At Christmastime in Hungary, there are two sweets that are traditionally found in every household. Szaloncukor is one: a chocolate candy most often filled with fondant, marzipan, or jelly (my favorite!) wrapped in white fringy tissue and bright shiny foil, strung with thread, and hung on the tree. The other is beigli, a rolled pastry, filled with either poppy seed or walnut filling (usually both varieties are made at once). My mom used to make beigli every Christmas when my brother and I were kids. She'd pull out a tattered cookbook that she bought with my dad when they were still dating from which she got all her recipes. According to her, it is the perfect recipe (my brother and I, and our bellies, agree!). So, she helped me with this veganized version, referencing her old cookbook and helping me think of the best vegan substitutes to incorporate. I created my own recipe melding her notes, and a few recipes I found online that incorporate the most traditional ingredients (from Chanita Harel's Mom's Recipes and More: Israeli Food Blog and from a recipe from a traditional cookbook called the Innes Mester, posted on the King Arthur Flour community forum by "janiebakes.")

Recipe: Beigli

Ingredients:
For the dough
500 gr flour
200 gr vegan butter, softened (I used Earth Balance)
3 portions of prepared Ener-G Egg Replacer equal to 3 eggs
1 packet dry active yeast
1/3 cup lukewarm vegan milk (I used almond)
1 Tablespoon sugar
2/3 cup vegan sour cream
pinch of salt

Walnut Filling
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups vegan milk (I used almond)
2 1/2 cups ground walnuts (I use a rotary cheese grater, which is what's used in Hungary. It grinds the walnuts leaving them light and fluffy, not gritty like a food processor.)
1 3/4 cups of dry bread crumbs
Zest of 1 lemon
Juice of 1 lemon
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 teaspoon rum
1/2 cup of rum-soaked raisins (optional)
1 tsp cinnamon (optional)

Poppy Seed Filling
1 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups vegan milk (I used almond)
2 1/2 cups ground poppy seeds (You can use a coffee grinder to grind them.)
1 3/4 cups bread crumbs
Zest of 1 lemon
Juice of 1 lemon
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 cup of rum-soaked raisins (optional)
1 tsp cinnamon (optional)

Dough:
1. Dissolve yeast in a mixture of the 1/3 cup lukewarm milk and 1 tablespoon sugar and wait a few minutes until frothy.
2. Combine flour and butter until crumbly. I used my KitchenAid mixer’s flat beater and it worked great.
3. Add the yeast mixture wait a few minutes. Add the egg replacer, sour cream, and salt and combine to a soft dough (add 70-100 gr more flour if needed).
4. Divide the dough into 4 and place in the refrigerator for 30-60 minutes to rest.

Walnut Filling:
1. Combine, in a large bowl, the ground walnut, bread crumbs, lemon zest, lemon juice, vanilla, rum, and raisins and cinnamon if adding.
2. Add the sugar to the milk, bring to the boil, then add to the other ingredients. Mix very well.

Poppy Seed Filling:
1. Combine, in a large bowl, the ground poppy seeds, bread crumbs, lemon zest, lemon juice, vanilla, and raisins and cinnamon if adding.
2. Add the sugar to the milk, bring to the boil, then add to the other ingredients. Mix very well.

Cool both fillings.

Assembling:
1. Preheat oven to 350F.
2. Roll out the dough (each part) to a rectangular shape that's not too thin (1/8”-1/4” thick). Spread the cooled filling over it, leaving about an inch all around the edges. Fold the edges over the filling. This will create a nice finished edge after rolling. Another way to do it is to roll the filling out between sheets of plastic wrap first. It's important to get a fairly even ratio of dough to filling. [I went a little overboard on my fillings as you can see -- but the filling is the best part!]

3. Roll up the dough along the longer side, creating a log. Prick with a fork along the top. Traditionally, at this point, an egg wash is brushed on top. I left mine au naturale, but feel free to add a vegan egg wash.
4. Place on a cookie sheet or large baking dish. Let the rolls rest a couple of minutes, then place in the preheated oven and bake until golden brown for 35-40 minutes.
5. Let cool completely and only slice once you are ready to serve.

Boldog Karácsonyt!

We’re used to buying cardboard boxloads of factory drone candy canes that are uniform, neatly wrapped, shapely, laden with high fructose corn syrup, and positively soulless. But me -- I’m the gal who likes my candy lumpy. If there were an Island of Misfit Toys for food, these “special” little guys would surely be inhabitants (along with Dingle Berries Candy and Hot Pockets, most likely).

Making candy canes is a lot of fun, and the sweat equity can’t be beat. The flavor is clean and super minty (with a little creaminess to it, thanks to the vanilla extract), and the yield is ample enough to allow me to hand them out generously. And despite the number of words in the recipe below, the whole thing took under an hour. There is a knack to it, however, as pulling hard candy can be a tricky mistress. A couple of things to keep in mind, particularly if you’ve never made candy before:

  
•  A candy thermometer is a very, very, very good idea. No reason not to have one, as they are about $15 and they can be used for frying as well. You can buy a cheaper one made of glass, but they’re pretty breakable. I recommend one like this made of metal, with a sturdy clip, and a protector on the bottom to keep the thermometer off the bottom of the pot.

 

• Heat-retardant gloves. These are great to use as oven mitts as well. But if you’re just dabbling and you don’t wish to invest, you can get by with snug mittens covered by disposable gloves (I always have a couple on-hand for kitchen use and home hair dying stolen from my gynecologist’s office), but you will indeed have to endure a little heat.

    

• Be generous with the oil. A light sheen on the pans and on the bench scraper ain’t gonna cut it. Don’t be shy. Speaking of which...

   

• A bench scraper. This is a small wonder in the kitchen, and an inexpensive and easy-to-store must for baking, candy making, pasta making, etc. Two is better, but you can certainly get by with one.

One other thing: despite the candy appeal, I’m sorry to say that this is not a good project for kids. Scalding fluid and fairly quick work don’t mix well with young’uns.

This recipe took a lot of inspiration from this recipe and this video posted by Slashfood.

Let’s candy cane away!

Homemade Candy Cane Recipe

Time: About one hour

Makes: About 16 3-inch candy canes

Ingredients you will need:

3 cups sugar
1 cup corn syrup (Don’t be scared. It’s not HFCS. Totally different thing.)
1/3 cup water
1/2 tsp. cream of tartar
1/8 tsp. kosher salt
Vegetable oil for pans, tools, and gloves
2 tsp. peppermint oil (ideally not extract, but ok to use if that’s all you have)
1 tsp. vanilla extract
Red food coloring -- about 1/3 of one of those tiny bottles (however, next time I make these I will first make my own food coloring. If you get to it before me, let me know how it works!)

Instructions:

1. Preheat the oven to 200 degrees. Oil two large baking sheets, a bench scraper, and kitchen shears or a sharp knife. Lay a piece of parchment paper or a Silpat on the counter where the canes can dry. Move one of the baking sheets to the warm oven.
2. Meanwhile, in a straight-sided deep saucepan off heat, combine the sugar, corn syrup, water, cream of tartar, and salt and stir them together well. Clip a candy thermometer to the side of the pot and move it onto medium-high heat. Without stirring, let the syrup come up to 305 degrees. Using a pastry brush or a paint brush dedicated to culinary use, wash down any stray sugar crystals from the side of the pot. Ready the peppermint oil, food coloring, measuring spoons, and vegetable oil. Glove thyself with either heat-retardant gloves or snug mittens covered with disposable gloves.
3. Once the syrup has reached temperature, pour it out onto the room temperature baking sheet. Drizzle the peppermint oil on top, and using the bench scraper, scrape the hot candy up from the bottom and fold it over onto itself to stir it through. Once it has cooled slightly, mix in the vanilla as well. Note that the peppermint scent in the air will be strong.
4. Continuously scrape up and stir the syrup to cool it until it becomes a pliable dough. Cut the dough in half and move one piece to the baking sheet inside the warm oven. (First, we’ll “pull” the white half of the candy cane. Then we’ll color the red half.)
5. Quickly oil your gloved hands, as it’s now time to pull the candy. Scrape up the candy dough into one piece and, working as quickly and as continuously as you can, pull it out into a rope, double it over onto itself, and twist it together. Pull it, double it, and twist it again. Keep on going this way at a quick clip, and you’ll notice that the candy will start to take on a ribbon-y sheen. This is how the candy will turn white, so keep going until the color is pure. Embrace the upper body workout. Note that anytime the candy becomes too stiff, simply warm it up again in the oven to soften.
6. Don’t let the candy get too hard. When it’s reached a nice white color, place it onto its baking sheet and move it to the warm oven. Re-oil your bench scraper. Take out the second tray of candy dough and pour on the red food coloring -- about a third of one of those tiny bottles for a good rich color. Use your scraper fold the candy onto itself to incorporate the color completely. Note that this side of the candy cane does not need to be pulled. Move both candy cane trays to the oven and let them warm through for about 5 minutes until pliant.
7. Once warm and squishy enough to work with, take both pieces of candy from the oven and roll them into logs as long as the baking sheet. Cut each log into four equal pieces. Hang on to one red piece and one white piece, moving the rest of the candy back into the oven to keep warm.
8. On the countertop, line the red and white logs alongside one another and begin to twist from one end, stretching as you go, making the candy canes as thin or as thick as you like. Use your oiled shears or knife to cut the length of each cane. Shape the hook of the cane, and press down on the ends to taper. Set the canes aside to cool. (Know, of course, that you could also cut into sticks, rounds, or individual peppermint sucking candy). Admire the individual quality of your handiwork.
9. Repeat this process with the remaining 3/4 of the candy, one piece of each color at a time.
10. Allow candy to cool until completely hard; about 15 minutes. Wrap each cane in plastic wrap to keep it from sticking. Store in an airtight jar for several months.

It's that time of year again -- the grills are uncovered, fireworks stands [used to] start popping up near busy intersections, and everyone and their mother is digging through cookbooks in search of Fourth of July recipes. This week, kids will be running around with sparklers while mom and dad solidify plans for their annual Independence Day barbecue.

While grilled goodies are usually at the top of everyone's mind on July 4th, there's still the all-important matter of dessert. It seems like every year, someone makes the traditional sheet cake that looks like the American flag. You know the style: It's huge and white with a square of blueberries for the star portion of the flag, and row upon row of strawberries and frosting dollops to make up the stripes. It's a good cake, one that I've eaten and enjoyed countless times. Yes, I said countless. Which means I'm really, really bored with the same old flag cake, which I've been eating for 30-something years.

This year I decided to shake it up a little. I eschewed the white cake for something richer (chocolate! ganache!). Since it's Independence Day I decided to keep the red, white and blue decorations, but I sat down and thought about the best way to go about using these colors without recreating the hackneyed flag design (to you lovers of the flag cake, really, no offense). After a few days of pondering I decided to create a layer cake for a more interesting look, with half of the fruit on the inside of the cake, peeking out the sides.

I think you'll like the end result: A rich, smokey cake with light, colorful accents of summer fruit and whipped cream. Kids will love the headiness of the chocolate, and adults will appreciate the departure from the norm.

A Tower of Chocolate: The Three-Layer Fourth of July Chocolate Cake
Makes: One really thick 9" cake, which will be cut into three layers servings
Prep time: 60 minutes, including decorating
Cook time: 50 minutes

While making this cake, I decided to go the lazy route and used a 9-inch cake pan that's 3-inches deep. I poured all of the batter into one pan and then sliced it into three thinner layers with a cake leveler. There is also a gluten-free version of this Fourth of July cake.

Ingredients

For cake:

• 2 ounces bittersweet or semisweet chocolate chopped
• 2 ounces unsweetened chocolate, chopped
• 6 tablespoons hot coffee
• 1 cup unsalted butter, at room temperature
• 1 1/2 cup sugar, divided
• 4 large egg yolks
• 2 cups flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1 cup buttermilk, at room temperature
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 4 large egg whites

For decorating:

• 4 cups of whipped cream
• 1 carton fresh strawberries, cleaned, cored, and sliced in half
• 1 handful each of fresh blueberries
• 1 handful each of fresh raspberries
• 1/2 cup chocolate ganache, warmed and ready to pour

Instructions

To bake the cake:
1. Butter single 3-inch deep, 9-inch cake pan, lining the bottom with a round of parchment or wax paper (trust me, this will make your life much easier). Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. Over a double boiler, melt both kinds of chocolates together with the 6 tablespoons of coffee. Stir until smooth, then set aside until the chocolate reaches room temperature.
3. With an electric mixer, beat the butter and 1 1/4 cup of the sugar until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes. While beating, slowly drizzle in the melted chocolate, following with the egg yolks one at a time.
4. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt.
5. Mix half of the sifted dry ingredients into the creamed butter, then add the buttermilk and vanilla. Follow with the rest of the dry ingredients.
6. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until they hold soft peaks. Add the remaining 1/4 cup of sugar and continue beating until stiff peaks form.
7. Fold half of the egg whites into the cake batter to lighten it up a bit, then fold in the rest, stopping just when there's no trace of egg white visible. Do not overbeat or you will flatten the batter.
8. Pour the batter into the prepared cake pan with a parchment round in the bottom. Smooth the top of the batter with your finger and bake for about 50 minutes, until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out clean.
9. Cool cake completely before decorating.

To decorate the cake
Note: If you're going to slice your cake horizontally, I'd recommend putting it in the refrigerator overnight (or at least a few hours) to firm up before slicing. The firmness of the cake will allow for more effective slicing. I highly recommend the use of a cake leveler, though a serrated knife will work in a pinch.

1. Level your cake by removing the rounded top where it rose in the oven. You can either use a long serrated knife or a cake leveler. I use the leveler, because it's a cheap tool that does the job very well, and it's a lot easier to make straight layers by walking the leveler in a sawing motion, instead of making crooked layers with a serrated knife.
2. If you poured all of your batter into a single 9" pan, cut it into three layers of equal thickness.
3. Place your base layer of cake onto a lazy Susan or other turnable decorating surface. Trust me, this will make your life easier.
4. Scoop whipped cream into a pastry bag, and using a large star tip of your choice, pipe a series of swirls around the edge of the cake, with a large swirl in the middle. It should look like this:

   

5. Decorate each dab of whipped cream by adding a piece of fruit into the middle. Do not add any fruit to the large swirl of whipped cream in the middle.
6. Using the pastry bag, add a small dab of whipped cream between each larger swirl. Top each dab with a blueberry. When you're done, it should look something like this:

   

7. If you have three layers, gently place the middle layer of cake on top of the decorated layer, making sure it's straight. Decorate with whipped cream as you did the first layer, so that they look the same.
8. Place final layer of cake on top of decorated layer. Pour 1/2 cup ganache into the center of the cake, and using an icing spatula gently push the ganache to the edges, allowing it to artfully dribble over the sides. NOTE: You don't want a lot of ganache flowing all over the place. You just want a few drips down the side as an accent.
9. Set the cake in the refrigerator for 20 minutes to solidify the ganache.
10. Decorate the top of the cake with more whipped cream and fruit, like you did the other layers. You can be as creative as you want here, so go all out! When you're done, push more fruit into the visible whipped cream between the layers where it needs a little color. You should have something similar to the photo below.
11. This cake should be put in the fridge overnight to tighten up the whipped cream, which may droop and run in hot weather. Refrigerator until about an hour before serving. If it's especially hot that day, leave it in the fridge until just before you cut it.

The holidays are such a busy time that breakfast can seem either too hectic to deal with or like an afterthought. In the hopes of creating a memorable morning meal you could easily be tempted to spend your morning chopping and stirring instead of enjoying your family. Or maybe the allure of that new Wii game is too strong, so you end up blowing off your planned meal and making scrambled eggs and toast instead. So is there a happy medium? After years of plotting and planning my family's morning Christmas feasts, and buying specialty ingredients for them, I think I've found one.

Egg strata is my new standard quick and painless meal for a decadently delicious holiday breakfast. After first making this dish a few years ago, I've made holiday strata a few other times with great results. I love that I can make this dish the night before, so the only thing I have to do on Christmas morning is stick it in the oven. I've also taken to using ingredients I already have. After all, why buy bacon when I have smoked sausage or holiday ham in the fridge? And do I really need grated smoked cheddar if I already have Gouda or Humboldt Fog from appetizers the night before? This means I don't have to shop and plan for yet another holiday meal.

But the best part is that this strata is everything a holiday breakfast should be: mixed with whole milk or half and half, the eggs turn out creamy and pillowy, while the addition of those holiday cheeses plus a little cream cheese or crème fraiche adds a gorgeous richness, sort of like a beautiful bow on an already lovely present.

There is no strict recipe for holiday strata. The rule is to simply use whatever your refrigerator contains that sounds good. So if you have Gouda and smoked sausage, use it. Or if the roasted artichoke hearts from the evening before are available, cut them up and toss them in with some chunks of Brie. Anything is fine as long as you like it.

Here are some general directions for making a holiday strata. I hope your breakfast, and day, are as stress-free as this dish.

Trouble-Free Holiday Breakfast Strata

The following is a set of guidelines for making your own holiday breakfast. The measurements are for individual servings, so just multiply by the number of people you’re serving. You can also bake this dish in one big casserole or baking dish, or split each serving up in separate dishes (which is what I like to do).

Ingredients:

1/2 - 3/4 cup chopped day old bread, croissants, bagels, or appetizer toasts
2 eggs
1/2 cup whole milk or half and half
1/4 cup of your favorite on-hand ingredients (such as cooked spinach and shallots; sausage and onions; tomatoes and bacon; lump crab meat ; holiday ham; chanterelles; or whatever sounds good)
1/3 cup cheese (use leftover appetizer cheese from a holiday party; Cotswold is one of my favorites, but Brie or Gouda are also great. If you don’t have any, use some cheddar or jack mixed with cream cheese)
1/8 cup crème fraiche or ricotta cheese (if you have some on hand)
1 Tbsp chopped herbs
Top with fresh or dried bread crumbs
Salt and pepper to taste

Preparation:

1. Butter or oil your baking dishes.
2. Add in the chopped bread
3. Top with your favorite strata ingredients, cheese and herbs
4. In a separate bowl, beat eggs, milk or half and half, and salt and pepper
5. Pour egg mixture into baking dish. Let sit overnight, covered, in the refrigerator or for at least ten minutes before baking.
6. The next morning, preheat oven to 350 degrees while you unwrap presents.
7. Before popping the stratas in the oven, top each with bread crumbs
8. Bake for 20 minutes or until cooked through.

December is just about here, which means that bakeries are beginning to roll out their annual holiday treats. Those of us with a gluten allergy don't have to sit idly by, watching as our friends and loved ones enjoy a bevy of baked goods -- we live in the Bay Area, where gluten-free bakeries are popping up in many major cities (along with pizza places!).

Take, for example, Zest Bakery, an independent shop that recently opened in San Carlos. Located right off of Laurel Avenue, this cheerful bakery was opened by Patrick Luke and Charissa Fleischer, two sweets-loving newlyweds. A true family affair, Zest also features gluten-free mini-cheesecakes made by Charissa's sister, Cynthia, the mastermind behind the the AntiCupcake Company (her motto is "Down with the Cupcake! Up with the Cheesecake!").

Here are just a few of the tasty holiday treats you'll find at Zest:

• Pies: pecan pie, pumpkin pie, berry pie, Dutch apple pie with dulce de leche - some pies can be made dairy-free as well
• Cheesecake: pumpkin pie cheesecake, vanilla bean cheesecake, cranberry congnac cheesecake, eggnog cheesecake, mini firehouse smores cheesecake
• Breads: white dinner rolls, multigrain rolls, cornbread rolls
• Gingerbread men
• A gluten-free holiday survival kit

Zest Bakery
1224 Arroyo
San Carlos, CA 94070
(650) 241-ZEST (9378)
Twitter: @zestbakery

Another gluten-free bakery to recently appear in the Bay Area is Oakland's Good Chemistry Baking. Started by Jane and Rick O'Hara and serving up espresso, baked goods, and a wide selection of deli offerings, Good Chemistry has become an everyday stop for the locals of the Grand Lake area. This holiday season Jane and Rick have packed their pastry cases with a great selection of holiday favorites:

• Gingerbread loaves and cookies
• Tea loaves: cranberry nut and lemon poppyseed
• Linzer torte cookies
• Dinner rolls and stuffing cubes
• Challah

Good Chemistry Baking
3249 Grand Avenue
Oakland, CA 94610
(510) 350-7190

It wouldn't be the holiday season without a stop at Mariposa Baking Company, located in Oakland on Telegraph Avenue. Now an East Bay mainstay, Mariposa Baking has been baking up some of the best gluten-free brownies, muffins, and pizza crusts since 2004. Owner Patti Furey Crane is known for her creative goodies, so you're sure to find a range of delicious offerings in her display case. If you're in the northern Peninsula, you can also get Mariposa Baking baked goods at San Bruno's Carrot's Coffee & Tea.

Worth mentioning: once you're done shopping at Mariposa, head next door to The Wine Mine, where owner David Sharp stocks a great selection of gluten-free beers to take the edge off after a day of holiday shopping.

Mariposa Baking Company
The Wine Mine
5427 Telegraph Ave
Oakland, CA 94609
(510) 595-0955

Zest bakery has generous shared one of their most popular recipes: cranberry-cognac bread pudding. This dessert is so simple, you won't even need a special gluten-free flour mix to make it. You can just use the loaf of gluten-free bread that's been sitting in your freezer for the past month, waiting to be eaten, or make some homemade bread just for this dish.

Holiday Cranberry-Cognac Bread Pudding (Gluten-Free)
Compliments of Zest Bakery in San Carlos

Makes: 12 servings

Ingredients:
1 1/2 cups fresh cranberries
1/4 cup cognac
3/4 cup water
2 tablespoons orange zest
3 cups granulated sugar, divided
3 cups cubed, stale gluten-free bread
6 large eggs, beaten
2 1/2 cups milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 vanilla bean pod
4 tablespoons butter
Course sugar or turbinado sugar for sprinkling

Preparation:
1. Pour cranberries, cognac, water, orange zest and 1 cup of the granulated sugar into a small pot and simmer on low for 20 minutes. Stir occasionally to keep from burning. Turn off the heat and set aside.
2. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 13 x 9 x 2-inch pan.
3. Arrange cubed bread in a single layer in the pan and spoon dollops of the cranberries over the bread. Add the remaining cubes of bread and spread with a few more spoonfuls of cranberries.
4. Mix together eggs, milk, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and the remaining 2 cups of granulated sugar in a bowl. Split the vanilla bean pod lengthwise and use the tip of the spoon to scrape out the vanilla caviar. Add the vanilla caviar to the egg and milk mixture and whisk until combined. Pour mixture over cubed bread and let sit for 10 minutes.
5. Dot with butter and sprinkle with turbinado sugar. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until set. Remove from oven and allow to cool.

"A merry Christmas, Bob! Said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken…I'll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob!..."

Like a lot of Christmas revelers out there, I count A Christmas Carol as my favorite holiday story. Yet my reason for loving this Dickens tale is probably a little different than you might expect. Although I find Scrooge's metamorphoses from Bah-humbug kill joy to jolly benefactor heartwarming, I adore his transition from gruel eater to Smoking Bishop drinker even more. In one day, old Ebenezer goes from eating only to survive -- I mean, come on, gruel for dinner on Christmas Eve? -- to purchasing the largest and best Christmas turkey in London.  His change is so dramatic that he actually suggests imbibing a bowl of Smoking Bishop early in the day with the much abused Bob Cratchit. I find this act even more profound than when he raises Bob's salary a moment earlier. It's Ebenezer Scrooge's wish to indulge in a holiday cocktail that seems the greatest evidence he has found his yuletide soul. Ah... good old converted Scrooge and his new-found love of the drink.

But what is Smoking Bishop and how did it get such an entertaining name?  I did a little research and found a great clip from a Morning Edition episode in 2002 on NPR. In the piece, Neda Ulaby interviews Cedrick Dickens, Charles Dickens great-grandson, who explains that "people back in the 1800s enjoyed a whole range of 'clerical drinks,' and Smoking Bishop was one of these. "Pope is burgundy, Cardinal is champagne or rye, Archbishop is claret, Bishop is port, and so on," Dickens goes on to say. I just love the English and their naming conventions.

Smoking Bishop is basically a type of warmed sangria made with port. From what I can tell, it's a traditional Christmas drink, but I'm not sure if this happened because of the reference in A Christmas Carol, or if it was already a holiday beverage before that. Whatever the case, as a lover of sangria and A Christmas Carol, I think I'll need to give it a try this holiday season.

The 1999 version of A Christmas Carol with Patrick Stewart is the only film version I know of where Scrooge actually calls the drink Smoking Bishop (which is how Dickens himself referred to it in the story), although as my family only watches this version (which is my daughters' favorite) and the Alastair Sim's Scrooge (which is my favorite -- too bad he scares my kids), I'm sure there are others I'm not aware of.

In the all-time classic Alastair Sim's version -- who, as far as I'm concerned, plays the greatest Scrooge of all time -- they have changed the line so Scrooge now says "a bowl of hot punch." I wonder if they changed the line because they didn't think anyone would know what Smoking Bishop was; whatever the case, I'll forgive them as it's a near perfect Christmas film otherwise.

And for your own holiday entertainment, watch the full version of Seymour Hicks in Scrooge from 1935.

To make your own bowl of smoking bishop, here's the recipe from Ms. Ulaby's interview

Smoking Bishop

• Take six Seville oranges and bake them in a moderate oven until pale brown. If you cannot procure any bitter Seville oranges, use four regular oranges and one large grapefruit.

• Prick each of the oranges with five whole cloves, put them into a warmed ceramic or glass vessel with one-quarter pound of sugar and a bottle of red wine, cover the vessel, and leave it in a warm place for 24 hours.

• Take the oranges out of the mixture, cut in half and squeeze the juice, then pour the juice back into the wine.

• Pour the mixture into a saucepan through a sieve, add a bottle of port, heat (without boiling), and serve in warmed glasses.

• Drink the mixture, and keep Christmas well!

I am entering into high birthday season. Not only my own, but about half of the people I know. We’re Summer babies-- the product of cold-weather snuggling and perhaps a little too much Holiday Cheer. I suspect that my own conception had something to do with Nixon's 1968 presidential victory. I shudder, yet I am grateful. And, as I type this, I realize that today is the 100th anniversary of my paternal grandmother's birth (the smiling profile at the lower right of the photo, eleven months before I was born). Of course, she hasn't been celebrating it herself for some years, which isn't surprising-- she's dead.

When I hit the one-year mark, my mother (Mia Farrow-circa-Rosemary's Baby haircut, second left) thought it would be a fun idea to have a joint birthday party for my grandmother, and myself since our birthdays were so close together. The birthday cake read "Happy birthday Mom and Michael!" I'm sure I was delighted with the cake, as I am sure there are photos of me with icing smeared all over my face and body. My grandmother, however, was not. "Don't ever do that again" was all she said. She didn't enjoy having her special day shared, nor did she like the fact that her birthday wishes would be diluted by those of a small, frog-like newcomer who frequently soiled his onesies.

And I don't blame her one bit. On average (unless you happen to be someone who enjoys multiple birthday parties), you get one shot a year at your own cake and birthday wish. That thought makes me weep for all the twins and triplets in the world.

So where and when did this dessert become imbued with the power to single out one's specialness, grant wishes, and divide families?

What an excellent question.

The Birth of the Birthday Cake

Both the Greeks and the Germans lay claim to inventing the birthday cake. Of course, the Greeks claim to have invented everything, so I'm not surprised.

In Ancient Greece, flat, round cakes of honey and nut meats called plakous were given in offering to the moon goddess Artemis on her special day of celebration-- the world's first Moon Pie, if you will.

The Romans, as was their habit, adopted this Greek custom, but latinized the cake's name to placenta and expanded upon the idea of annual celebrations. Whereas the Greeks had limited their cake offerings to the gods, the Romans took a shining to the idea of the birthday, celebrating those belonging to their Emperor-du-jour and his family, to important military heroes, even to one's own city. One's50th year is said to have been celebrated with a cake make of flour, cheese, honey, and olive oil. Placenta, delicious placenta.

Of course, neither the Greeks nor the Romans bothered to come up with a new word for cake, since little distinction was made between these cakes and bread.

No, it is rumored that our word for cake is derived from a 13th Century Norse word: kaka. Cake, it would seem, was in need of a greater marketing strategy.

It was the Germans who really put the concept of the modern birthday cake on the map. In the Middle Ages, sweetened bread dough was made into the shape of the Baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes and eaten cannibalistically on that biggest of all birthdays, Christmas. I am reminded of the story a friend once told me of how is family celebrates that holiday every year. His mother walks into the dining room carrying a peppermint-frosted birthday cake (because Jesus loves both you and peppermint) and everyone bursts into a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday". Not, I hope, "Happy Birthday, Jesus".

Mercifully, the idea of a bready Christ-child lost some of its appeal, but the tie-in of child + birthday = celebration survived in the form of the Kinderfest-- a child's birthday party. In centuries past, it was usually the custom to regard children as either mini-grown-ups, free sources of labor, or simply not at all, since it was most likely that he or she would not survive into adulthood. It was the Germans, with their proto-modern Geburtstagtorten, who helped to pioneer the warm and fuzzy regard with which we now regard the young. At least our own. And the birthday cake.

Candle Power

It's impossible to talk about birthday cakes without regarding their source of power-- the birthday candle.

Fire is, of course, a source of both light and heat. It is therefore symbolic of the sun's power and, as such, the use of it in religious rights is not at all surprising. The smoke from these fires -- from candles or burnt sacrifices-- would rise, curling its way up to Heaven, to whichever god one was worshipping at the time. The Greeks sometimes placed candles upon their cakes, as they did with Artemis, and lit them as they prayed. With the round cakes glowing like the moon, they sent their prayers skyward with the smoke. It is essentially that tradition we still follow, though we no longer call them prayers, but wishes, which sounds less religious, yet more unreasonably hopeful, and we light up German Chocolate or Wacky Cakes instead of Moon Pies, because that somehow seems more comfortable to us.

We place the same number of candles on our cakes as the number of years we have lived but, no matter how many candles there might be, we get just one wish. The more candles on the cake, the more difficult it is to blow them out in a single breath, as is the wish-making custom. If anything, this symbolizes not only the complexities of aging, but also the growing unlikelihood of our ever getting what we wish for. For the young, the act of blowing out candles is one of hope. For the elderly, it can be an exercise in frustration and futility, which might explain why my family stops counting candles for someone when their age exceeds the number of candles in a standard box-- 24.

Whatever you might read into the tone of this post, I am not completely cynical about the birthday cake, its traditions, and its powers. I don't believe so much in the making of wishes by blowing out candles, though I enjoy the symbolism behind the act. The real power of the birthday cake comes from the fact that, if it is made from scratch, it tells the recipient that he or she has been thought of in advance, is loved.

And, of course, I love the fact that I, as the birthday boy, am essentially coating the entire surface of the cake with a fine mist of my own spittle, sharing a little bit of myself with all my co-celebrants. It's better to give than to receive, you know. That's why this year, I shall joyfully close my eyes, put my lips together, and blow.

The 4th of July is a huge event in our house. My daughters classify it as the third best holiday, after their birthday and Christmas. Yes, I realize their birthday isn’t a holiday, but try telling that to them.

My daughters’ enthusiasm is due in large part to the fact that our city, Piedmont, goes a bit nuts on July 4th. The day starts off with a pancake breakfast hosted by the fire department (which actually we’ve never attended, but it’s there for all to enjoy). Later, we have a homespun parade, complete with Scottish Highland bands, dog brigades, soccer teams marching, and the Oakland Raiderettes. There’s then a big party in the park with a band, hot dogs and shaved ice. Later in the day, the small streets of Piedmont become no-traffic zones as the majority of neighborhoods settle into their annual block parties.

Each neighborhood’s party is a little different -- there are those with bounce houses for the kids, while others have potato sack races -- but the common denominator for all are hordes of kids running, scootering, and cycling around what becomes a parking lot of garden chairs in the road filled with adults of all ages. Some may think our parties are a bit hokey, and they may be right, but there’s really something to be said for breaking bread (or rather a hot dog roll) with your neighbors at least once a year.

My favorite part, however, is that there is serious food to be had. Although the parties offer the standard hamburgers, hot dogs, and veggie burgers you see throughout America on July 4th, this is by and large a potluck affair where every family brings a dish. I love scoping out the tables to see what everyone has brought. Sure, some people bring the Safeway platter of cut fruit, but more often than not, my lovely neighbors bring something homemade, which warms my heart and makes me feel less irritated later in the year when I hear their dog barking all night or when a buzz saw wakes me up at 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday because someone has decided to put in a new planter box (Oh wait. That was my husband.).

As our neighborhood’s party just happens to land right on my doorstep, I’m lucky to have the main food table literally touching my front yard. I love checking out the selection and finding out who brought what. We start with the appetizers, brought by families with last names from A-G. These usually include some freshly made guacamoles and salsa, deviled eggs, and prosciutto and cheese plates. Each year, a mother and her daughters bring homemade lychee, maraschino cherry, and lime gelatin in Dixie cups. I barely know this family, and I’m not a big fan of gelatin, but I admire their spirit of culinary experimentation. When I catch a glimpse of them throughout the rest of the year, I fondly recall that they’re the Jell-o family.

H-O families then bring the salads. There’s usually a great range of these, from Capreses and mixed greens, to taco salads and Asian cole slaws. I find it impossible to choose only one or two and so usually opt for small tastes of each.

Finally, the P-Z families bring the desserts. Homemade berry pies are the real stars here, although I am also quite partial to the coffee cakes with brown sugar toppings and freshly baked cookies as well. Sure, some people bring see-through plastic containers of hydrogenated store cookies, but these are always left to linger while the neighborhood discusses recipes and unabashedly debates which dessert is the best.

I am technically an “L,” and so therefore should bring a salad. But, for many years I was an “S” (as in Santoro), and my signature block party dish was always my peach crisp with vanilla ice cream. When I got married, a neighbor asked me to stick with dessert because she looked forward to eating my crisp each year. Since then, I have brought my crisp, even when I had infant twins and just wanted to sack out in a garden chair.

I love this crisp recipe because it’s huge, feeds a crowd, and is ridiculously simple to make. You will see that the directions are a bit vague, but that’s the beauty of this dessert. It’s something you throw together and then share with the neighbors, much like we do with ourselves at the block party.

Block Party Peach Crisp

Serves: 10 people (or thereabouts)

Ingredients:
Filling
4 - 5 pounds of peaches or enough freshly sliced peaches to fill a 9x13” baking pan
1 cup granulated sugar
1/4 cup flour

Topping
1 cup flour
1 cup Instant oatmeal
1 cup brown sugar
1 1/2 sticks butter

Preparation:

1. Slice enough peaches into 1/4 inch slices to fill a buttered 9/13” baking pan to the top
2. Mix in sugar and flour
3. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, oatmeal and brown sugar.
4. Incorporate the butter until it is broken into small chunks (you can do this in a food processor, but I think it comes out better if you just squish the butter with your hands)
5. Set the topping on top of the filling in the pan, spreading evenly.
6. Bake at 350 degrees for about an hour, or until the topping is browned and you can see the peach filling bubbling inside.
7. Set aside to cool a bit and then serve with vanilla ice cream or whipped cream.

It's getting to be that special time of year again. I will leave the reasons behind its specialness open to interpretation. Holiday party invitations start showing up in one's mailbox the moment the turkey baster has been dried and tucked away in a drawer. Concurrently, this is the time of year when egg nog starts to muscle its way into your local supermarket's dairy case.

Egg Nog. It's a heart-stopping, cholesterol-laden, alcohol-spiked, phlegm-producing cup of Holiday goodness. And I'm a huge fan. I always have been.

As a child, the appeal was obvious; what eight year-old is going to say no to a sweet, creamy dairy product? I imagined I was drinking melted nutmeg ice cream. Given the ingredients, I didn't know how close to the mark I was. I would drink several glasses at holiday gatherings. If I accidentally got into the rum-spiked nog for adults (which was understandable since the crystal punch bowl full of alcoholic nog looked exactly like the cardboard carton that contained the booze-free liquid), so much the better. Open a container, pour out its contents, mix in a little rum, and get the party started. Egg nog punch is that simple. Or was, until I had my first taste of the real stuff.

It wasn't until I was well into adulthood that my family would pay a call on my stepmother's friend Charlene and her family, who had a sort of open house party every Christmas Eve. The house was always dressed to the teeth in holiday drag, complete with a sort of Christmas-on- Main-Street, U.S.A. recreation in miniature spread out over the tables in the living room and onto the grand piano. I'd peek into the tiny cellophane windows looking for any signs of domestic unhappiness or violence, but was invariably disappointed in my search. Booze-spiked cocktail wieners, prawns, and every kind of dip imaginable were there for the taking, and our hosts were always warm and in a festive mood, which is just the thing my family needs during the holidays. For me, the two main attractions of the party were the Presentation of the Egg Nog, and the Wheeling-in of Grandpa. This quiet old gentleman was missing one of his legs and an eye. At least, I assume he was missing an eye since he wore an eye patch. This in itself is nothing unusual, since it it very likely that he suffered from diabetes, though I never asked. What I always found interesting was the fact that he was always parked against the wall near the center of the main room, slightly to the right of a parrot cage, which hung near (but wisely not over) the dessert table. He was, to me, a sort of pirate centerpiece to the party.

The Presentation of the Egg Nog was not a heralded event, but one I always watched with interest. Charlene and her husband Bill would be in the kitchen fussing over the bowl, stirring in something here, adding a little nutmeg there. They'd do a little tasting, adjust favoring, do a little more tasting, add more booze, then Charlene would pick up the enormous bowl and walk it to the buffet table very carefully, the whitecaps of stiffened egg white gently rising and falling against the sides. When her mission had been successfully accomplished, people would grab their cups and huddle around the bowl, waiting their turn to dip in. It was a revelation, in terms of my nog-drinking experience. It was fresh and frothy. I finally understood where the egg part of egg nog came in-- the subtle yellow coloring from yolks beaten without mercy, the foam of egg whites folded in for body. It ruined my enjoyment of store-bought nog forever.

I won't assume that all three of you reading this have ever tried homemade egg nog. If you haven't, and you don't have problems consuming dairy, cholesterol or alcohol, I say go ahead and try it. It's really, really good. And you only get it once a year, so drink up.

Egg Nog

The rumor behind the word "nog" is that it derived from the English word "noggin"; a small, carved, wooden mug used to serve drinks in various taverns. The full name of this beverage might have been "egg and grog in a noggin", which does not sound especially appetizing. There also seems to be some disagreement as to whether the beverage is spelled as one word or two. I like two, it sounds more important that way.

Ingredients:

4 egg yolks
1/3 cup sugar, plus 1 tablespoon
1 pint whole milk
1 cup heavy cream
1 teaspoon grated nutmeg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup rum, bourbon, or whatever poison you prefer
4 egg whites

Procedure:

1. Beat egg yolks until pale yellow in color. Gradually add 1/3 cup of sugar until it is totally dissolved.

2. In a medium saucepan, over high heat, combine milk, cream, and nutmeg and bring to a boil, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat and temper the hot milk mixture into the eggs and sugar. Return everything to the pot and cook until mixture reaches 160 degrees F. Remove from heat, stir in alcohol and extract, pour into a medium-sized mixing bowl and chill in your refrigerator.

3. In a medium bowl, beat egg whites to soft peaks. Gradually add one tablespoon of sugar as you beat until stiff peaks form. Whisk egg whites into chilled mixture.

4. Put your now fresh and somewhat safe beverage in the noggin or vessel of your choice and drink up.

"Sweet & Salt Relish" is a recipe entry dated March/April 2003 in one of my little recipe books. Each book corresponds to a time period, the restaurant I was working in at the time. The pages in this one reflect recipes I used in my first months at Aziza, a Moroccan restaurant with a particularly modern Californian slant.

I was attempting to create a vegan garnish for the sorbet plate. Mourad Lahlou, Aziza's chef/owner, serves food thick with aroma and spice, rich with clarified butter and intense from slow braised meat sauces. My goal was to create sweets clean and bright with seasonal flavors: desserts I would crave after eating his North African sweet-savory food.

Inspired by Haroseth and in lieu of Passover, a Jewish holiday ending in the eating of flour-free (unleavened) desserts, I give you an intriguing garnish for just about anything sweet, savory, or both. Although this recipe could be made very quickly in a food processor, I strongly suggest chopping all the fruits and nuts by hand. Not only will you have more control over the size and shape of each piece, it will give you time to meditate on the traditions of eating representational foods.

SWEET & SALT RELISH

2 C Organic Raw Almonds
3/4 Cup Candied Kumquats*
1 Cup California Dried Apricots
10 each Dried White Figs
1 Cup Cold Press Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 teaspoon Sel Gris
1/4 Cup Cocoa Nibs
Optional: Honey, Lemon Zest or 1/4 Preserved Lemon (peel only)

1. Rough chop almonds, candied kumquats (*get recipe by clicking here), apricots and figs, and place in bowl. Stir to combine.
2. Stir in olive oil, salt and minced preserved lemon peel or optional ingredients.
3. Just before serving, add cocoa nibs. (This step will preserve some of their crunch, but it's not absolutely necessary.)

Sweet & Salt Relish will keep upwards of a month refrigerated in a non-reactive, tightly sealed container.

I used this kooky garnish for sorbet, but it would also be lovely with most any cheese, especially fresh ones like ricotta, chevre or fromage frais. For those of you who like both a savory as well as a sweet breakfast, Sweet & Salt Relish would be delicious with yogurt-- plain, Greek or goat.

Enjoy! And if it pertains to you and yours, Happy Pesach!