to come. Possibly involving my new starter. But this is only the beginning&#8230;</p>
<p><strong>How To Make A Sourdough Starter</strong><br />
There are as many different ways to make starter as there are names for it (some of my favorite names include mother, chef, biga, and poolish). I’ve seen recipes using grapes, raisins, even rhubarb! Some use water, some use milk or yogurt, and some even use the water that you’ve boiled potatoes in. This one was inspired by Maria&#8217;s and by one I made in culinary school way back when.</p>
<p><strong>Ingredients</strong><br />
2 cups unbleached bread flour<br />
2 cups smushed organic grapes<br />
2 cups warm water</p>
<p><strong>Procedure:</strong></p>
<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/12/starter2.jpg' alt='starter day 1' /><br />
<strong>Day 1:</strong> Mix the flour, grapes, and water together in a glass or ceramic bowl. Put in a warm place to sit, at least overnight. I put it in my oven (with the oven off of course).</p>
<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/12/starter3.jpg' alt='starter day 2' /><br />
<strong>Day 2:</strong> Check the bowl the next day. You want to see bubbles on the surface, which is how you know it’s starting to ferment. It can take a while though (even up to 5 days or so), depending upon the room temperature and the amount of yeast in the air. So be patient!</p>
<p>Once your starter is bubbly, add 2/3 cup warm water and stir until combined. Strain out the grapes through a large mesh sieve. Discard the grapes and feed the starter with 1/2 cup bread flour, stirring to combine. Again, place the starter in a warm place to continue fermenting.</p>
<p><strong>Day 3:</strong> Feeding time! Stir and feed your starter again with another 1/2 cup bread flour and 1/2 cup warm water. Let it hang out for another day.</p>
<p><strong>Day 4:</strong> It&#8217;s party time! Your starter should be ready to use in whatever recipe you might have that calls for sourdough starter. You can store it in the refrigerator in quart-sized Mason jars, just make sure you punch a hole into the top so it doesn’t explode.</p>
<p><strong>The care and feeding of your starter</strong><br />
Your starter should be fine if you keep it in the fridge and feed it once a week, with 1/4 cup bread flour and 1/4 cup warm water. If it grows too big though, you either need to start making some bread or give it as a gift to your friends and family! Or just throw it away, but really that’s wasteful, so why not just make some bread. Or waffles, scones, biscuits, pancakes, pizza, whatever you can come up with&#8230;</p>
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		<title>Roasted Butternut Squash Lasagna</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/11/roasted-butternut-lasagna/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/11/roasted-butternut-lasagna/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Dec 2008 17:53:52 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[recipes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[butternut squash]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lasagna]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/11/roasted-butternut-lasagna/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My brother planted way too much butternut squash this year. He has so much butternut squash that he doesn't know what to do with all of it. He has so much butternut squash that he laid down the law that it must play a starring role in our annual over-the-top, overly decadent, planned-for-months-in-advance, <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2005/12/30/a-christmas-foodfest-in-portland/">Christmas feast</a>. 

So, being the <em>loving</em> and <em>caring</em> sister that I am, I've been on a quest for lip-smacking, mouth-watering, not-your-run-of-the-mill recipes that contain butternut squash. Beyond the obvious (yet delicious) array of butternut squash soups and pureed or roasted butternut side dishes, I've discovered butternut gnocchi, a world of curries containing the squash (particularly Thai red beef curry or green pork curry, and an amazing Indian curry with chickpeas), roasted squash salads both warm and cold, and an array of pasta dishes. One of my favorite pasta discoveries was a lasagna recipe by Jamie Oliver, which in turn, inspired this recipe.
]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/12/buttnut1.jpg' alt='butternut squash' align='left' />My brother planted way too much butternut squash this year. He has so much butternut squash that he doesn&#8217;t know what to do with all of it. He has so much butternut squash that he laid down the law that it must play a starring role in our annual over-the-top, overly decadent, planned-for-months-in-advance, <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2005/12/30/a-christmas-foodfest-in-portland/">Christmas feast</a>. </p>
<p>So, being the <em>loving</em> and <em>caring</em> sister that I am, I&#8217;ve been on a quest for lip-smacking, mouth-watering, not-your-run-of-the-mill recipes that contain butternut squash. Beyond the obvious (yet delicious) array of butternut squash soups and pureed or roasted butternut side dishes, I&#8217;ve discovered butternut gnocchi, a world of curries containing the squash (particularly Thai red beef curry or green pork curry, and an amazing Indian curry with chickpeas), roasted squash salads both warm and cold, and an array of pasta dishes. One of my favorite pasta discoveries was a lasagna recipe by Jamie Oliver, which in turn, inspired this recipe.</p>
<p>I have to say, this is one of the most luscious lasagnas that I’ve ever eaten. It made me swoon. I&#8217;d even say it&#8217;s up there with the <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2007/12/06/hunter-gatherer-chanterelles-in-big-sur/">Most Amazing Decadent Mushroom Lasagna</a>  and the completely-from-scratch Lasagne Bolognese that my family makes annually for Christmas Eve. Hell, who knows, maybe this one will take center stage this year. If nothing else, it would most certainly make a great crowd pleaser for a holiday dinner party.</p>
<p>Oh, and thanks brother! For giving me a reason to try new and different things with a tried-and-true ingredient that might have been easily overlooked and one that was certainly stuck in a boring rut, at least in my cooking repertoire. </p>
<p><strong>Roasted Butternut Lasagna</strong></p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong></p>
<p><strong>For the meat sauce:</strong><br />
2 thick slices applewood-smoked bacon, finely diced<br />
1 yellow onion, finely diced<br />
2 carrots, peeled and finely diced<br />
1 lb ground pork shoulder<br />
1 lb ground beef<br />
1/2 cup milk<br />
1 28oz + 1 14 oz can crushed tomatoes (6 in 1)<br />
About 10 cremini mushrooms, chopped<br />
2 cups red wine<br />
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper<br />
2 teaspoons dried oregano</p>
<p><strong>For the roasted butternut:</strong><br />
1 medium butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and cut into 1/2-inch thick slices<br />
1 teaspoon ground coriander<br />
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes<br />
Olive oil<br />
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper</p>
<p>1/2 cup finely shredded Parmesan, plus more for sprinkling on top<br />
1 cup crème fraiche<br />
1 lb fresh mozzarella, thinly sliced<br />
6 sheets no-boil lasagna noodles</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong></p>
<p>1. To make the meat sauce, in a large Dutch oven, sauté the bacon over medium heat until crisp. Remove with a slotted spoon to paper towels. Add the onion, and sauté over medium-high heat until they start to brown, about 5 minutes. Add the carrot and sauté just until tender. Add the pork and beef, reduce the heat to low and sauté the meat just until it loses it’s pink color. Season with plenty of salt and pepper, then stir in the milk. Simmer gently until most of the milk is absorbed, about 15 minutes. Add the tomatoes, mushrooms, red wine, and oregano. Partially cover the pot and simmer over very low heat for about 1 1/2 to 2 hours or until thickened and delicious.</p>
<p>2. Meanwhile, roast the squash. Preheat the oven to 400F. On a rimmed baking sheet, toss the butternut with the coriander, pepper flakes, a drizzle of olive oil, and salt and pepper to taste. Roast the squash, turning occasionally, until tender and browned, about 40 minutes. Chop the butternut squash into bite-sized pieces. (You might want to make double the recipe of the butternut squash, this is SO amazingly good.)</p>
<p>3. To put the lasagna together, decrease the oven temperature to 375F. In a small bowl stir together the Parmesan and crème fraiche. Lightly oil a square baking pan (about 10x10x3 inches). Spread a big spoonful of meat sauce over the bottom of the pan. Put a layer of lasagna noodles (2), then a layer of meat sauce, half of the butternut squash, 1/3 of the crème fraiche, 1/3 of the mozzarella, a thin layer of meat sauce, and then another layer of lasagna noodles. Repeat: a layer of meat sauce, the remaining butternut squash, 1/2 of the remaining crème fraiche, 1/2 of the remaining mozzarella, a thin layer of meat sauce, and then a final layer of lasagna noodles. Top with a thin layer of meat sauce, the remaining crème fraiche, and the remaining mozzarella. Sprinkle with extra Parmesan and put in the oven. </p>
<p>4. Bake until bubbly and the pasta is tender, about 45 minutes. If the cheese starts to brown too quickly, cover with foil. If the lasagna bubbles over, put a baking sheet underneath. Let the lasagna sit for at least 10 minutes before serving. Dig in!</p>
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		<title>Homemade Dog Food</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/06/dog-food/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/06/dog-food/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 06 Dec 2008 14:17:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[pet food]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dog food]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/12/06/dog-food/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My dog Luna eats better than I do. It's not to say that I don't eat well, but she eats <a href="http://www.superfoodsrx.com/superfoods/">Superfood</a>. 

Once upon a time, not very long ago, she ate high-quality kibble. She hated it. Mealtime was spent coaxing, pleading, and trying any means necessary to get her to eat. It was a battle of wills, a struggle of stubbornness, and she usually won. Winning meant a scoop of cottage cheese or a bit of chicken mixed into her kibble. She's really not a stupid dog, and knew if she held out, we'd eventually give in. Even so, she'd still poke around and begrudgingly eat it. 
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				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/12/luna-beach.jpg' alt='luna at the beach' align='center' /></p>
<p>My dog Luna eats better than I do. It&#8217;s not to say that I don’t eat well, but she eats <a href="http://www.superfoodsrx.com/superfoods/">Superfood</a>. </p>
<p>Once upon a time, not very long ago, she ate high-quality kibble. She hated it. Mealtime was spent coaxing, pleading, and trying any means necessary to get her to eat. It was a battle of wills, a struggle of stubbornness, and she usually won. Winning meant a scoop of cottage cheese or a bit of chicken mixed into her kibble. She&#8217;s really not a stupid dog, and knew if she held out, we&#8217;d eventually give in. Even so, she&#8217;d still poke around and begrudgingly eat it. </p>
<p>Then, earlier this year my other dog was diagnosed with cancer. We tried just about everything we could to cure him and make him comfortable and happy. And one of the best things we did was to take him to see a holistic vet, who suggested that we put him on a natural, homemade diet (he had a lot of intestinal issues). </p>
<p>Well, naturally we put both dogs on the diet. They both immediately loved it. It didn&#8217;t save his life, but it certainly made him damn happy for the rest of it. And Luna embraced it. Wholeheartedly. She went from a dog that practically refused to eat, to one that asks to be fed. She can&#8217;t wait for me to set the bowl on the floor.</p>
<p>It took some time, research, and effort to come up with a recipe that we felt would give her all the nutrients she needs. And we are still experimenting, learning what she can and can&#8217;t eat, what she loves, and what she will tolerate or pick through to get to the good stuff.</p>
<p>It&#8217;s not for every dog. And it requires getting out the pots and pans twice a week (or less if you make an even bigger batch of food and freeze it). But, she&#8217;s healthier (she no longer farts us out of the room) and much much happier for it.  </p>
<p>If you do decide to try it, and your dog has been eating commercial kibble for a while, you should ease him or her into it by mixing the kibble into the homemade food. Try to use the best quality ingredients you can find, although I admit, this is not the cheap way to feed your pet. But when my holistic vet pointed out that eating kibble would be like us eating dry saltines for the rest of our lives (albeit very healthy saltines), the inner foodie in me was horrified. Why doesn&#8217;t my dog deserve to eat delicious food?</p>
<p><strong>Luna&#8217;s Superfood </strong><br />
This makes enough to feed my 70-lb dog for about 4 to 5 days; you&#8217;ll have to figure out how much to feed your own dog based upon their weight, age, and activity level</p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
1 cup steel cut oats<br />
1 small bunch kale, finely chopped<br />
3 lbs chicken or turkey breast<br />
3–4 medium yams and/or sweet potatoes, unpeeled, cut into bite-sized pieces<br />
1/4 cup olive oil</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong><br />
1) Add the oats plus 4 cups water to a large saucepan and set aside to soak for a few hours or up to overnight. Add the kale to the oats and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Stir often, and cook until the oats and kale are tender, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a large mixing bowl to cool.</p>
<p>2) Meanwhile, in a large stockpot, add the chicken or turkey and enough water to just cover. Cover the pot and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low and simmer just until the meat is cooked through, about 20 minutes. Using tongs, remove the meat to a cutting board to cool. Leave the water in the stockpot.</p>
<p>3) Add the chopped yams to the water in the stockpot, and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium and cook until tender, about 15 minutes. Drain and add to the mixing bowl with the oats.</p>
<p>4) When the chicken is cool enough to handle, chop it very finely and add it to the oat and yam mixture. Add the olive oil and stir everything together thoroughly. Let cool then store in airtight containers in the refrigerator for up to 5 days. If you want to store the food longer, freeze it for up to 1 month. Make sure to thaw it completely in the refrigerator before serving it up to your pooch.</p>
<p><strong>Note:</strong> If you don&#8217;t have the time to make food yourself, <a href="http://www.jeffreysnaturalpetfood.com/food.html">Jeffrey&#8217;s Natural Pet Food</a> in San Francisco makes delicious all-natural food. They also have a great feeding guidelines chart to help you figure out how much to feed your dog based on weight. </p>
<p>In order to make sure Luna gets all her nutrients, vitamins, and minerals, I often make this healthy powder, which you can find in <a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/157954973X/kqedorg-20">Dr. Pitcairn&#8217;s book</a>, an excellent resource for feeding your pet naturally.</p>
<p><strong>Dr. Pitcairn&#8217;s Healthy Powder</strong><br />
2 cups nutritional yeast<br />
1 cup lecithin granules<br />
1/4 cup kelp powder<br />
1/4 cup bone meal (or 9.000 milligrams calcium or 5 teaspoons eggshell powder)<br />
1,000 milligrams vitamin C (ground) or 1/4 teaspoon sodium ascorbate</p>
<p>Stir together ingredients and store in an airtight container. Stir a few teaspoons into the food each day.</p>
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		<title>How to Survive a Thanksgiving Disaster</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/11/27/happy-thanksgiving-and-what-to-do-if-it-all-goes-horribly-wrong/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/11/27/happy-thanksgiving-and-what-to-do-if-it-all-goes-horribly-wrong/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 27 Nov 2008 14:17:18 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[holidays and traditions]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[thanksgiving]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/11/27/happy-thanksgiving-and-what-to-do-if-it-all-goes-horribly-wrong/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[So by now, you've gone shopping, gathered your wares, and hopefully if you are reading this, you are well along in the cooking process (if not, get off the computer and get busy!). But what do you do if it all goes horribly wrong...?

Ok, I'm not trying to be doom and gloom here. And I'm not talking about familial relations, you are on your own there. But in the food and feast arena, it is nice to be armed with a few helpful hints when you are juggling a minimum of six different dishes in the kitchen. Something is bound to not be perfect. So what do you do?
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				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/11/thanksgiving-turkeyflame.jpg' alt='burning turkey' align='left' />So by now, you&#8217;ve gone shopping, gathered your wares, and hopefully if you are reading this, you are well along in the cooking process (if not, get off the computer and get busy!). But what do you do if it all goes horribly wrong&#8230;?</p>
<p>Ok, I’m not trying to be doom and gloom here. And I&#8217;m not talking about familial relations, you are on your own there. But in the food and feast arena, it is nice to be armed with a few helpful hints when you are juggling a minimum of six different dishes in the kitchen. Something is bound to not be perfect. So what do you do?</p>
<p>First of all, relax. There is a solution to every problem. Take a deep breath, a big swig of wine, and read on&#8230;</p>
<p><strong>I burnt the turkey!</strong><br />
If you are left with an overcooked, dry turkey (which you probably won’t realize until it’s nearly too late) there’s not a whole lot you can do except try to mask it with moisture. My solution: Make gravy! Or at least more gravy than what you put out on the table. </p>
<p>First of all, if you’ve burnt the skin, no worries, just pull it off and discard it. Carve the turkey as you normally would and slice the meat into serving pieces. Put it in a large sauté pan. Thin about 3 cups of gravy with chicken stock and pour it over the meat. It should be enough to coat and barely cover the meat, but if not, add more. Simmer gently over low heat and serve it out of the pan.</p>
<p>Next year, consider brining your turkey to keep it moist and succulent. And set a kitchen timer.</p>
<p><strong>My turkey is raw!</strong><br />
First of all, if you have a meat thermometer, use it! Before you take that turkey out of the oven. Stick it in the meaty part of the thigh, not touching the bone. It should be 165F to be fully cooked. </p>
<p>If you don&#8217;t have a thermometer, and you&#8217;ve already started carving your turkey before realizing that it’s still gobbling, then never fear, you can still finish cooking it. First of all, the dark meat takes longer to cook than the breast, so chances are the breast is cooked perfectly. If not, stick the entire thing back in the oven until the juices from the thigh run clear when pierced with a knife.</p>
<p>If the breast is cooked (after you&#8217;ve carefully checked it with a small incision), and if you&#8217;ve stuffed the turkey, remove the stuffing, and put it in a roasting pan. Carve the legs and thighs from the turkey, and add those to the roasting pan, cover with foil and put it back in the oven for at least 30 minutes to cook through. Meanwhile, you can remove the breasts, carve them, transfer them to the serving platter, and tent with foil while you wait for the legs and stuffing to finish cooking.</p>
<p><strong>My stuffing is all mushy!</strong><br />
I like my stuffing to be crispy on the outside and nice and moist on the inside, but if yours has gone a bit too moist, and hasn’t crisped up nicely, then simply spread it out on a baking sheet and stick it back in the oven (around 400F should do the trick).</p>
<p><strong>I have lumps in my gravy!</strong><br />
It happens to the best of us and more often that you’d expect. The best thing to do is just put it through a fine-mesh sieve, although if you are like me and you use the neck to make a delicious turkey stock base for your gravy and then add the shredded neck meat to the final product, then you’ll lose the meat shreds. But you will still have all the flavor, and none of the icky, floury lumps.</p>
<p><strong>I overcooked the vegetables!</strong><br />
If you’ve overcooked your broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, greens, or peas, just add some chicken broth and a little cream and puree it into a soup. Seriously. No one wants to eat mushy vegetables, but soup on the other hand is delicious. If the soup seems watery, boil a few potatoes and puree those into the soup as well. If you’ve already mashed all your potatoes, then stir in a scoop. Some grated Parmesan adds a bit of flavor too.</p>
<p>For overcooked Brussels sprouts, heat your oven to 450F and spread them out on a baking sheet. Drizzle with a little olive oil and roast them in the oven to brown and crisp and dry out a bit. OR, chop some bacon and fry until crisp, transfer to a paper towel. Add the Brussels sprouts to the pan and fry in the bacon fat over high heat to brown and crisp the edges. Transfer to a serving bowl and toss in the bacon. If that doesn’t work, compost them and start over with something else!</p>
<p><strong>Where are the cranberries!?</strong><br />
As many times as you have been to the store, you are likely to forget something. If you remember in time to call one of your guests before they arrive, have them pick up a bag of fresh cranberries as it’s super easy to make: Put a bag of cranberries, 1 cup of orange juice and 1 cup of granulated sugar into a saucepan and cook over medium heat until the cranberries pop and the mixture thickens, about 10 minutes. Let cool to room temperature and serve. </p>
<p>If that doesn’t work, you can use other fruits to make a tangy side for your turkey. Saute some sliced apples or pears in a little butter, white wine, brown sugar; simmer some frozen cherries with orange juice and sugar to taste; or just pull out a jar of chutney.</p>
<p>Hopefully some of these tips will solve the worst of your problems. And if anyone else out there has new and interesting ways to make the most out of a kitchen disaster please let me know! I hope everyone’s feast turns out amazing, over-the-top, and delicious.</p>
<p>Happy thanksgiving.</p>
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		<title>Rainy Day Pear Pot Pie</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/11/02/rainy-day-potpie/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/11/02/rainy-day-potpie/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 02 Nov 2008 16:44:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[baking and bakeries]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dessert and chocolate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[recipes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pear]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[pot pie]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/11/02/rainy-day-potpie/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[When it's pouring raining, grim and blustery, cold and dark, and frankly dreadful outside, my idea of the perfect day is one where I'm home, warm and happy. The windows are all steamed up, I put on some good music, and I start baking. And cooking. In fact, I'm happiest if I have about 4 different things going at once. 
]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/11/pear_potpie2.jpg' alt='pear potpie' /></p>
<p>When it&#8217;s pouring raining, grim and blustery, cold and dark, and frankly dreadful outside, my idea of the perfect day is one where I&#8217;m home, warm and happy. The windows are all steamed up, I put on some good music, and I start baking. And cooking. In fact, I&#8217;m happiest if I have about 4 different things going at once. </p>
<p>For example, today I have a sourdough sponge—made from my sourdough starter—bubbling away in a warm little spot in the kitchen, just waiting for it’s debut as a big chewy loaf of sourdough bread. On the stove, a <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2001/oct/07/foodanddrink.recipes">gorgeous autumnal pumpkin curry</a> simmering away. Recipe is courtesy of one of my all-time favourites, Nigel Slater. One burner over sits a huge pot of chicken and yams for my dog&#8217;s dinner (and breakfast, and dinner, and etc etc). </p>
<p>But, I’m thinking, what about dessert? I adore making dessert on the weekend. Especially if it means firing up the oven and baking something. Plus it helps warm up the house and keep it all cozy inside. And nothing beats the smell of pastry or cakes or cookies, or really any kind of dough, baking away in the oven.</p>
<p>So in keeping with the autumn theme, and because I have a bag of pears, I’m going for little pear pot pies. It just sounds nice. Seriously, say it out loud. Pear. Pot. Pies. What could be better on a night like this?</p>
<p><strong>Warm Pear Pot Pies</strong></p>
<p><strong>Serves:</strong> 5–8</p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
4 medium pears (I used Comice)<br />
1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar<br />
A big squeeze of fresh lemon juice<br />
About 2 teaspoons flour</p>
<p><strong>For the pastry dough:</strong><br />
1 cup all-purpose flour<br />
1/4 teaspoon kosher or sea salt<br />
1/2 teaspoon sugar<br />
7 tablespoons very cold unsalted butter, cut into cubes<br />
About 1/4 cup very cold water</p>
<p>Vanilla ice cream, for serving</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong></p>
<p>1. To make the dough, in the bowl of a food processor, stir together the flour, salt, and sugar. Sprinkle the butter over the top and process for a few seconds, or just until the butter is slightly broken up into the flour but still in visible pieces. Sprinkle the water over the flour mixture evenly, then process until the mixture just starts to come together. Dump the mixture out of the bowl onto 2 large sheets of plastic wrap. Press the dough together into a mound and then wrap with plastic and press into a flat disk. Refrigerate the dough to chill for 30 minutes or up to 1 day.</p>
<p>2. Preheat the oven to 375F. Place eight 2/3-cup custard cups or five 1-cup ramekins onto a rimmed baking sheet. Peel the pears, remove the core and seeds, and cut into bite-sized chunks. In a mixing bowl, stir together the pears, brown sugar, lemon juice, and flour. Divide the pear mixture equally between the cups or ramekins.</p>
<p>3. Remove the dough from the refrigerator. Remove the plastic wrap and place the dough disk on a lightly floured work surface. Using a rolling pin, roll the dough into a round about 1/8-inch thick. Cut out enough rounds of dough as you have custard cups or ramekins. Make sure to cut them so they are slightly larger than the top of the cup or ramekin. Place the dough round on top and press the edges down to secure. Cut a few vents in top.</p>
<p>4. Bake until the crust is golden and the pear juices are bubbling. Set aside to cool for about 10 minutes, then serve with a scoop of ice cream on top.</p>
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		<title>One Last Tomato Hurrah</title>
		<link>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/10/16/one-last-tomato-hurrah/</link>
		<comments>http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/10/16/one-last-tomato-hurrah/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 16 Oct 2008 17:41:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Kim Laidlaw</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[recipes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[gazpacho]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tomato]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/10/16/one-last-tomato-hurrah/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[This summer I made a vow to get over to the farmers' market—any farmers' market—once a week. For the most part I've managed to do it. And for the past 3 or 4 months I've purchased a bag of fresh ripe tomatoes each week. Ever since they hit the market, I've been obsessed. And now I'm in a downright panic, as they are on their way out. 
]]></description>
				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img src='http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/files/2008/10/gazpacho.jpg' alt='gazpacho' align='left' />This summer I made a vow to get over to the farmers&#8217; market—any farmers&#8217; market—once a week. For the most part I&#8217;ve managed to do it. And for the past 3 or 4 months I&#8217;ve purchased a bag of fresh ripe tomatoes each week. Ever since they hit the market, I&#8217;ve been obsessed. And now I&#8217;m in a downright panic, as they are on their way out. </p>
<p>This week, I had a pile of gorgeous <a href="http://www.ferryplazafarmersmarket.com/markets/farmers/farm_26.php">Ella Bella</a>  tomatoes—my favorite tomato vendor at the SF farmers&#8217; market who just pulled up stakes and moved to Hawaii, wah!—which were threatening to go bad (it&#8217;s been a busy week!). So, as my one last hurrah, and in celebration of the amazingly sweet, delicious tomatoes I had on hand, I came up with this super fresh, super fast, and super easy gazpacho. It&#8217;s a delicious way to bid tomatoes farewell for another year.</p>
<p>There are tons of <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/07/12/cucumber-gazpacho/">versions</a> of <a href="http://blogs.kqed.org/bayareabites/2008/09/14/cold-soup-for-a-hot-hot-day/">gazpacho</a>, a soup that, at its best, lets the flavor of sweet, seasonal tomatoes shine. It is by far one of my favorite soups of all time, simple perfection on a hot summer day (well, at least for us in the Bay Area where it still seems to be summer). This Andalucian-style version is inspired by a recipe from <a href="http://www.wildhoneyrestaurant.co.uk/">Wild Honey restaurant</a> in London.<br clear="all" /><br />
<strong>Last Hurrah Gazpacho</strong></p>
<p><strong>Serves:</strong> 4</p>
<p><strong>Ingredients:</strong><br />
About 5–6 large ripe heirloom tomatoes<br />
1/2 jar roasted piquillo peppers (about 5 peppers or 5 ounces)<br />
1/2 English cucumber, peeled and seeded<br />
1 small garlic clove<br />
2 teaspoons Worcestershire<br />
2 teaspoons rice vinegar<br />
2 teaspoons white balsamic vinegar<br />
1/4 cup good-quality extra-virgin olive oil<br />
Kosher salt<br />
Freshly ground pepper<br />
Hot sauce, such as Melinda&#8217;s habañero sauce</p>
<p><strong>For garnishing:</strong><br />
Cucumber, peeled, seeded and diced<br />
Avocado, peeled, seeded and diced<br />
Olive oil, for drizzling<br />
Croutons or sliced, toasted sourdough baguette</p>
<p><strong>Preparation:</strong><br />
1. Have ready a medium-mesh sieve set over a large bowl. Halve the tomatoes crosswise and squeeze the seeds into the sieve. Cut out the stem, chop the tomatoes and put in a blender. Add the juice from the bowl and discard the seeds.</p>
<p>2. Add the peppers, cucumber, garlic, Worcestershire, vinegars, and oil, and process until smooth. Season to taste with salt, pepper, and hot sauce. Pour the soup through the sieve set over the bowl. Transfer to an airtight container and chill for at least an hour, and up to a day.</p>
<p>3. Garnish with cucumber, avocado, and a drizzle of olive oil. Serve with the croutons scattered over the top or toasted baguette.</p>
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