Lazy Bear: A Revelation for a Cranky Old SF Cynic

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I had the excellent luck last month to: A) meet a couple of awesome new friends at a shared table at brunch, B) become part of a dinner-going group with them and my friend A, with whom I went to Rome in December and who has brilliant connections and a serious take-charge attitude, leading to the four of us C) going to Lazy Bear for one of the most remarkable dining experiences I've ever had in my relatively charmed life.

I was extremely skeptical at first – Lazy Bear is a sort of private dinner club-turned restaurant that is super expensive and notoriously difficult to get tickets for, a combination that heightens my hype-dar immediately.  But I didn't want to be a party pooper and I had a little extra cash cushion so I agreed to go.  On the day of the dinner, a gorgeous sunny Saturday, I was loathe to get dressed up and go to what I was sure would be an overproduced and underdelivering San Francisco wankfest (pardon my French but I really was feeling very wary).  But almost from the minute I walked in the door, the first to arrive, my expectations were proven wrong.  

Ruminations on Perfectionism and Lemon Cream Pie

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One of my favorite things anyone has ever said to me about writing was a Voltaire quote one of my wonderful teachers passed on to us in the early months of my MA: "don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good".  After years of angsting about writing rather than doing it, my bookshelf littered with beautiful, empty journals too pretty to write mediocre things in, that sentiment resonated hard in my heart.  I determined to give myself credit simply for doing, even just for trying, or simply for remembering an idea – anything to encourage myself to build up momentum instead of stopping in despair.  And it worked, most of the time.  Okay, the beautiful journals still sit empty on the shelf, but now I buy myself unimpressive, blandly designed journals and write in them without concern for perfection.  And when I was in Italy, my amazing friend and writing coach Magda held me to a deadline of 5,000 words a week, and I gave myself the space to write about anything I felt inspired to write – of course, what this means is that I now have somewhere around 40,000 words to sift through and fill holes in, and the majority of what I have is off-plot-line or too heavily biased toward subject matter that was less excruciating to write about, but it's a start.  And that was good enough, at least for the moment.  

My attitude toward baking is similar: as long as people can eat it and enjoy it, I'm happy.  My baked goods rarely come out looking beautiful or professional, and they're almost never consistent in size/texture/bake, which is the main reason I never even considered doing GBBO.  Still, my laid back attitude sometimes leads to legitimate failure in the kitchen (two weeks ago I made some very dense 'muffins', 70% of which I threw out).  And it doesn't always hold up in the face of potential let-downs.  I have definitely had my baking meltdowns, as well as plenty of cases of simple 'that wasn't good enough' melancholy.  For example, the lemon cream pie I made last weekend hit a few too many snags and had me feeling pretty crappy for a while, and now that I want to post about it and I'm looking at these photos in the light of day, after spending all evening editing them with f.lux on, then turning it off and trying to undo the damage, all I can say is 'I'm sorry'.  I'd like to re-do all of it – the pies, the photo editing, even my hair in the photos – but I'd rather get this post up and keep the small amount of momentum I'm beginning to rebuild here in this, my little bakery corner of the internet.

So in the spirit of doing rather than perfecting, let's get cracking on this post about lemon cream pie!  (Sorry I'm not sorry about that pun.)

Prosciutto and Pastries and Prosecco, Oh My! The Foodie Low-Down on My Italian Adventure

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#stuffmyface #ItalyAdventure #girltime by @ahputnam

Hello, strangers! I realize I haven’t seen you around here in MONTHS, and that’s entirely my fault. I had this idea (I’m always having these ideas…) that when I was in Italy I would cook and photograph it (badly, with my iPhone) for you, and post at least once or twice, but alas, like so many of my ideas this one lacked follow-through. I did very little of anything that could be called ‘cooking’, preferring to spend my time eating paprika-flavored Pringles and making Caprese salads and roasted chicken breast and veggies when I needed to eat a real meal inside my home. And of course much of my consumption happened outside the apartment, because: ITALY. That said, I did make a Thanksgiving dinner for my Italian friends (and a few Americans), including my famous pumpkin pie recipe and a whole roasted turkey that would have fed twice as many of us, so the trip wasn’t completely without kitchen activity.

For those of you who don’t follow me on Instagram or Twitter, I offer here by way of apology for my absence some of my favorite foodie photos from the trip (for those of you who do follow me, I’m throwing in some new pics), and at the end of the post I’ll link to the recipes I used for Thanksgiving – I’m happy to report that the Italians were properly blown away, especially by the pumpkin pie and the stuffing, which was unlike anything they’d ever tried before. I also promise to work harder to get back to our regularly scheduled programming, and to share some of the exciting developments that have occurred in my life since last we met.

Pics and captions are after the jump!

A Long Time Coming: Apple Slab Pie Worth Making Thrice

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I made SK's apple slab pie last fall to great acclaim – in fact, the reception was so positive that I wound up making it three times in the space of a week, and there was nary a slice left over that wasn't immediately gobbled up by my parents' neighbors and their nine year old twins.  So why haven't I written it up until now, you ask?  Or, more accurately, you demand, with a stamp of the foot and the missed opportunity of apple slab pie on your palate?

I have no excuse.  There is no amount of busy-ness or family drama or house-/job hunting that can explain why I didn't stay up all night editing photos and writing up the recipe.  I just...didn't.  And I'm truly sorry, because you've all been missing out.  But I plan to make amends now; better late than never!

But not for you, when it comes to making this pie.  Get on it.  Seriously, you guys, this thing is TASTY.  Not too sweet, with a flaky, buttery handmade double crust just bursting with appley goodness.  And yes, you read that right: I made the crust from scratch.  I almost never do that, especially here in the US, where frozen pie crust is so easy to come by and decently tasty, but this time I figured I might as well make use of my mom's Cuisinart and spare myself the math of trying to make a long rectangle out of two pre-made circles.

Thanksgiving Across the Pond

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Normally around this time of year I'd be looking out at the above view, loving Northern California with my whole heart while the women in my family (that's about 90% of the clan) bustle around in the background, bickering over seating charts and discussing salad choices and oven schedules and answering the ever-ringing phone with the same refrain: "Butterball Hotline!"  It's the most wonderful time of the year – Thanksgiving is when the extended family gathers, really, and we break up into nuclear pockets over Christmas/Chanukah/New Year's.

This year, though, I can't afford the time or money to go home.  For the first time ever in my life, I'll be missing out on Thanksgiving with my family, and it hurts to think of everyone gathering without me while I sit in my office and schedule books for production...  So I decided I wouldn't allow myself to mope.  If I can't be with my family, I'll make my own holiday, right here in the land our forefathers fled before the holiday ever existed – the BF and I will be doing a Friendsgiving this year, and we're holding nothing back.

We've invited Brits and expat Americans and even a few from farther afield, and the guest list has gotten a little out of hand: we're now expecting around 25 people.  Our table seats ten, and we don't even have that many chairs, but I figure making do and an attitude of 'the more the merrier' is what Turkey Day is all about, so to that end we've bought a bunch of paper plates and plastic cups and cutlery and are planning to seat people wherever we can (including the floor), and we've ordered a 10kg turkey and people will be bringing sides, and I'm going to bake at least two of my family's famous pumpkin pies and mash lots of rutabagas, and I'm committing all the wisdom on the NYT Thanksgiving Helpline to memory... so I think it'll be great fun in the end.

I'll still miss my family, of course, but there's no cure for homesickness like being run off one's feet, and I think I've got that pretty well covered – in fact, I would do well to pause in the middle of my recently-constant moans about how stressed I am and be grateful for everything I have: a great boyfriend, fantastic friends, a book that I wrote up on Amazon for pre-order (!!!), a new job title that ought to bolster my resumé nicely, and a family worth missing when I can't be with them.  I'm a pretty lucky lady.

And now I must stop thinking and go do things, for there are more dishes to wash and seating charts to plan and pie crusts to be rolled out and RSVPs to gather and wine to be ordered and...

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!

On Compromise: Budgeting and Backup Banana Bread

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Life has been a wee bit stressful lately.  I picked up more work and was finally able to break away (hey, better late than never!) from the financial help my parents were giving me when I was in school, but it wasn't until I got my first amended paycheck, post-tax-gouge, that I realized just how much of a cut my monthly budget had taken.  I have to admit, it knocked the wind out of me, and it's taken me a good month or so to begin to think I'm capable of managing.

But I am capable, and I will manage, and it feels so good being completely responsible for my own finances, and completely independent, that I don't think I could go back, even if my parents had a windfall and suddenly wanted to throw money at me like there was no tomorrow.  I love the sense of pride I get from earning my own keep, and if the trade-off for that is a much tighter budget and a restricted social life, so be it.  Everybody makes sacrifices and compromises in this world, and as long as I can afford to stay in my lovely flat and spend time with my lovely boyfriend and bake delicious comfort foods, then I'm doing pretty well I think.

Travel, Family, and Meyer Lemons – Does It Get Any Better?

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Look at that.  Just...look at that.

Now do you understand why I checked out for so long while I was gone?  I know, I know, there are bloggers far better than I, who schedule posts to go up while they're away – there are even some bloggers, like the Energizer Bunny Pioneer Woman, who write and post while on vacation!  Alas, I am not one of these bloggers.  I am weak, and as much as I may know I should write a post while I'm home in SF, I cannot resist the temptation of an offer to walk along Crissy Field instead.

However, I am not entirely useless – I also cannot resist an opportunity to bake, and the overflowing bowls and bags of Meyer lemons in my mother's house were just that.  Her trees in Napa were heavy with fruit, and she was running out of ideas for what to do with it.  So I bring home for you: Meyer Lemon Quickbread (and some bad phone pics, sorry).

Leftover Egg Yolks? Make Sugar Cookies!

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I'm off to San Francisco in an hour, for a nice long visit with friends and family (I finally get to meet my first niece!) and a wee vacay, but I wanted to get a quicky post in before I disappear for a week or two.

So, remember that promise I made in the meringue post about a use for the leftover yolks?  Well, I'm going to deliver!  These sugar cookies are easy and quick, and best of all, they use egg yolks in place of whole eggs, which is not only convenient but also delicious and rich and chewy.

Another Family Favorite: Mashed Rutabagas

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My family's Thanksgiving celebrations are different every year.  Some years it's a relatively small group, just my immediate family, a few close friends, and whoever else can make it, and some years we have 35 people, half of whom aren't technically family, and we have to rent tables and silverware and cook three separate turkeys three different ways.  Sometimes we have traditional roast turkey, or Moroccan spiced turkey, or deep-fried turkey – one year we even had turkey tacos, which went over like a lead balloon with the younger generation.

No matter where we are, though, or how many of us gather, or what we decide to do with the bird, there are always a few dishes that are absolute must-haves.  Pumpkin pie is the most important, of course, followed closely by some kind of crisp.  We always have turkey of some sort, and gravy, and a big salad.  And we're likely to have mashed potatoes, but much more important (an absolute must, in my opinion) are the roods.

Ain't Nothin' Wrong with a Classic: Chocolate Chip Cookies

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 Can it be?  Can it really be possible that I haven't ever posted a recipe on this blog for that most classic of classics, the chocolate chip cookie?  How can that be so?

Well, I guess it doesn't matter how the omission came to pass – the important thing is to rectify it.

Less Healthy, Still Easy: Peppermint Cream Cookies

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One of my favorite things about the holidays – besides the family time and vacations and trees and frolicking – has always been the limited-edition flavor combos that companies put out, usually involving peppermint and chocolate in some combination or another.  I used to hoard peppermint bark and mint M&M's and dark chocolate York patties for weeks, long after my stocking had been packed away in the cedar chest with the rest of the holiday decorations.  But, my love of chocolate aside, my absolute favorite treats were always pure peppermint.  And I wasn't alone.

My friend Rachel practically swoons over the mint M&M's every year, and my college roommate, Emily, and I used to go to the grocery store in St Louis (Schnucks!) every December and buy huge tubs of Dryer's (or, in the Midwest, Edy's) peppermint ice cream while it was still on the shelves.  We'd stick one or two gallons in the back of the freezer and pull them out for a scoop (or a naughty late-night spoonful straight from the carton) well into the warmer months.  It was one of my favorite flavors, so much more pure than mint chip, and somehow so exotic because it was only in the shops for a short time (unfortunately, I later discovered that one of my fave ice creameries in SF, Swensen's, does a scrumptious peppermint ice cream, year-round, but luckily parking around there is a nightmare so it still retains its rarity, and thus its charm).

Old Favorites Remembered: Gram's Deviled Eggs

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One of my favorite treats when I was growing up was my grandmother's deviled eggs (and her chocolate chip cookies, and the Mexican brownies...).  She used to bring them sometimes when she drove to visit us, and I just remember my mouth watering as she peeled back the cling film from the plate and set them on the kitchen table.  The minute I was given the go-ahead from my mother, I'd dart forward like a small rodent and grab an egg, stuff it whole into my mouth, and bite down into the rich, soft, yolky center.

My mouth would fill to bursting with contrasts: firm white and silky yolk; smoky paprika and sweet relish; spicy mustard and cool bland egg.  I was convinced I could eat a whole plateful by myself, if I'd been allowed to be so glutinous.

Finally, a Cure for American Fall Nostalgia!

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Back when I first moved to London, one of the things I missed most about the states was hot apple cider.  The fall snap in the air that first year hit my nostalgia buttons hard, and I found myself aching to crunch through an autumn wonderland, breath clouding, hands wrapped around a hot cup of steaming apple cider.  But alas, I was disappointed again and again – even Starbucks didn't have it, and there was nothing resembling cider (to mull myself) in the shops.  The closest thing I found was something called mulled apple cider at Covent Garden, but one sip of the revolting alcoholic brew dashed my hopes against the cobblestones and shattered them into a million shards of sad.

All that fall and winter I had to content myself with coffee, which, luckily, is one of my favorite things.  But it still didn't hit the spot.  I guzzled the real stuff on brief and wonderful trips home, and resigned myself to a life without sweet, cinnamony comfort.

   

The 'Other' Thanksgiving Dessert: Apple Crisp

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You guys already know I'm obsessed with pumpkin, and especially with my family's pumpkin pie.  So of course when I was home in San Francisco for Thanksgiving I ate a ton of the stuff.  But what you don't know is that there's another dessert my family serves every year, and it's not pecan pie (we do serve that sometimes, in which case it's a third option) – it simply has to be something fruity.

'scuse the iphone pics – didn't bring the big camera home.*

My mom and her sisters, the current matriarchs of our big, female-dominated clan, aren't super big on sweets.  They're salt folk, and they often skip dessert altogether on Thanksgiving, preferring to eat a slice of pumpkin pie at 6am the next day, for 'breakfast' (my mom never eats breakfast, besides these rare morning-after occurrences).  So if there's going to be another dessert on their table, they require it to be something a bit less sweet, less rich, more fruit-based, and that usually means an apple crisp.

Delayed Gratification: Blueberry Boy Bait

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When I first saw this recipe forever ago on Smitten Kitchen, I immediately bookmarked it.  I mean, cake batter, fresh blueberries, cinnamon topping, and a cute name?  Sold, sold, and sold again.

But then it got lost in the flood of recipes I was bookmarking every day, and I forgot about it.  Until my friend Aine asked me on facebook if I'd ever heard of it, and the desire came rushing back.  Oh, Boy Bait, I lamented, how could I ever have forgotten you?

A First Time for Everything: 2-Hour Whole Wheat Bagels

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I've always wanted to make bagels, but every time I thought I was up for it I either balked at all the steps or had a yeasted-things-disaster just before I was planning to make them and got too intimidated.  It seems like such a process: all that kneading and rising, then more rising and resting, then the shaping, and to top it all off they have to be boiled before they're baked??  WTF.

 

But then, last weekend, I found myself with nothing interesting to do (the bf was off with his study buddy) and some extra whole wheat flour on my hands (not literally, that part comes later), and I came across this recipe for bagels in two hours.  Yes, two hours, start to finish!  It seemed too good to be true, but I was bored and I figured I'd give it a shot.

The End of an Era, Marked by Crumb Coffee Cake

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So, my MA course is officially over.  We've all handed in our dissertations, and even though some people are still working on their books (poor researchers...), most of us are starting to look for agents and publishers to take us on.  It's a whole new ballgame, and this time we're on our own.  No weekly workshops where we can glean advice from those farther along than the rest; no meetings with grown-up writers (ie tutors) who can guide us in the right direction; no grades/marks to let us know whether what we're doing is working.  Nope, each of us is on her own now, and that's both freeing and terrifying.

But it doesn't mean we can't still meet up and gossip over cake every now and again, and that's exactly what we did a couple weeks ago!  After much back and forth on scheduling and location, we settled on a date and time and met up at our classmate C's house in West London for brunch.  And yes, the tube lines were down, and yes, the journey was long, but it was so worth it for the lovely outdoor space and even lovelier hospitality.

Fall Baking, Without the Pumpkin: Dairy Free Spice Cookies

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The air is biting, the leaves are turning, and the adolescent swans down on the canal are finally starting to turn white, which means two things: 1. the swans are currently a mottled grey-white, which is adorably hilarious, and 2. it's time to bust out the fall recipes!

Now, I'm not the most creative cook, so fall recipes, for me, usually just involve pumpkin.  I love pumpkin.  Pie, bread (or bread, or bread), muffins, oatmeal – you name it and put pumpkin in it, I'll eat it.   

Dead Easy: Chocolate Chip Blondies

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I love a one-bowl recipe.  Lately, with my MA course ending and changes at my job and this massive manuscript edit looming over my head, all I've been wanting to make are easy, comforting, quick recipes – had you noticed?  With the exception of the lemon cream pie, nearly everything I've made in the past 2 months has come together in under an hour and involved one bowl, a couple of measuring cups, and a (usually lined with foil) baking dish/tray.  Few steps, few ingredients, few dishes to clean up – great result.  That's my kind of recipe.

Martha's Magic: Lemon Cream Pie

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I love Martha Stewart's recipes.  My banana bread recipe comes from her book, and it's been a regular favorite of pretty much everyone who knows me for years.  In fact, my friend made it for her boyfriend the other day and she said he loved it, so the legend lives on!