parsnips aplenty

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

August 21, 2008 · 6 Comments

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.

→ 6 CommentsCategories: desserts · fruity · middle eastern · pantry-dependent · summer · under 5 ingredients · vegan

Spanikopita

August 18, 2008 · 3 Comments

In Bulgaria I made my share of banitsa, putting leeks or spinach in it whenever I had them. One day I put in a ton of spinach and an extra helping of yogurt, and when I took a bite, I said, “Oh! This is spanikopita!”

Spanikopita was always something that my mom made on special occasions or that I got to eat at the Greek Orthodox church’s annual festival, and really never more often than that. It seemed labor- and time-intensive, and I never had enough of a mania over it to want to spend the effort making it. Coming back to giant American refrigerators from my just-big-enough Euro chill chest is almost exhausting, but it does mean that I get excited about tossing in ingredients from major fridge rummages. This spanikopita got extra love from cream cheese, lemon zest, and a squeeze of orange.

The thing about spinach: it’s watery. When I’m baking with it, I prefer to get frozen spinach, because then it’s easier to control the amount of liquid in it. After you let it sit out in a collander for an hour or so to thaw, you’ve got to squeeze the ever-lovin daylights out of it, because if it lets out any of that water during baking, you’ll get a soggy mess and end up ordering pizza for dinner. So squeeze, and squeeze hard.

How unintimidating is spanikopita? So unintimidating I didn’t even look up a recipe. This is spinach and feta and phyllo dough. Nothing to freak out about. If I had covered this up while it was baking, the top leaves wouldn’t have fanned up this way, but I like that they did, so I skipped the foil. If you want a nice well-mannered spanikopita, though, cover this for 50 minutes and uncover for the last 10.

Spanikopita

1/2 pound feta cheese, crumbled
1 shallot, chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
2 packages frozen spinach, thawed and strangled
1 cup whole milk yogurt (don’t use low-fat - that’s just watery)
2 eggs
a few gratings of nutmeg
6 ounces cream cheese, at room temperature
a squeeze of orange juice
zest of half a lemon
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
a few heavy grinds of black pepper
phyllo dough
olive oil
toasted walnuts, roughly chopped

Preheat to 350F. In a bowl combine all ingredients except phyllo, olive oil, and walnuts. Drizzle olive oil over the bottom of a 9″x13″ baking dish and place 2-3 layers of phyllo in the bottom. Spread with 1/3 of the spinach mixture. Put 2-3 more layers of phyllo down, drizzle it with olive oil (you don’t even have to pull out the pastry brush! How easy is this?), and spread another third of the mixture. Repeat once more, then top off with another couple of layers of phyllo, topping off with another drizzle of oil - but this time, make sure you get the oil out on the edges too, since you don’t want them to get too dry in the oven. Pop it in for an hour. When it’s golden brown and bubbling, you’re good to go. Let it cool for about 10 minutes, then cut it up and serve garnished with walnuts.

→ 3 CommentsCategories: baked · mains · one-dish meals

quickie

August 16, 2008 · 1 Comment

Yall have got to check out my friend Cedar’s garden.

Spanikopita a la Lauren coming up this weekend!

→ 1 CommentCategories: Uncategorized

I’m back! With peppers!

August 10, 2008 · 9 Comments

Gas stove, how I've missed you.

Gas stove, how I've missed you.

Well! It’s been a couple months.

I’ve been traveling. I was in Tunisia for a couple of weeks (with a surprise bonus day in Malta!), and then I went visiting friends in Minneapolis and Portland (Oregon) to let them convince me I should move to each of their cities. It was an awfully difficult decision, but in the end, Portland won out. The food scene there is really incredible, and with all the amazing mountains and ocean views within two hours’ drive… I couldn’t say no. So I’ll give it a year, and if the rain and west-coast hippies wear me out, then I’ll go to Minneapolis with the snow and midwestern hippies.

Aw, I love midwestern hippies.

guess what? pepper butt.

guess what? pepper butt.

I’d love to post all kinds of pictures from my travels, but I’m in Asheville now, at my parents’ house, and their computer is vastly confusing to me, so we’re just going to cross our fingers that at least these pepper pictures make it up with no problems.

Yes, it’s a little weird being back in America, but it’s going much better than it did the last time I came back from a Peace Corps assignment. I still have a moment now and again where I’m in the megamart and I can’t remember how to get out again (today I stared, dumbfounded, at half an aisle full of Cool Whip), but I feel like I know how to deal with it, and I know I’ll be moving to a city soon where I won’t be out of the loop for not having a car. Asheville is a great place to have grown up in and it has many wonderful qualities, but public transportation is not one of them, and I’ve made the decision that I’m not going to burn any more fossil fuels than I have to. I’ve become instantly enamored of services like Zipcar, and I’m very excited about getting a bike and a bus pass.

But I digress. Food! That’s why I’m writing. I’m camped out at my parents’ house for the month and made this out of what I rummaged in the fridge. Fancy name, roasted pepper roulade with fig compote. Real name, pepper garlic yummins. I added the compote to keep the garlic from overpowering. You could drizzle some dark honey on, if you’re not around an eastern European grocery that would have fig compote, or you could mush up a fresh fig or two to put in the cheese mixture. (Or you could just make your own danged fig compote.)  Can you tell I already miss sirene? Feta’s good, but it’s not the same.

With goat cheese and figs, how can you go wrong?

With goat cheese and figs, how can you go wrong?

Roasted Pepper Roulades with Fig Compote
serves 4

2 red bell peppers
2 green bell peppers
1/4 cup crumbled feta cheese
1 tablespoon plain whole milk yogurt
1-2 cloves garlic, minced very finely or grated
1 tablespoon grated onion
3 tablespoons finely chopped parsley
fig compote or dark honey

Roast bell peppers, either over a flame or under the broiler, turning often, until peppers are mostly black. Remove to a bowl or saucepan, and cover tightly. Let sit for at least 10 minutes, then remove lid. When peppers are cool enough to handle, peel off most of the black bits with your fingers. They’ll look like this.

Just look at that lump of peppery goodness.

Just look at that lump of peppery goodness.

Slice off the top and bottom of each pepper, taking as little of the flesh as possible, then make a slit up one side and open the pepper so that you can roll it out flat on the cutting surface. Remove and discard the seeds and any large ribs.

In a small bowl mix together cheese and yogurt. Add garlic, onion, and parsley and combine well. Take about a tablespoon of filling and spread it evenly along one of the roasted peppers, leaving a little room around the edges. Roll up the pepper and slice it in half. Do this with the remaining peppers and arrange on each of 4 small plates, with half of a green pepper and half of a red pepper on each plate. Drizzle with the syrup from the fig compote and serve.

→ 9 CommentsCategories: appetizers · neo-bulgo · summer

Pomegranate Molasses and Sheep’s Cheese Biscuits

June 16, 2008 · 6 Comments

                                     

Woke up this morning.  Talked to my parents.  Asked Dad, “What should I have for breakfast?”  Dad said, “Um… pomegranates, scones, garlic.”  I said, “Well, I could do the first two.”

Based on Crescent Dragonwagon’s biscuit recipe from Dairy Hollow Soup and Bread.  These are great.  Strong flavors pack a delightful punch.  Drown them in honey.  ‘Scuse my brevity - I’ve got to go eat more.  Mmmph.

                               

Pomegranate Molasses and Sheep’s Cheese Biscuits
makes 16

2 cups flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1/3 cup cold butter, cubed
1/4 cup grated fresh sheep’s milk cheese
1/4 cup pomegranate molasses
3/4 cup milk
sesame seeds
honey, for serving

Preheat to 425F.  Sift flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together into a large bowl.  Add butter and cheese and incorporate into the dry mixture with your fingertips, a pastry cutter, or two forks, until the whole thing is a little coarser than coarse cornmeal and a little finer than peas.  Combine milk and pomegranate molasses and stir thoroughly; add about 2/3 cup of this mixture to the bowl and give it a few strokes with a fork.  If it’s still too dry, add remaining liquid.  This dough should barely hold together as you dump it out onto a floured work surface.  (And I do mean barely.  Proper biscuits require trust.)  Pat it together into a square and use a pizza cutter to slice it into 16 pieces.

                                   

Why aren’t we making nice round biscuits?, you may ask.  Because this method insures the least possible amount of dough handling.  If you want to use up all your biscuit dough and you make circular biscuits, you’re going to have to do another couple of rounds of kneading the dough - which makes for a very Not Perfect Biscuit.

Sprinkle the top with sesame seeds, load these onto a baking sheet, and pop ‘em in the oven for about 15 minutes.  Remove to a linen-lined basket and don’t be shy with that honey.

                                          

→ 6 CommentsCategories: baked · breakfast · snacks

slow blog means fast life

June 9, 2008 · 1 Comment

Hi all, just wanted to let you know that I’m turning this into Parsnips Occasional for the next few weeks as I head into the home stretch of packing and traveling.  I’ll update when and where I can, but don’t expect anything regular until August, which will be the first time I’m in the same place for more than a few days.  I’d post backlogged recipes, but they wouldn’t be very seasonal then, now would they?  Happy solstice and I’ll see you for sure as soon as I can.

With traveling boots and best wishes,
Lauren

                                                    

→ 1 CommentCategories: no recipes

Green Salad with Sheep’s Cheese and Cherries, Dressed in Minted Honey Vinaigrette

June 2, 2008 · 4 Comments

This weekend I went to Rila Monastery, a UNESCO heritage site and a place that not only tops any must-see list in the Balkans but is held dearly in the Bulgarian national consciousness. It was built by an order led by Ivan Rilski, a 10th-century hermit, and became a sanctuary for Bulgarian culture through 500 years of Ottoman rule that lasted until the late 19th century. After having lived here for two years and somehow missing every opportunity to go visit the monastery with friends, I finally decided to just get on a bus and go down myself. (I paired the visit with a narrow-gauge rail journey through the Rila and Rhodope Mountains, which made for an altogether excellent weekend.)

The monastery is beautiful, 20 kilometers from the nearest town, and well worth more time than I had to see it. I was there for only a few hours, but plentiful hiking trails around the area and the ability to stay overnight in former monks’ cells could easily keep one occupied for a whole weekend. There are a few souvenir stalls around, but the line is constant at the bakery, where you can buy fresh bread (I’m still munching on the remains of the loaf I picked up) and sheep’s milk yogurt, which I had never had before. The yogurt is really tasty - it has more of a bite than cow or goat yogurt, but it’s not overwhelming, and everyone milling around the compound had a little container of the stuff that they were nursing.

looking up through the chimney of the monastery kitchen

On my way back home this morning, I wandered around the market at the bus station, still thinking about sheep’s milk and waiting for inspiration to strike, and it did as I saw some home-grown lettuce and local cherries for sale alongside bunches of red onions still on the stalk that I just couldn’t pass up. I grabbed a cucumber and a couple of bunches of herbs, then ran into the shop and got some sheep’s milk cheese and honey, and came home ready to make something gorgeous.

view from the eastern wall

I’ve been making a real effort lately to use more fresh mint in my kitchen - I find that throwing some in halfway through cooking gives the most incredible flavor, and the way it brightens a salad just makes the day that much better. So I made sure to add a handful to the dressing, and I am very excited about what will happen to the rest of the bunch I bought. I think I’ll start by putting it in the pan with some roasting potatoes. But today, salad. A good balance, here, between sweet cherries, an earthy, full-bodied cheese, refreshing cucumbers, and a tangy, herby dressing. This would be nice, too, with some toasted walnuts.

Green Salad with Sheep’s Cheese and Cherries

For each serving, rip up a few leaves of lettuce into bite-sized pieces and put on a plate. Top with a few shavings of fresh sheep’s milk cheese, 4 or 5 halved pitted cherries, some very thinly sliced red onion, and cucumber. (You can either seed and chop the cucumber, or you can make little noodles out of it: make ribbons with a vegetable peeler, stopping when you get to the seed bed, then stack the ribbons and slice them lengthwise into very thin strips.) Top with a few spoonfuls of:

Minted Honey Vinaigrette

In a small jar combine about 1/4 cup red wine vinaigrette, a very-finely chopped clove of garlic, the zest and juice of a lemon, a finely-chopped sprig each of fresh parsley and fresh mint, and a tablespoon of honey. Add salt and ground black pepper to taste and about 1/4 cup sunflower oil, close the jar, and shake it up.

→ 4 CommentsCategories: dressing · salads · summer · traveling

Dry Yogurt with Chocolate and Cinnamon

May 24, 2008 · 13 Comments

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.

—————————————

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.

→ 13 CommentsCategories: desserts · neo-bulgo · pantry-dependent · under 5 ingredients

Shortbread with Lavender and Sleepytime tea

May 20, 2008 · 8 Comments

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.

→ 8 CommentsCategories: cookies · desserts · pantry-dependent · snacks · traveling

Hoo-ee!

May 19, 2008 · 3 Comments

New design!  I’ll be working out the kinks in the next few days.  Like the header picture?

→ 3 CommentsCategories: Uncategorized