Category Archives: pantry-dependent

Biscuits.

You can tell a foodie by how she packs for an extended trip abroad. When I moved to Bulgaria, I took black beans and quinoa, and I left a list of foods that my friends and family should feel free to send any time they had an urge to put a care package together. Sage! I said. Ranch dressing mix! Molasses! Marcy scours the Asian grocery before a trip to Europe. Nolan brings a jar of mole. When Krista went to Mexico, she made room in her suitcase for a 5-pound bag of White Lily flour. This is how I knew we’d be friends.

I have spent much of my brief life looking for good biscuits. Usually, I paid for them. (I think there’s a support group for that.) Outside the American south, amazing biscuits are hard to come by – most folks don’t understand that the point is to use just enough flour to hold all the fat together. What ends up happening without this rule is a lump of baked dough that tastes like toothpaste without the minty freshness, thanks to all the baking soda that gets thrown in.

I could always make decent biscuits, but I needed a gobstopper of a recipe to support the technique I understood. A few weeks ago, I found it. It’s in the Gourmet cookbook, and everyone who’s eaten these that I’ve made for them has said little more than “oh. Woah” before they vacuum them up off the plate. Then they look at me in adoration, a buttery gleam in their eyes, and say, “…could you, uh, make those again?”

You’d think that I would make enough of a recipe that people wouldn’t need to ask for a second batch. But when a stick of butter makes only four biscuits… Well, you’ve got to pace yourself.

When I made them this morning, I took a bite, held it for a second, and literally felt it melting in my mouth. I didn’t know that was possible with anything that wasn’t chocolate ganache. I see no other biscuit recipe but this one from now on.

Biscuits
adapted from The Gourmet Cookbook
makes 4 giant biscuits

2 cups all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon coarse sea salt
1 stick butter, chilled and cut in tablespoons
3/4 cup well-shaken buttermilk (I like to use 1/4 cup almond milk and 1/2 cup yogurt)

Preheat to 425F. In a large bowl stir together flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Add butter and cut in with forks or a pastry cutter until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add buttermilk and stir just to combine.

Turn out onto a well-floured surface and knead 5-6 times, until the dough starts to come together. Pat into a small circle, about an inch and a half thick. Using a 2″ ring mold, punch straight down into the dough, no twisting. Reform dough and cut out three more biscuits. Bake 10-15 minutes, until golden brown and delicious. (You’ll hear them sizzle on the pan. It’ll be great.) Eat with apple butter and sweet tea.

Thai Tea Ice Cream

All summer long, I’ve been thinking of ice cream. And sherbet, and sorbet. And all the wonderful things I could do if only I were to drop fifty bucks on a kitchen appliance instead of on a fancy dinner. (It’s really hard for me to not spend money on a fancy dinner, especially in Portland.) With every new frozen dessert recipe and idea I saw, I would say it louder: “I’m totally getting an ice cream maker next week.”

Before I knew it, September arrived, and the vapidity of my promises reared its head. I couldn’t let the summer close without that icy churn sitting on my countertop, and so, on Labor Day weekend, I made good. After an agonizing week’s wait, I greeted the UPS man on Friday with a cheer, and I immediately dissected the delivery. I’d already made a couple of bases to go in the bucket as soon as it froze – for grapefruit-fennel sorbet and Thai tea ice cream. I’d had the latter at Staccato Gelato earlier this year and quickly lost the ability to recall my life without it. Since the flavors at Staccato change all the time, I hadn’t had it since, and as soon as I entered my shipping details I knew that this was going to be in the first round.

Thai tea is a cantaloupe-colored drink, rich with sweetened condensed milk. I first heard mention of it from Aunt Carole, whom I always considered the family foodie, when I was a teenager. Her ability to get Thai food in Chicago, however, was much greater than mine in North Carolina. I finally tasted some in college and immediately understood what all the fuss was about. I don’t know what’s in it, and I’m not sure I want to know – I sacrifice some things for the sake of mystery. Its taste is almost rustic, but there’s enough exotic bliss to keep you going, and on a hot day it’s one of the few dairy-laden beverages that cool me off.

I found this recipe from Mac & Cheese, a Philadelphia vegetarian blog. Since most of my extended family is in Philly, and I went to high school there, I’m all about supporting the Delaware Valley foodies. (Tell Grandmom I said hi.) I adore this not only because it tastes great but because it’s got 3 ingredients. Can’t get much more simple than that.

thai tea ice cream

Thai Tea Ice Cream
from Taylor at Mac & Cheese
makes about a quart

1/3 cup loose leaf Thai tea
2 1/2 cups boiling water
1 cup sweetened condensed milk
1 cup half and half

Steep tea in water 20 minutes, then strain and let cool to room temperature. Mix 1 1/2 cups brewed tea with sweetened condensed milk and half and half. Freeze mixture in your ice cream maker, according to manufacturer’s directions.

Coconut Lime Shortbread

Shortbread, short entry.

This is an infinitely adaptable basic recipe: one part sugar, two parts butter, three parts flour (by weight). Because it’s so simple, you should bring out the good butter for this. Or the good… coconut oil?

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Coconut Lime Shortbread
makes about 20 cookies

2 cups all purpose flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup (one stick) butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup coconut oil, at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
zest of 1 lime
unsweetened dried coconut

Combine all ingredients except dried coconut and rub together with your hands until a dough forms – it will barely hold together. Pat into a circle and wrap in plastic; stow it in the fridge for at least an hour. (I left mine in there for a week. Oops.)

Preheat to 350F. Remove dough from fridge and let warm enough to roll into a circle 1/2″ thick. Pat dried coconut into the dough and cut into any shapes you like. (Unicorns!) Bake 15 minutes and allow to cool on baking sheet 5 minutes before removing to a rack to cool completely.

I brought these to Zeke’s birthday party. Here is a picture of Zeke eating his giant birthday cupcake.

Hooray for sugar!

Peanut-Ginger-Sesame Cookies

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I have an announcement. Are you sitting down?

The sun has been shining in Portland for 10 straight days.

It’s been amazing.

I was lolling on the grass one sunny day in college, Back East, and my friend Natalie, who grew up here in Portland, turned to me and said, “I’m from Oregon. We don’t really trust the sun.”

“Well, I sure as shit ain’t moving there,” I said to myself.

But 8 years later, here I am, and after my first northwest winter, I’ve joined the club. I get out of the house the moment the clouds thin, because I know that blue skies won’t be the case for long. When the sun can’t decide whether or not to come out during the day, however, and we get clouds-sun-clouds-sun, I think, “Oh, just let it be cloudy and let’s be done with it.”

Last weekend, though, I dug out spaghetti straps, linen dresses, and tube tops from the back of my closet. After a week and a half of this weather, I think it’s going to hang around for a little while. My pasty winter skin has gone away and I feel like a normal human being again! It’s been picnics aplenty here in Stumptown and today was no exception. Sesame cookies and seitan bánh mì with a rockstar dipping sauce from Veganomicon were in hand as Ravi and I walked to the park; we munched away on our tasty sandwiches and sugar while feeling summer coming on stronger by the minute. Let’s just hope the sun sticks around for awhile.

The bánh mì didn’t last long enough to get a decent picture, so I’ll focus on the cookies. The hardest part of vegan baked goods is getting the texture right for those of us who grew up on egg-leavened treats. These cookies nail it. And they do it without flaxseed, a hippie-food favorite that my body just doesn’t tolerate. Brown rice syrup, peanut butter, and equal amounts of baking powder and baking soda pull together the right mouthfeel; the spices and wandering hint of almond extract makes a wonderful balance. Plus, pretty!

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Peanut-Ginger-Sesame Cookies
from Veganomicon by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero
makes 42 cookies

2 1/4 cups flour
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 cup nonhydrogenated vegan shortening, softened
1/2 cup chunky peanut butter
1/4 cup brown rice syrup
1 1/4 cups sugar, plus additional sugar for rolling
1/2 cup soy milk
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon almond extract
5 ounces candied ginger, diced finely
1/3 cup each white and black sesame seeds, or 2/3 cup of just one kind

Preheat to 350F and lightly grease two cookie sheets.

Sift together flour, baking powder, soda, salt, ground ginger, and cinnamon, and set aside.

In a large bowl use electric beaters to cream the shortening until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes. Add the peanut butter, rice syrup, sugar, soy milk, and extracts, and continue to beat until creamy, 4-5 minutes. Using a rubber spatula or wooden spoon, stir in the flour mixture, then add chopped candied ginger and stir until a very firm dough forms. You can use your hands towards the end to mix the dough.

Roll scant tablespoons of the dough into walnut-sized balls. Roll each ball in sesame seeds, then roll in a little sugar and place on a prepared cookie sheet, leaving about 1 1/2″ of space between each cookie. Flatten the balls just slightly and bake for 10-11 minutes for chewy cookies, up to 14 minutes for firmer, crunchier cookies. Remove from oven and allow cookies to remain on baking sheets for a few minutes before transferring to wire racks to cool.

Lemon-Rose Pancakes with Cardamom Syrup

I’m so glad my friend Zeke has started taking French lessons on the weekends, because the language school is a few blocks from my house, and it gives him an excuse to come over on Saturday mornings. Zeke is wonderful at encouraging me to dig in the back of my pantry for the right thing to throw in a basic recipe, these pancakes being a great example. I suggested zesting a lemon into the batter, and, as I was wondering what I should pull out of the spice cabinet to complement it, he said, “Do you have any rosewater?”

Well, of course I have rosewater.

Almond extract, cardamom, and rose petals later, we had some lovely pancakes. The basic recipe I use is from Stephanie Giacoletto, a fellow Bulgaria volunteer. Believe it or not, give the batter a few more whisks than you might think is acceptable for pancakes.

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Lemon-Rose Pancakes with Cardamom Syrup

syrup
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup sugar
zest of 1/2 lemon
3 cardamom pods, crushed
splash of lemon juice
splash of rosewater

pancakes
2 eggs
2 cups milk
4 tablespoons oil
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1/4 teaspoon almond extract
zest of 1/2 lemon
crumbled petals of 5-6 dried rosebuds
2 cups flour
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
oil or butter, for cooking

Make syrup: in a saucepan over medium high heat, combine water, sugar, lemon zest, and cardamom. Bring to a boil and cook until reduced by half. Remove from heat, add lemon juice and rosewater, and set aside.

Make pancakes: In a small mixing bowl combine eggs, milk, oil, vanilla, almond extract, lemon zest, and rose petals. Set aside. In a large bowl combine flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Add wet to dry and stir to mix.

Heat about a tablespoon of oil in a skillet over medium high heat. When pan is hot enough that a drop of water sizzles in the oil, pour in about 1/4 cup of batter. Flip when the edges just start to look dry and bubbles pop to form little holes (instead of melting back into the batter, which means that it’s still too wet). Repeat with remaining batter, putting as many pancakes in the pan as you can without crowding; add more oil to the pan as needed.

Strain syrup to remove cardamom seeds and pour over pancakes. Powdered sugar, too? Yes.

Chocolate Cherry Upside Down Cake

What do you do when skies are gray and the days aren’t yet long enough?

You open the freezer to find the sour cherries you picked and put away last summer! And then you make a cake.

I made this last February, when a bunch of other volunteers crammed into my little apartment for a weekend of winter food lovin’. Then we rolled back the Turkish rug and initiated a hoe-down. Bonus: it’s vegan. But don’t say that too loudly.

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Chocolate Cherry Upside Down Cake
adapted from a recipe from allrecipes.com

2 cups frozen pitted sour cherries, thawed and drained
3 tablespoons butter or Earth Balance
3 tablespoons sugar

2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 cups white sugar
3/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups water
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup distilled white vinegar
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

Preheat oven to 350F. In an 8″ metal cake pan, combine cherries, butter, and sugar and put over medium-high heat, stirring until butter and sugar have melted. Set aside.

In a large bowl sift together flour, sugar, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt. In another bowl combine water, oil, vinegar, and vanilla. Pour wet into dry and mix until just barely combined. Pour over cherry mixture in cake pan. Bake 30-35 minutes and let cool for 10 minutes in pan before turning out.

Cranberry-Orange Cornbread with Five-Spice Glaze

A few months ago, I mentioned my love for Crescent Dragonwagon, a self-professed “closet vegetarian” for years who finally outed herself in her wonderful cookbooks.  She’s done a lot to influence the way I think about food, and has much to do with my refusal to see vegetarianism as a limitation.

So imagine my surprise when I saw that she had commented on the entry!  She had her publishers send me a promo copy of her newest book, The Cornbread Gospels, and while I think it is indeed possible to beat a single food item into the ground, I trust Crescent to make anything well.  I finally cracked it open last week, to make her Cornmeal-Oatmeal Cranberry-Orange Loaf.  The bread itself was definitely above average, cakey and moist and everything it should be in Crescent’s magical kitchen, but I was astonished to see that the recipe called for orange zest without making use of the orange juice that would be left over!

Well, I said to myself, we’ll just fix that.

So I made this glaze and holy cannoli, it’s amazing.  I understand that part of the point of having a food blog is to toot one’s own horn, and I try not to do that too much, but, really, I am a GENIUS.  I had my doubts when this stuff first started heating up on the stove – the five-spice powder + Cointreau was a bit overpowering – but once it started to thicken, any sharpness mellowed and I considered buying a funnel so that I could just pour it directly down my throat.  That method, however, would neglect the cornbread itself, with which this goes brilliantly.  I’ll mention that all of the measurements for the glaze should end with “or so”, since I added a bit of this and a sprinkle of that. All raves aside, I can say no more other than that you really need to drop whatever you’re doing and make this.  You know, now.

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Cranberry-Orange Cornbread with Five-Spice Glaze
adapted, and in some cases, directly copied, from a recipe by Crescent Dragonwagon

vegetable oil cooking spray
1 1/2 cups unbleached white flour
1/3 cup stone-ground yellow cornmeal
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 eggs
3 tablespoons mild vegetable oil
1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons buttermilk (I used half milk and half yogurt)
finely grated zest of 1 orange – save the juice!
1 cup cranberries, washed, picked over, and coarsely chopped
1/2 cup chopped pecans
1/4 cup rolled oats

Preheat the oven to 350F. Coat an 8″x8″ pan with oil. Sift together flour, cornmeal, baking powder, baking soda, sugar, and salt into a large bowl. In a separate bowl whisk together eggs, oil, buttermilk, and orange zest. In a third bowl combine cranberries, pecans, and oatmeal. Sprinkle a tablespoon of flour mixture over them, and toss well.

Quickly combine flour mixture and egg mixture, using as few strokes as possible. Gently stir in the cranberry mixture. The batter should be stiff. Spoon batter into prepared pan and bake 45-55 minutes. Check two-thirds of the way through the baking period; if the loaves are browning excessively, tent them loosely with foil.

Let the baked bread cool for 10 minutes in the pan, then run a thin knife around the edge of the pan and turn the loaf out. Drizzle with glaze: in a saucepan, combine…

1/2 cup powdered raw sugar (I used Mexican sugar)
juice from the orange you zested
a splash of Cointreau
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon Chinese five-spice powder

Bring to a boil and cook, stirring constantly, until reduced to a thick glaze. (This will go fast – watch it!) Pour it on, baby.

Four sorbets: lavender rose, watermelon, coconut lime, and orange blossom

In the past two years I have been finding more and more ice cream recipes, as everyone in America seems to have discovered that what you get at the supermarket is nowhere near what you can make at home. Trouble was, I was NOT in America, and I did not have an ice cream maker, nor could I even dream of affording one. So I spent my time filing away frozen dessert ideas, and now that I’m ensconced in my parents’ kitchen until next Saturday, I pulled out the ice cream maker to play with the recent Tuesdays With Dorie Blueberry Sour Cream Ice Cream. (I used blackberries, brown sugar, and lime. Two thumbs up.)

But, you know, that ice cream maker is heavy. So why not just leave it out on the counter for a bit longer, and get my – er, my parents’ – money’s worth out of it? Result: It’s sorbet madness over here. I’ve got a friend coming to visit this weekend, and I hope she’s bringing a spoon.

I’ve learned that a couple of tablespoons of booze keeps it scoopable, since the alcohol won’t freeze solid, and I’ve basically been following a 2 cups liquid : 1 cup sugar ratio, always with a dash of something citrusy. If you’ve got a well-stocked pantry, you can make some pretty outrageous sorbets, and if you’ve got a decently-stocked pantry, you can still make some awfully neat ones.

When I was living at home for the three months between Peace Corps assignments, a couple of years ago, I made a giant order to a Middle Eastern online grocery, and last week, I found some remnants of that order (in the liquor cabinet, heaven knows why): rose syrup and orange blossom water. Orange blossom water, also called orange flower water, costs an arm and a leg in tiny little blue bottles at your Finer Grocery Shoppes, but if you buy it online, or if there’s a Middle Eastern grocery in your town, you can get a bigger size at a better price.

Rose syrup is available online, too, or you can buy some rosewater – more widely available and less expensive than orange blossom water. It won’t turn the sorbet pink like my fluorescent-dyed syrup did, but you can also use it with sparkling water to make a nice rose soda. (This is my other favorite thing to do this summer – I’ve made fig soda, too, with some of the syrup that I also used in the roasted peppers.) Of course, you could make your own rose syrup, with rosewater and sugar.

If you really pushed me to pick a favorite from these, I’d go with the coconut. It’s vegan paradise – creamy without the soy aftertaste that so often plagues dairy-free desserts. It’s not too sweet, and it’s a classic combination of ingredients in perfect summer form. It’s hard to call this one ahead of the others, though – the feeling of eating pure frozen flower essences from the lavender/rose and orange blossom sorbets, and the simple bliss of the watermelon… You really should just make them all.

But if you make the lavender/rose one, take a nice picture for me – our batch got eaten before I could whip out the camera.

Lavender Rose Sorbet
I served this with some rosewater-soaked almonds on top.

2 cups water
1 cup sugar
1 tablespoon dried food-grade lavender flowers
juice of 1 lime
1 tablespoon rose syrup or rosewater
2 tablespoons vodka

In a saucepan over high heat, bring water, sugar, and lavender to a boil. Let simmer 5 minutes, then turn off the heat and leave to steep for another 10. Strain and mix with lime juice, rose syrup, and vodka, then freeze according to your ice cream maker’s manufacturer’s directions.

Watermelon Sorbet
Not that watermelon ever needed to be improved. I love watermelon and rose together, so if you want to put in a splash of rosewater, no one’s going to stop you.

flesh from around 3 pounds of watermelon, black seeds removed
1/4 cup water
1 cup sugar
juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons vodka

Mash up the watermelon a bit and put it in a saucepan over high heat with water and sugar , and bring it to a boil, stirring until sugar is dissolved. Put this mixture in a blender with lemon juice and vodka, and buzz until smooth. Freeze according to your ice cream maker’s manufacturer’s directions.

Coconut Lime Sorbet

This one needs much less sugar due to the natural sweetness of the coconut. I used palm sugar, which has a subtle grassy flavor, and is also a southeast Asian staple. If you don’t have it, though, regular cane sugar will do fine. Brown sugar might be nice, as well as a dash of rum instead of vodka. You could also split a vanilla bean and put it in to simmer with the coconut milk; I didn’t have one around, so I just used vanilla extract.

11 oz coconut milk (I used two 5.5-oz cans) or coconut cream
1/2 cup water
juice and zest of 2 limes
1/2 cup palm sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 tablespoons vodka

In a saucepan over high heat, bring coconut milk, water, lime juice, and sugar to a boil. Simmer, stirring, until sugar dissolves. Remove from heat and add vanilla and vodka; freeze according to your ice cream maker’s manufacturer’s directions, adding the zest towards the end of freezing time.

Orange Blossom Sorbet

Also needs less sugar. Jasmine green tea could be fun.

1 cup fresh orange juice
1 cup water
2 bags plain green tea
3/4 cup sugar
1 tablespoon orange blossom water
2 tablespoons vodka
zest of 1 orange

In a saucepan over high heat, bring orange juice, water, green tea, and sugar to a boil. Simmer, stirring until sugar dissolves, then remove from heat and let steep 5 minutes. Combine with orange blossom water and vodka and freeze according to ice cream maker’s manufacturer’s directions, adding orange zest towards the end of freezing time.

Dry Yogurt with Chocolate and Cinnamon

Bulgarians are very proud of their food.  And with tomatoes this good, who wouldn’t be?  Bulgarian food, while not a crucial cuisine in the curriculum of international culinary arts, has some wonderfully simple dishes based on fresh, seasonal, often home-grown food, and there are many ingredients and dishes that I am so happy to have eaten.  Sirene, the feta-like cheese about which I frequently wax poetic, is an essential here, and red bell peppers are a way of life.  I’ve been asked often if XYZ exists in the U.S., and sometimes I have to stifle a laugh – yes, we have tomatoes – but many folks are astonished when I tell them that red bell peppers can reach $6 a pound.

There is one ingredient so vital to the Bulgarian kitchen that its Latin name references the importance it has here: yogurt, soured with the culture Lactobacillus bulgaricus, is so common that if you go to the shop and ask for milk, they’ll ask if you want fresh milk or sour milk, “sour milk” meaning yogurt.  Bulgarians have little problem substituting yogurt for milk in almost any recipe and put it in everything from soup to sauces.  I am lucky to have a dairy in my town that makes fantastic yogurt, and there is always a container or seven of it in my fridge.  I was never one of those that was afraid of plain yogurt before I came here, and would often stand in the kitchen at my parents’ house, eating spoonfuls of Cascade Fresh straight out of the jumbo tubs we bought it in, but I was a little fearful of yogurt cheese.  I saw some little balls of it on a buffet table once and thought they were mozzarella, so I popped a whole one in my mouth and bit down on what I soon assumed to be bocconcini gone bad.  Moments later, still trying not to grimace at the flavors lingering on my gums, I overheard someone say, “Aren’t these little yogurt cheese bites just wonderful?” but it was too late.  I was scarred.

But I have gained nothing in Peace Corps if not resiliency, so I decided not too long ago to strengthen my resolve and make what Bulgarians call “dry yogurt” – basically, yogurt with much of the liquid strained out.  This is, seriously, the easiest thing ever, and so smooth.  You can use this as a substitute for sour cream, whipped cream, cream cheese… you get it.  Creamy.

A ridiculously simple dessert that I like to make is to add cocoa powder, sugar, and a pinch of cinnamon to the yogurt before I strain it.  If you don’t dig chocolate, use something else – caramel, fresh or dried fruit, dulce de leche?  A wonderful base for any number of combinations.  Just make sure to use yogurt with no additives – if it says ‘gelatin’ anywhere on that package, just put it back on the shelf.  No one should be eating that garbage, anyway.

Dry Yogurt with Chocolate and Cinnamon
serves 1

12oz plain low-fat yogurt (I use 2%, but if you don’t see any 2%, get whole rather than fat-free)
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
sugar to taste
toasted walnuts, to garnish

OK now, focus. This is tremendously complicated.  Ready?  Ready.

Combine yogurt, cocoa powder, cinnamon, and sugar and stir well.  Pour into a cheesecloth-lined sieve set over a bowl.  Come back in three hours.  Spoon into a bowl.  Garnish with walnuts.

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I also just wanted to show you this picture I took of some bucatini that I put in baked spaghetti last week.  (Well, baked bucatini, I suppose.)  I’m not sure I understand the culinary advantage of having center holes so tiny, but hey, it makes for cool photos.

Shortbread with Lavender and Sleepytime tea

Bulgaria is the world’s largest producer of rose oil, and most (if not all?) of the country’s roses are grown across the wide belt of the Rosova Dolina, or Rose Valley.  Every year, on the first weekend of June, the cities of Kazanluk and Karlovo, which bookend the Rose Valley, hold their arms wide open for the Rose Festival, three days of singing, dancing, and a beauty contest.  I went to the festival last year in Kazanluk and while everyone was in the center of town enjoying the performances, a few friends and I walked out to the Rose Institute, on the edge of the city, to see if anything was happening out there.

To our surprise, absolutely nothing was happening Out There.  A couple of staff members were milling about, but there were no tours going on, no special signage, nothing.  The only clues that this was a weekend celebrating the efforts of the Institute were a couple of souvenir stalls at the front gates and a bunch of Japanese tourists that came in as we left.  We took advantage of the lack of personnel to peek around a bit.  We followed our noses to the distilling room, where large, puffing, steaming vats were connected to each other by various tubes and gizmos, and where one very frustrated worker was banging and clanging an uncooperative machine.  

Towards the front of the complex was a building housing a large lobby that served to educate visitors on the many kinds of herbs – not just roses – grown and studied by the Institute, including chamomile (лайка), lavender (лавандула), and many other plants whose names I couldn’t translate.  I noticed that they made chamomile oil, something I’d never seen before, but when I asked the lady working at the little sales kiosk in front of the building if she carried it, she said no.  I was sad but only momentarily as my eyes wandered up to see boxes of food-grade lavender for sale.  I bought two and brought them home to fill up a Ziploc bag, where they have sat, waiting patiently for my inspiration to strike them, ever since.

I have decided, finally, to put some in shortbread.  Not terribly original, but I don’t have an ice cream maker (I have been wanting to make lavender ice cream for as long as I can remember), and I have been feeling quite stuck as to what else I could do with them.  Maybe jam?

This was my first time making shortbread (shameful, I know), and I was a little bit nervous about rolling out a dough so crumbly, so I decided to just pat it into a pan.  As I was rummaging around for a cake tin, I saw my muffin pan and said “Oh-HO!”  And so these were born. These are not dainty tea cookies – these are flowery little butter bombs that will satisfy your sweet tooth but won’t leave you feeling like a brick. I really love the flavor added by the tea as well.  (In response to a question, Sleepytime is about half peppermint and half chammomile.  One teabag’s worth is half a tablespoon.)  They would be great, too, with some lemon zest added in – I think I’ll do that next time.  I used up the last quarter cup of whole wheat flour that I had hanging around, so these are a bit browner than they would be if you followed the recipe exactly as I wrote it, with only white flour.

Shortbread with Lavender and Sleepytime Tea
makes 6 muffin-sized cookies

1 stick (8 tablespoons, 125 grams) butter
1/4 cup sugar
1 1/4 cups cake flour or 1 cup all purpose flour and 1/4 cup cornstarch
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon dried lavender flowers
contents of 1 bag of Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime tea

Preheat to 350F and butter a 6-cup muffin tin.  In a bowl combine butter and sugar, then sift in flour and salt.  Mix until a dough forms, then add lavender and tea.  Knead dough a bit just to pull it together a little more, then divide mixture evenly into muffin tin.  Bake 30 minutes or until lightly browned on top.  Let cool at least 15 minutes before turning out.