In Search Of

I’m in the process of finding that brownie recipe—you know, the one that is perfect in every way. I know everybody has different preferences, so I realize that this certain brownie I’m searching for might not be the one for you. But still, I was kind of hoping that maybe some of you might have brownie preferences that overlap with mine. Because the thing is, I still haven’t found (what I consider to be) the best brownie recipe.

I tried this recipe a couple months ago because it not only because it comes from Cook’s Illustrated via Smitten Kitchen, two sources I always trust and turn to, but also frankly because it had the word “classic” in its name. But in the end the brownies didn’t feel chocolaty enough while being overly sweet, and they felt too soft and cake-like.

About a week ago I tried out the brownie recipe you see in the photos here. Not willing to give up my faith in Cook’s Illustrated, I picked out another one of their recipes that promised to specifically deliver on the chocolate and chewy factors. These ended up being really chocolaty, due to the big chunks of chopped bittersweet chocolate added to the brownie batter before baking, which I liked. But even with that richness, they just seemed a little bit oily and they still didn’t seem to entirely deliver on the promise of chewiness.

I think as it stands at the moment, my favorite brownie recipe are these cheesecake-swirled brownies. Obviously the cheesecake part is pretty awesome, but I happen to think that the brownie part of that recipe is my favorite type of brownie I’ve tried. (Especially when chilled—does anyone else like their brownies cold?) Maybe I’ll try working with that recipe, without the cheesecake part, to see if I can get closer to the type of brownie I want. I’ve also been eyeing David Lebovitz’s brownies (both Robert’s Absolute Best version and the dulce de leche version) and Alice Medrich’s recipes (classic and all-cocoa versions).

But! I was hoping this is where you could come in. Before I go testing more recipes, I was wondering of you could give me guidance. Do you have a favorite brownie recipe that you’re satisfied with, and if you do, what is it? As I mentioned at the start, I realize everyone has a different “favorite.” But I figured some of you might happen to like a chocolate-packed, fudgy and not cakey, chewy brownie, just like I do. Even if that type of brownie isn’t your favorite, please let me know what is! After all, maybe the still-non-existent brownie that I’m searching for is different than what I’ve been convincing myself it is.

Chicken Tikka Masala and a Simple Rice Pilaf

I think I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it now and will most likely say it again some time in the future: I am no authority on Indian cuisine. I go to an Indian restaurant, get a little frustrated when I read the description of every dish as “meat with a blend of herbs and spices” (seriously, how am I supposed to differentiate between the dishes with details like that?), and then blindly point my finger to one of the items on the menu with the hope that I’ll end up liking it. That being said, I always do end up liking it because I happen to think Indian food is very tasty. But still, the point I am attempting to make is that I might be a little more than lost when it comes to understanding the nuances and or really even the basics of Indian food.

(As I am re-reading what I wrote above, I’m starting to realize that the technique I described above of blindly pointing my finger to a random item on the menu because I have no clue of what to pick out is something I employ quite often, and not just in Indian food. This is what I did when I was in Italy and couldn’t read the Italian menus, and what I often do when I am too indecisive to firmly pick something out at any type of restaurant, foreign or not. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, maybe I have used at least a variation of this technique for some other, somewhat greater, decisions of my life. Like choosing colleges to apply for, or places to apply to work at. Whoops.)

Anyway, it doesn’t take much expertise or active consideration to flip through the glossy pages of my American Test Kitchen Menu Cookbook, spot a pretty picture of chicken tikka masala, hop over to the store to pick up a serrano chili and a bundle of cilantro, and then do the little bit of chopping and stirring that this dish requires. I don’t know much about this dish (ahem, see first sentence of this post), but I do know that it technically didn’t even originate in India but rather in London sometime in the 1970′s. It has, nonetheless, grown to acquire a level of popularity so much so that it is now considered to be the national dish of India. So you see, chicken tikka masala, you and I aren’t so different when it comes to Indian authenticity after all.

Anyway, no matter the degree of authenticity of this dish or my understanding of the cuisine or the accuracy of my decision-making skills in general, this chicken is just plain good. It’s simple enough for a weeknight sort of meal, and is easy to pair with this simple basmati rice pilaf and some cooked vegetables. The chicken for the masala can be grilled, if summer grilling is on your daily menu in these upcoming months, or it can be cooked under the oven broiler setting, as I did with this version here. After only a few minutes of cooking the chicken, it’s ready to be added to the spicy tomato sauce that is made heavenly with the addition of a bit of cream and some smooth spices (garam masala, I love you). I think this dish becomes exceptionally good after a day or two, once the flavors “meld” or “marry” together or however that goes. My mom brought some leftovers to her work the following day, and once realizing that her delicious-smelling meal did not come from an Indian restaurant, her coworkers promptly asked for the recipe. This recipe is something to keep and take note of, and it doesn’t take any authority on any cuisine to realize that.

Chicken Tikka Masala
Adapted from America’s Test Kitchen Menu Cookbook
Serves 5 to 6

If you’re using a very thick greek yogurt brand such as Fage in this recipe, you might want to thin down the yogurt with a few tablespoons of water when making the yogurt mixture for the chicken. 

1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts (about 28 ounces total)
1 cup whole, plain yogurt
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon freshly grated ginger
2 garlic cloves, minced

2 tablespoons olive oil
1 small to medium onion, diced
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, or more for taste
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 teaspoons freshly grated ginger
1 serrano chile, stemmed and seeded, minced
1 tablespoon garam masala
1 tablespoon tomato paste
1 28-ounce can crushed tomatoes
1 tablespoon sugar
2/3 cup heavy cream
minced cilantro, for garnish

To prepare the chicken, combine the salt, cumin, coriander and cayenne pepper in a small bowl. Pat chicken breasts dry with a paper towel and place in a platter or dish. Sprinkle evenly with the spice mixture, mixing and gently pressing to help the spices adhere. Cover the chicken with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 30 minutes or up to an hour. Whisk yogurt, oil ginger and garlic together in a large bowl and set aside until the chicken is ready to be cooked.

For the masala sauce, heat the oil in a Dutch oven over medium heat until shimmering and hot. Add the onion and 1/4 teaspoon of kosher salt and cook until softened and lightly brown, about 5 to 6 minutes. Stir in garlic, ginger, chili, garam masala and tomato paste and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds.

Add the crushed tomatoes and sugar and allow the mixture to come to a boil. Once boiling, reduce heat to medium low, cover, and allow to simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring occasionally. Once reduced, stir in the cream and return to a simmer. Remove pan from heat and cover to keep warm.

While the sauce is reducing and simmering, cook the chicken. Grill the chicken on an outdoor grill, or cook under the broiler heat setting in the oven. To broil the chicken, adjust an oven rack to the upper-middle position and preheat in oven to the high broiler setting. Set a fine wire rack above a baking sheet lined with aluminum foil. Using tongs, dip the chilled chicken into the yogurt mixture so that the chicken is coated with a thick layer of yogurt and lay on the prepared baking sheet. Discard extra yogurt mixture, if any.

Broil the chicken until the exterior is lightly charred in spots and the chicken registers 160 degrees, about 10 to 15 minutes, making sure to flip the chicken half way through its cooking time. Once fully cooked, allow the chicken to rest for 5 minutes. Cut the chicken up in to 1-inch chunks and stir into the warm sauce. Season with salt and pepper, to taste. Serve over rice pilaf (recipe below), and garnish with cilantro.

Basmati Rice Pilaf
Serves 6 to 8

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 onion, diced
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 1/2 cups basmati rice, rinsed
3 3/4 cups water

Heat oil in a large saucepan over medium heat until shimmering. Add onion and 1 teaspoon of kosher salt and cook, stirring occasionally, until onion is softened, about 5 to 6 minutes. Stir in rice and cook, stirring often, until the edges of the rice begin to turn translucent, about 2 minutes.

Stir in the water and bring to a simmer. Reduce heat to low, cover, and continue to simmer until the water is absorbed and the rice is tender, about 20 minutes. Fluff rice with a fork, season with salt and pepper to taste, and serve.

Smoothest, Creamiest Hummus

After last week’s twenty-first-birthday-meets-exams-and-too-many-papers final days of the semester, I returned to Washington this past weekend to spend my last real summer vacation at home.  (By the way, thanks to those of you who gave me nice birthday wishes, they were so kind.) I figure I might as well live off my parents now while I still can before I’m unleashed out into what is commonly referred to as the “real world” a year from now.

And I must admit, I am already happily settling into this summer at home. I’ve been cooking and baking enough to make up for (and then some) my lack of what we’ll call “culinary creativity” during my final few weeks at school, when an omelet filled with random vegetables and cheese made up my dinner just about every other night.

A lot of the things I had written down as things I would like to make this summer are from a Lebanese cookbook I got awhile back. This is, of course, affirming that I am still on that Middle Eastern cuisine kick, or at least a more specified, narrowed version of it. In fact, when I declared confidently this past weekend to my mom and sister that, “guys, Lebanese food is the best cuisine in the WORLD,” my sister didn’t even look back at me while saying, “oh my god that’s the third time I’ve heard that.”

Anyway, at the top of that list of things to make was hummus—but not just any type of hummus. I wanted hummus that was silky smooth, thick, and incredibly creamy. A hummus that wasn’t overpowered by the taste of garlic, but that was subdued and mild, save for a strong, clear presence of tahini.

This is, of course, the description of the hummus I’ve grown to love from a Lebanese-Greek restaurant in my town. I had always enjoyed making (and eating) hummus the way my mom taught me, but after tasting the hummus from that restaurant, hummus of my dreams!, I realized I had to figure out a way to make it at home.

After consulting and following this awesome post from Ruth Reichl, I produced the hummus shown here—yes, the very hummus of my dreams. It was exactly what I wanted, and I’m going to go ahead and say that judging by the way my mom and sister spooned it up on pita and vegetables, it was what they were wanting too even if they didn’t realize it at the time. I think that what makes this hummus special is that 1.) it requires garbanzo beans cooked from scratch. Not only is the flavor better, but the texture of freshly cooked beans is especially tender. Soaking the beans overnight in baking soda before cooking them ensures this tenderness. 2.) The skins from the cooked garbanzo beans are removed. A bit of a time intensive task, but c’mon? Who doesn’t love mindless, relaxing things like tending after a big bowl of garbanzo beans? And finally, 3.) Lots and lots of tahini. And no olive oil, save for the garnish. I thought this sounded a bit weird, but trust me! Watch your food processor whir away (basically) nothing but a pile of garbanzo beans and tahini into a velvety smooth paste. It’s awesome.

I realize that it would be a little unrealistic of me to believe that I am never going to make hummus another way again. After all, on those sunny summer afternoons when I want some homemade hummus to snack on, it would be most definitely impossible to produce overnight-soaked and freshly cooked and chilled beans out of thin air. That being said, I can assure you that given there is enough time in advance, it is this recipe for hummus that I’m going to turn to in the future. I understand also that everyone has their own preferences for hummus—some like it spicy with garlic, or chunky maybe. But if you want the hummus I described above—amazingly smooth, subdued in flavor with tahini taking center-stage—give this recipe a try.

I served mine in a shallow platter in order to get the largest amount of surface area I could for topping the hummus with good olive oil, toasted pine nuts, and sumac. I love eating it with warmed, toasted wedges of pita bread and some sliced vegetables like red bell peppers and carrots, but I have to tell you my absolutely favorite way of eating it is with big piles of tabbouleh on top. The bright, lemony parsley salad with the richly creamy hummus is an incredible combination.  Now, tabbouleh, that is a recipe I need to conquer but haven’t yet. Anyone have any great recipe recommendations?

Hummus
Adapted from Ruth Reichl
Makes about 4 cups

1 3/4 cups dried garbanzo beans (chickpeas)
1 tablespoon baking soda plus ¼ teaspoon baking soda
Scant 1/2 cup tahini paste
1 lemon, juiced
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, or more to taste

olive oil
pine nuts, toasted (optional)
sumac, paprika, cumin or zahtar (optional)

Rinse the garbanzo beans and discard any small stones or funny looking beans. Put them in a medium-large bowl with enough water to cover the beans by a few inches. Stir in a tablespoon of baking soda and let soak overnight. The baking soda allows for the beans to be extra tender once cooked.

Once soaked, drain and rinse the garbanzo beans and put them in a large pot with enough water to cover the beans by at least two inches. Add the remaining 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda. Bring the water to a boil, then turn down the heat to a low, steady simmer and cover. In the beginning of this process, white foam will gather at the surface of the water—this comes from gases being released by the beans while being cooked. Skim off the foam and continue to cook, covered, over low heat until the chickpeas are very soft. This should take about 1 1/2 hours. Drain, reserving 1/2 cup of the cooking liquid.

Once slightly cooled, rub the garbanzo beans to remove the skins while rinsing them under cold running water. This is something of a time-consuming process, but it’s worth it. Once the skins have been removed, refrigerate the beans until ready to be made in the hummus. The coolness of the beans will translate into a smoother hummus later on.

Once cooled, Put the garbanzo beans, tahini, lemon juice, minced garlic, salt, and the reserved 1/4 cup of the cooking liquid in a food processor fitted with a steel blade. Process for a good 3 or 4 minutes, until it is smooth and creamy. Reichl compares the texture to that of “just-made frozen custard.” Taste for salt and lemon juice. If the texture is too thick to your liking, add a few tablespoons or so of the reserved cooking liquid.

Top with a few good glugs of good olive oil, toasted pine nuts, or some spices like sumac, paprkia, cumin, or zahtar. Serve with toasted pita bread wedges.

I gave this little to-go container of the hummus to my sister so she could take it back up with her to Seattle. She said she’ll share it with her architecture department friends—apparently they love hummus but didn’t know it could be made from scratch. (What?!)

Strawberry Cream Cake

This cake required two pounds of strawberries, eight ounces of cream cheese, a pretty good dose of whipping cream, and cake flour. Believe it or not, I did not just mention that to try and openly display that this cake is not of the most healthy or wholesome sorts. No, I listed out those ingredients—none of which were in my pantry or fridge before the making of this thing—to show that I am somewhat failing at my whole frugal use-up-what-I-have mission.

But! There was a birthday. And not just anyone’s birthday, but the birthday of one of my very best friends, Abbey. I’m kind of big on birthdays, or any sort of holiday really that gives me an excuse to prepare sweets, treats and dishes and to be extra happy for a day. But especially birthdays. I actually have a little spot reserved in one of my notebooks titled “Treats for Occasions & Birthdays,” where I have written out the favorite treats of family members and close friends so I can remember to surprise them with it on their birthday. Sometimes it doesn’t always work out.

For example, did I make my brother creme brulee a few months ago on his birthday, December 28th? No, of course not, I was still reveling in Christmas and preparing for New Year’s! (Sorry, Jimmy.) Will I make the two treats I have planned for my mom and twin sister, both of whose birthdays are right next  to each other next week? Probably not, seeing as I will be stuck in the trenches of finals here in Oregon—not to mention that little fact that it is my birthday too (in case you didn’t catch the “twin sister” part!) in which case I get terribly ego-centric and attention-grabbing. But I still like to plan for them at least, and sometimes my birthday-treat plans actually do work out. Case and point: next to Abbey’s name I had written, Strawberry Cream Cake. So strawberry cream cake there will be, I thought, even if it interrupted my attempts at avoiding the grocery store.

I really ended up liking this cake, and I hope Abbey did too. It’s kind of like strawberry shortcake, only fancied up a little bit in order to be event-worthy. But with the whipped cream piled like clouds on top of the layers of cake and strawberry filling while the sides are left untouched, it still has something of a casual edge to it so that the cake doesn’t seem intimidating or too fancy. A couple of years ago I made this for the Fourth of July, which I think is a perfect event for it.

In terms of how it tastes, it really is like strawberry shortcake…but better. Rather than shortcakes, it’s a chiffon-style vanilla cake that is light and tender, but sturdy enough to handle the aforementioned clouds of cream and strawberries in a cake form. And I have to say this–when these cakes were baking in the oven it seriously sent me into a whirlwind of nostalgia into my childhood when I would smell those vanilla funfetti birthday cakes. That may be a turn off to some people, but oh gosh it smelled heavenly. Anyway, the strawberry component of this part is really parallel to its shortcake counterpart, save the fact that some are left un-macerated for pretty presentation, and the fact that the macerated berry juices are reduced down with Kirsch liqueur to further the strawberry-ness flavor of the filling. I found this part helpful, seeing as the strawberries I was using were not quite peak-of-season quality yet (errmm insert foodie-guilt from not having shelled out the $3 a pint for farmer’s market strawberries). And finally, the whipped cream. Cook’s took whipped cream and fortified it with cream cheese to make the best of both worlds: a strong enough whipped cream so that it can be used on a cake and hold without disintegrating, while still retaining a lightness that can’t be found in traditional cream cheese frosting. It’s awesome and addicting, and I’m not even a “frosting” person.

So yeah, if you couldn’t tell from my heavily praising description above, I think it’s a lovely cake. A lovely cake for a lovely girl. Happy Birthday, Abbey! xx

Strawberry Cream Cake
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated
Serves 8 to 10

I varied a little bit from the assembly of the cake. The cake is suppose to be a three-tiered layer cake, all the layers of which come from the slices of a cake baked in a 9-inch springform pan. I don’t have one of those, so I opted to simply divide it between two 9-inch cake pans, and end up with a two layer cake. I think I like this way better, actually: it allowed me to really pile on the strawberry filling and whipped cream without the fear of running out. That being said, if  you have a 9-inch springform pan, by all means whip this up into a three layer cake–it really is beautiful that way too. Also, Cook’s Illustrated notes that the cake part of this can be made ahead of time, wrapped tightly in plastic, and frozen. Simply thaw at room temperature, unwrapped, for about two hours before continuing with the recipe.

Cake
1 1/4 cups (ounces) cake flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 cup (7 ounces) sugar
5 large eggs (2 whole and 3 separated), room temperature
6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted a slightly cooled
2 tablespoons water
2 teaspoons vanilla extract

Strawberry Filling
2 pounds (about 2 quarts) fresh strawberries, washed, dried, and stemmed
4-6 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons Kirsch (optional–don’t use if you have peak-of-season beautiful strawberries)
pinch of kosher salt

Whipped Cream
8 ounces cream cheese, slightly softened (soft enough to beat and make fluffy)
1/2 cup (3 1/2 ounces) sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
pinch of kosher salt
2 cups heavy whipping cream

For the cake, preheat the oven to 325 degrees and adjust the oven rack to the lower-middle position. Butter and flour 2 round 9-inch cake pans (or one 9-inch springform pan, see note above), and line with parchment or wax paper. Whisk flour, baking powder, salt, and about 1 cup + 1 tablespoon of the sugar in a medium-large bowl. Whisk in 2 whole eggs and three yolks (reserve the whites!), the melted butter, water, and vanilla. Whisk until the batter is smooth and thick.

In a clean bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the whisk attachment, beat the reserved three egg whites at medium-low speed so that they get frothy and broken up a bit, about 1 or 2 minutes. Increase speed to medium-high and gradually add the remaining three tablespoons of sugar. Continue to beat until soft peaks form, about 2 minutes more. Take one-third of the beaten egg whites and fold it into the batter, to lighten it. Add the remaining beaten whites and gently fold until there aren’t any more white streaks and it’s pretty much evenly mixed. Pour the batter between the two prepared cake pans, dividing it evenly, and bake until a toothpick inserted in the center of the cake comes out clean, about 30 minutes. Cool in pan for 10 minutes, then invert cake onto a wire rack to cool completely (it’s necessary!), about 1 1/2 to 2 hours.

Meanwhile, prepare the strawberry filling. Halve 24 of the best-looking strawberries in your bunch and reserve. These will be used to border the layers and decorate the top. In a medium bowl, quarter the remaining berries you have and toss with 4 to 6 tablespoons of sugar, depending on the sweetness and ripeness of your berries. You should have a mixture of a little more than 1 1/2 to 2 cups worth. Let this mixture sit for one hour, stirring occasionally.

Strain the juice from the  macerated berries (should be about 1/2 cup) and heat over medium high heat in a small saucepan with the addition of the Kirsch, if using, until syrupy and reduced to about 3 tablespoons, about 3 to 5 minutes. Meanwhile, put the macerated berries in a food processor and whir them for about 5 one second pulses. Alternatively, like I did, you could simply chop them up best you can with your knife–you’re just looking for a mushy strawberry filling mixture. Pour the reduced syrup over the chopped berries, add a pinch of salt, and toss to combine. Set aside.

When the cake has cooled, place the softened cream cheese, sugar, vanilla and the pinch of salt in a bowl of a standing mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. Whisk at medium-high speed until fluffy and somewhat light, 1 to 2 minutes. Make sure to scrape down the bowl with a rubber spatula a few times throughout this process. Reduce speed to low and add heavy cream in a slow, steady stream. When it’s almost all the way combined, increase the speed to medium-high and beat until the mixture holds stiff peaks, about 1 to 2 minutes more, scraping the bowl as you go. You should have around 4 to 5 cups–a lot!–and if you’re only making a 2 layer cake like me, you will probably have extra. I’m sure you can find a use for that.

To assemble the cake, Place one layer of the cake on a cake plate and arrange a ring of the reserved strawberry halves, cut side down and stems facing out, around the border of the cake. Pour about 1 cup of the berry mixture in the center (once again, if only doing two layers like me you’ll probably have extra–I’m not saying anything but it is delicious with leftover whipped cream). Spread mixture to cover any exposed cake, but be careful not to extend the mixture out too far so that it will spill over when you add the cream and other cake layer. Next, gently spread about 1 1/2 to 2 cups (or more to your liking) of the whipped cream over berry layer. This is a little difficult, because you want to be sure not to create an incorporated mush of the two parts. Leave a 1/2-inch border from the perimeter of the cake. Place next cake layer down and press gently (!)–so that the whipped cream layer should become “flush” with the cake edge. Add another 1 1/2 to 2 cups of whipped cream and spread to make an even layer on top. (Note: if you’re making the three layered cake, here is when you want to repeat the process of the first cake layer before moving on.) Decorate with remaining cut strawberries. Serve, or chill. This cake is best served the day of, but it’s doing fine holding up in our fridge at the moment, too.

Caramelized Cauliflower Pasta with Parmesan, Pine Nuts, and Lemon

I’m currently knee-deep in the last stretch of the school year, trying to make it through these next two weeks without losing myself too much for the sake of an essay or presentation. After I get done with my last final, I’ll be heading back to that greatly superior-than-Oregon-state, Washington, to spend the summer in what I still consider “home.” Because of this, I’ve been trying (somewhat in vain) to stop dropping by the grocery store on my daily walk back from my classes to my house and actually trying to use up the reserves of food I have in my fridge and cupboards.

Although the process has been a little bit difficult in terms of having to force myself to stop planning out new recipes that require new masses of ingredients, I’m actually really enjoying it. I’m one of those people (are we a people? I don’t know) who gets immensely pleased when those last 4 strips of bacon that have been sitting in the freezer for probably too long finally get used up, or when the last bits of the dijon mustard get scraped out of the jar to make a vinaigrette. Maybe it’s something of a cathartic thing, using up everything to replace everything with something fresh. I suppose if nothing else, it’s at least a glorified attempt at frugality.

Anyway, this pasta is a pretty little product of this, when I had cauliflower and a hunk of parmesan in the fridge, and a little bag of pine nuts to use up. I didn’t think I would post on this dish, but kind of like this one (which I just made again for dinner tonight!), I was surprised by how much I ended up liking it and wanting to immediately make it again. Even though making it again would require that I go to the store and thus defeat the whole purpose of why I made this pasta in the first place.

Anyway, Bon Appetit, where this recipe comes from, says this is something like a Sicilian version of cauliflower pasta. After blooming the spices in oil for about half a minute, you add the cauliflower, some diced onion and garlic and let that stew in the skillet until the cauliflower becomes nutty and caramelized, completely tender and browned. After it’s tossed with the cooked pasta, you give it a squeeze of lemon and a dusting of toasted pine nuts and parmesan. It’s entirely simple but somehow the flavors completed each other so that it felt that absolutely nothing was missing. That is, of course, everything but a fried egg on top.

Caramelized Cauliflower Pasta with Parmesan, Pine Nuts, and Lemon
Adapted from Bon Appetit, April 2012
Serves 4 or 5

extra virgin olive oil
1 1/2 teaspoons ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon crushed red pepper flakes, or more for taste
1 small onion, diced
4 garlic cloves, minced
1 large head of cauliflower, leaves removed and cored, cut into 1/4-inch slices and pieces
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
8 ounces pasta (I used linguine)
2 ounces parmesan cheese, grated, plus more for taste
1 teaspoon lemon zest
juice from half a lemon
2-4 tablespoons pine nuts, toasted, plus more for taste
fried (or poached) eggs, if desired, to top

Heat about 4 tablespoons of olive oil in a large heavy skillet over medium low heat. Stir in coriander and red pepper flakes to bloom the flavors, and cook until fragrant, about 30 seconds. (Watch out here, the spiciness of the herbs kind of make the air spicy around the kitchen due to heat, if you know what I’m talking about.) Add diced onion, garlic, and cauliflower pieces and about 3/4 teaspoon of kosher salt. Cook, stirring often, until the cauliflower is tender, sweet and well-browned in places, about 15 minutes.

Meanwhile, cook the pasta. Heat a large pot of generously salted water until rapidly boiling. Add pasta and, stirring every once in awhile, cook until al dente. Drain and reserve about 1/4 – 1/2 cup of the pasta water to add later to help bind it all together.

Over medium-high heat, add the cooked pasta to the skillet with the cauliflower and toss to combine, adding in reserved pasta water as needed. Cook for about a minute. Off heat, add the lemon juice and zest, and toss to combine. Serve, topping with a drizzle of olive oil, a dusting of freshly grated parmesan, more pine nuts, and a fried (or poached) egg.

Rhubarb-Grapefruit Marmalade

I must admit, I honestly and truly don’t even know what rhubarb really tastes like. Yes, I’ve had my fair share of strawberry-rhubarb crumbles, or the rhubarb-raspberry flavor cousin in the form of a jamy crostata or a big crumb coffee cake. I know its a little bitter and even a bit sour, from the bites I get of it of said rhubarb-raspberry-or-strawberry treats. I always like whatever it’s in, including this jam here. But in terms of what its flavor actually is, I’ve no idea.

While we’re at it, I might as well tell you that I’m not really even sure what one is suppose to call this… spread. Luisa, where I got the recipe from, calls it preserves, I’ve been calling it a jam because frankly any type of fruit boiled down with a shocking amount of sugar is a jam to me, and Wikipedia is telling me it’s technically a marmalade. I am not choosing to go with Wikipedia because I trust it more than Luisa Weiss or Alice Waters (quite the opposite, probably), but I think I finally decided to call it a marmalade because the tart grapefruit peel, minced up and speckled throughout, just makes it feel more marmalade-y to me than anything else.

So I guess what I’m figuring out here is that, for some reason, I intuitively know what marmalade is suppose to taste like, but if you asked me what the flavor of rhubarb is, I would stare at you with a blank, clueless face? Woo boy I am just killing it today with the eloquence!

Anyway, I didn’t know what to expect when I was making this. The ingredients are rhubarb, an ingredient of which my situation is embarrassingly noted above, and grapefruit, a citrus that I only really take to about half the time I eat it. And together? It just sounded, I don’t know, a little weird. I’m not sure what happened, but somewhere between dumping all that sugar to soak with the grapefruit juice and rhubarb and having it bubble and hiss down to a thick consistency, a delicious jam, or ermm, marmalade was born. Somehow, the flavors just work. It’s not overly tart and not at all bitter like a lot of orange marmalades I’ve tried, but it doesn’t have that cloying sweetness of something like strawberry jam. It’s a little hard to describe, so you might just have to trust me (if you can, after reading this post!)–it’s interesting, and awesome.

I made some of this bread to go with it (and is what you see featured in the above picture when I was trying it out with the marmalade), hoping for an awesome double-packed post, but something about that bread fell flat with me. This is most likely my fault, because I was in the mood for something pillowy and yeasty to top my marmalade with, and a quick soda bread that baked up to be dense and hard was probably not the right choice for that. Especially when paired with the marmalade, the dominant nutty and flax-flavored flavor of the bread just clashed with the sweet marmalade. The marmalade was, however, pretty awesome the following day when I topped my pancakes with a dollop of it. It also sounds perfect with some warm cream biscuits, or even just a single scoop as is from the jar.

Rhubarb-Grapefruit Marmalade
Slightly adapted from Alice Waters and The Wednesday Chef
Makes about four cups

I halved the recipe and as a result didn’t process it, seeing as I am pretty sure that jar you see above is going to be empty within the next week or two. 

2 pounds rhubarb, rinsed
2 grapefruit, rinsed and scrubbed
3 1/2 cups sugar

Cut the rhubarb into about 1/2-inch slices. Peel the zest of one of the grapefruits using a vegetable peeler or a paring knife, and mince into very fine pieces. Place the rhubarb slices, the minced zest and the sugar in a large sturdy pot and juice both of the grapefruits into the pot. Let this mixture stand for at least half an house, but preferably for a couple hours or even overnight, in order for the sugar to dissolve and the rhubarb to release its juice (this is where the flavor magic happens, I think, so don’t skip it).

Place a small plate in the freezer. This will be used to more accurately test the “doneness” of the jam by its consistency. Bring the pot of fruit to a boil over high heat, stirring every once in awhile to make sure nothing sticks to the bottom. Once it starts boiling it will bubble up high on the sides of the pot, so beware. While the fruit mixture is bubbling, skim off any light-tinted foam that gathers around the edges of the pot. After about maybe ten minutes, more or less, the jam will subside and start bubbling thickly. At this point (you’ll know when it happens), stir frequently and start testing for the consistency by taking small spoonfuls of the jam and putting it on the cold plate. It quickly cools the sample, so you get a better sense at what the finished consistency will be. This test is helpful– your jam will look a lot less loose and liquidy than how it will be when it sets up.

When the jam has cooked down to the consistency of your liking (for me it was a couple minutes after the “subside and bubble thickly” part occurred), turn off the heat and carefully pour the jam into sterilized jars and process according to the manufacturer’s instructions.

Asian Chop Chop Salad with a Sesame Ginger-Honey Vinaigrette

As my year as a junior in college is coming to an end in only three and a half short weeks that will seem painfully long, I’ve started to realize that of this whole school year, I have eaten a pathetically small amount of salads–and I mean salads as in ones that actually have some form of lettuce. (I realize, also, that my reflections of the year might be better spent on things such as what I’ve learned, or you know, the controversies of German Lebensraum as a foreign policy since a hefty paper on it is due in about a week. But I guess I’d rather gravitate my thoughts towards food and my eating habits. So it goes.)

Anyway, this is somewhat depressing to me, because I honestly love salads. Really! I grew up with a mom who, once we got into our high school years, stopped caring so much about making large, heavy dinners on a regular basis and who would often just throw together a big salad and call it good. And oh, it was good. Me and my siblings ate salads with no complaints.

This type of eating has stuck with me so much so that most days, especially in the summer, I will be perfectly content eating a large salad as one of my meals each day. What I’m trying to get at with this is that I am in no way salad-averse, and as such I don’t really have any excuse for being able to count up the total amount of them I’ve eaten this year on both hands.

I think it has something to with the fact that as much as I try to resist it, my pantry and fridge have college-esque appearances. As in, when I go to make a salad (assuming I actually have some form of lettuce), the only thing I have to top it with are some almonds, or maybe some sliced raw carrots and bell peppers. When you eat a few too many salads like this, the lettuce starts to taste squidgy, the vinaigrette tastes off, the toppings… well, ha, there aren’t really any!  So I have sadly avoided salads a lot more than I would have liked this year.

Luckily, I garnered up some form of energy to try out this salad (I have no idea where from–maybe it’s the fact that, oh you know, summer and beaches and swim suits are approaching fiercely), because this salad is just what I needed to realize what I’ve been missing. It reminded me of the reason why I love salads: the way they can showcase contrasting textures and flavors, and how you can eat enough so you feel full but never heavy.

And this salad has got all of that. It’s crunchy from the wasabi peas, roasted soy nuts and wonton strips, juicyness from the grilled chicken, and savory and sweet from the sesame honey-ginger vinaigrette. If you’re going to leave out anything here, don’t make it the chicken. It gives contrast to all the crispy ingredients. If you’re vegetarian or not interested in using chicken for this, try out some grilled tofu instead to give that soft-chew component. (As a side note, if you’re planning to leave out anything, I’d make it the wonton strips. They’re fun and give nice texture, but they’re not much in terms of taste and the salad’s already got other crunch items.) It’s a well built salad, and the dressing is absolutely addicting. It’s a balsamic based, which perplexed me at first, but don’t ask questions! It’s got all the balance of flavors, trust me. Make it, eat it, and realize what you’ve been missing.

Asian Chop Chop Salad with Sesame Honey-Ginger Vinaigrette
Adapted slightly from The Sublet Kitchen
Serves 4 as a side or 2 as a main

I’m going to be honest here, for the lettuce I just used this pre-mixed lettuce mix that is called something like “baby spring mix.” It combines baby arugula, baby swiss chard and baby spinach, all three of which I really liked in the salad. Don’t feel guilty going the lazy way to and getting a lettuce mix, but make sure to still add sliced napa cabbage to whatever you buy.

5 wonton wrappers
kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
2 chicken breasts
2 cups baby arugula
2 cups baby swiss chard
1 cup napa cabbage, thinly sliced
2 cups shelled edamame,
1/2 cup roasted and salted soy nuts
1/2 cup wasabi peas

ginger sesame-honey vinaigrette to dress (see recipe below)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Slice the wonton wrappers into about 1/4-inch wide strips. Coat a large baking sheet with cooking spray and arrange the wonton strips on the sheet so they’re all in an even layer. Spray again with cooking spray to coat the wonton strips and season with salt and black pepper. Bake in the preheated oven for about 3 or 4 minutes until golden, puffed up, and crispy. Be careful here! They will go from under-cooked to burnt in seconds, so keep an eye out for them after they’ve been baking for three minutes. Set aside.

Pat the chicken dry and season with a generous amount of kosher salt and black pepper. Using a barbecue or a grill pan, cook the chicken over medium heat until cooked through and no longer pink inside, about 6 to 7 minutes on each side. Remove from heat and set aside. Once cooled, slice the chicken on a bias and against the grain to make pieces of chicken about 3/4 of an inch thick.

In a large bowl, combine all of the lettuces, the chopped cooked chicken, the shelled edamame, soy nuts, wasabi peas, and toss to combine. Add the crisped wonton strips to top. Pour dressing over top, and enjoy!

Sesame Honey-Ginger Vinaigrette:
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
2 tablespoons low sodium soy sauce
2 cloves garlic, chopped
2 1/2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons ginger, peeled and grated or minced
2 teaspoon toasted sesame oil

Combine ingredients in a blender and blend until smooth.

Peach Apricot Crumble Bars

Before we get started here, I know what you’re thinking: “Peach already? Really, Amy? We’ve barely touched down on spring.” And yes! I realize we are a long ways away from peach season, as sad as it is for me to say that seeing as they are probably-maybe my favorite fruit (okay okay, at least my favorite of the stone fruits).

But you see, the genius of these bars is that they don’t require fresh peaches—they don’t even encourage it, actually. So put your foodie judgments away everyone, because all you need to make these bars is a jar of jam and a bag of some good frozen peach slices.

I ran across this recipe when I was at home over spring break while admiring The America’s Test Kitchen’s Menu Cookbook that I had checked out from the library. In case you didn’t know, America’s Test Kitchen are the people who run Cook’s Illustrated, among other publications like Cook’s Country. I’m not sure of your feelings about America’s Test Kitchen (tell me!), but I know I go through phases with them. Sometimes I’m really into the traditional and more intuitive type of cooking that relies less on scientifically-precise and descriptive recipes and more on the common-sense kitchen things your mom/grandma/friends have showed you along the way in the kitchen. Obviously this isn’t very in line with the Cook’s approach to cooking.

But at other times, how could I not fall for the precision in their recipes, the way they explain every reason to the success of their methods, or just the fact that their dishes almost always turn out as they promised they would? Bundle up a few handfuls of those recipes into menus (and organize them by seasons, to boot) and place some stunning and glossy pictures on the side and you have me sold my friends, sold. So if you can’t tell already, I’m a bit of a fan of America’s Test Kitchen right now.

How could I not be? I mean, just look at these bars! I wish you could try them out, I really could. Because these are really good. Like seriously, not-a-single-thing-wrong-about-them, really, really good. In fact, they are probably the perfect version of my ideal fruit bar. There, I said it! Perfect. A buttery, nutty and not-too-thin shortbread crust, a tart (if you use apricot jam, like me) and tangy fruit layer that tastes exactly as the sun and summer should, and a crunchy crumb topping with almond slices. Even my boyfriend who is hesitant towards sweets in general (I know, how can we be dating?) ate four bars right off the bat without a second thought.

And as mentioned above, the recipe says frozen peaches work best here—they found that frozen rather than fresh provide the best and most reliable consistency. That being said, the peaches I used were peaches my mom froze back during the end of last summer (being the smart woman she is), but a bag of good quality ones from the store will do just fine. So really, there’s no excuse not to go make these. Although I do think making and eating these in the dead of winter might be a little perverse, making them now in the early days of spring? It’s just enough to hold you over until you can get your hands on perfectly ripe and juicy peaches to eat by themselves in a few months. But truth be told, I might still be making these bars even then. Yep, they’re that good.

Easy Peach Apricot Crumble Bars
From The America’s Test Kitchen’s Menu Cookbook 
Makes around 20-24 square bars

The original recipe called for peach jam, which you could certainly use. I however enjoyed the tangy and tart flavor the apricot jam (and I also enjoyed the convenience factor that I already had apricot jam and that peach jam is a bit more difficult to find). Also, the almonds I used are these toasted, dry sliced ones from Trader Joe’s–they’re unusually and wonderfully crunchy. Any sliced almonds will do, but just thought I’d throw that out there.

1 1/2 cups (7 1/2 ounces) all-purpose flour
1 3/4 cups (6 1/2 ounces) sliced almonds
1/3 cup (2 1/3 ounces) granulated sugar
1/3 cup packed (2 1/3 ounces) packed light brown sugar, plus one tablespoon
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
12 tablespoons unsalted butter, cut into 12 pieces and softened (I zapped mine in the microwave on defrost setting for about 20-30 seconds)
1 1/2 pounds frozen sliced and peeled peaches, thawed on paper towels to soak up any excess liquid
1/2 cup apricot jam (see note; peach can be used)
1/2 teaspoon lemon zest plus 1 teaspoon lemon juice

Preheat oven to 375 degrees and adjust oven rack to be in the middle position. Line a 13 x 9 baking dish with aluminum foil (or parchment paper) to make a “sling.” Butter the foil and any part of the baking dish the foil doesn’t cover. Set aside.

Process flour, 1 1/4 cups of the almonds, the granulated sugar, 1/3 cup of the brown sugar and salt in a food processor until combined, about 5 seconds. Add softened butter pieces and pulse until the mixture looks like coarse meal with a few pea-sized pieces of butter, about 20 1-second pulses.

Measure out 1/2 cup of the processed mixture and reserve for the crumble topping. Pour the rest of it into the prepared pan and, using a measuring cup or the back of a large shallow spoon, press into an even layer (note– you’ll need the food processor again so don’t clean it just yet). Bake crust in the preheated oven until fragrant and golden brown (especially around the edges), around 15 minutes.

Add the remaining 1 tablespoon of brown sugar to the reserved crumble topping mixture and stir to combine. Then pinch the mixture between your fingers and break into clumps the size of hazelnuts to form a streusel-like topping. Set aside.

Combine the thawed peaches and jam in the food processor and process until the peaches are broken up into chunks. It’s okay if the mixture just looks a little bit mushy–you’re just trying to break it down a little here. Transfer peach mixture to a large nonstick skillet and cook over high heat until thickened and with a more jam-like consistency, about 7-9 minutes. Off the heat, stir in the lemon zest, lemon juice, and a pinch of salt. Spread the cooked peach mixture over the hot crust into an even layer. Sprinkle over the reserved streusel topping and then the remaining 1/2 cup slivered almonds over the top of the jam layer. Bake in preheated oven until almonds are golden, about 20 minutes.

Let bars cool completely in pan, about two hours (I know this is very difficult because by this point the bars will smell amazing. But please wait, at least a little bit. I set mine on the concrete floor of the garage to speed up the process.) Carefully remove bars from pan using sling, cut into squares with a sharp knife, and serve. These squares are best eaten within 24 hours (trust me, not hard to do), but you can store them in the fridge for a few days too if you need to.

Chinese Chicken Lettuce Wraps

There’s not really any story or moral or silly musings attached to the recipe I want to share with you today. I’m still not quite sure of whether that’s a good thing or not. Usually my attachment and preference for things (food, music, places) is always dependent on the emotional associations I have with them. But we can’t always have that luxury for everything now, can we?

So I present to you this story-less, but no less delicious, recipe. I made it last week when I was home during my school’s spring vacations after seeing it in Cook’s Illustrated’s new May issue. It really isn’t too complicated at all, requiring three basic simple steps: first, you process chicken chunks to tinier bite-sized pieces and let them sit for a bit in a cornstarch slurry of a sauce (which is supposedly to help tenderize the small chicken pieces throughout the cooking process). A note about the chicken– the recipe calls for dark meat for flavor, but I used a mix of both and think I would actually prefer all white meat next time I make it. Next, make and set aside a sauce that is added at the very end to the stir fried vegetables and chicken to flavor the whole thing. And finally! Stir fry the vegetables, then the chicken, add sauce, and scoop into pieces of butter lettuce to eat.

I had never made something like this before, so I’m aware that it’s probable that a lot of the allure of this dish came from what we’ll call the “cute factor.” I mean… it’s Asian-flavored chicken and vegetables in crispy, cute lettuce wraps. It’s fun. But I do think the wraps in themselves were delicious and a refreshing change from the usual stir-fried protein and veggies over rice package. It’s something to think about at least, if you’re wanting to change up the usual way in which you eat your food. This could also be fun for sharing at a gathering, granted that you use the smaller pieces of lettuce to give a more “small bites” impression.

(As a side note, this post feels very off to me for some reason. Do you recognize this or am I just imagining things? I can’t tell what it is. It does, I have to tell you, remind me of this really weird episode of Rachel Ray’s 30-Minute Meals I saw once. Instead of her usual, overly-peppy, talkative, “yum-o” and “delish” self, she was awkwardly quiet throughout the entirety of her thirty-minute made meal. I suppose she just had an off day, but oh believe me it was weird to watch. I just remember sitting there in almost an awe while watching her, thinking, “Well jeez, I bet she got in a fight with her boyfriend or something that day.” I am in no way trying to compare myself to Rachel Ray–please no!–but I just had to include this thought, for some bizarre and unknown reason. Anyway… to the recipe!)

Chinese Chicken Lettuce Wraps
Adapted from Cook’s Illustrated, May 2012

Chicken:
1 pound boneless, skinless chicken breast or thighs, cut into rough 1-inch pieces
2 teaspoons Chinese rice cooking wine or dry sherry
2 teaspoons soy sauce
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
2 teaspoons cornstarch

Sauce:
3 tablespoons oyster sauce
1 tablespoon Chinese rice cooking wine or dry sherry
2 teaspoons soy sauce
2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil
1/2 teaspoon sugar
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes, or more, for taste

Stir-Fry:
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 celery ribs, diced
6 ounces shiitake mushrooms, stemmed and sliced thin
1/2 cup water chestnuts, diced
2 scallions, white parts minced, green parts sliced thin
2 garlic cloves, minced

1 head bibb or butter lettuce (8 ounces), washed and dried, leaves separated and left whole
hoisin sauce, for serving (optional)

First, prep the chicken. Place chicken pieces on a large plate or two in a single layer. Freeze meat until firm and staring to harden around the edges, about 20 minutes or so. Meanwhile, whisk the rice wine, soy sauce, oil and cornstarch together  in a medium sized bowl. Set aside. Once the chicken has been chilled, transfer about half of it into a  food processor. Pulse until coarsely chopped into 1/4-inch sized pieces, about 7 or 8. Transfer the meat to the bowl with the rice wine-cornstarch mixture and repeat with the remaining chicken chunks. Toss the chicken to coat with the rice wine-cornstarch slurry and place in the refrigerator to chill for about 15 minutes.

To make the sauce that will be later used to coat the stir-fried chicken and vegetables, whisk all the ingredients, including the oyster sauce, rice wine, soy sauce, sesame oil, sugar and red pepper flakes. Set aside.

For the stir-fry, it is important that you already have all of the vegetables already prepped and chopped and the chicken chilled. Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over high heat until very hot, or smoking. Add the chicken and cook, stirring constantly, until opaque and cooked through, 4 to 5 minutes. Remove from pan and set aside. Next, cook the vegetables. In the now-empty skillet, heat the remaining 1 tablespoon oil until very hot and smoking. Add the chopped celery and mushrooms and cook, stirring constantly, until the mushrooms have reduced to about half their size and the celery is tender but still crisp, about 3 or 4 minutes. Add the water chestnuts, minced white part of the scallions and garlic and cook, stirring constantly, for about 1 minute. Return chicken to skillet. Whisk set aside sauce to recombine and add to the skillet, tossing the chicken and vegetables in the sauce.

Spoon chicken stir-fry into lettuce leaves and sprinkle with scallion greens. Serve with hoisin sauce if you’d like.

Soft, Thick & Chewy Granola Bars

I kind of have these ideas in my head of the type of kitchen-life I will lead when I grow up. The specifics change all the time, but the basic structure of it goes something like this:

(You are warned now that this is highly imaginary and most likely unrealistic. This is how I work.)

Each day of the week is designated as a specific day for prepping or accomplishing some major food thing. For example, we could say Monday is designated as “stock day,” and it’s when I use up all the extra vegetables, meat and bones (because obviously I’m going to be cooking up roast chicken at least once a week, right?), and churn out the highest quality stock to be used for soups and sauces throughout the week.  Tuesday could be the day where I make creme anglais and maybe some fruit coulis, if some fresh fruit is available, to be used to top ice cream or any cakes. Wednesday could be for making some sandwich bread, or maybe batches of flatbread dough to be cooked up when the occasion demands. Each day of the week would have some culinary purpose. You get the idea? This all sounds incredibly fun if it were possible to play out in real life, but of course as is always the case in this sad life, you and I both know it’ll never actually happen. Nonetheless, still fun to imagine.

Anyway, in these idealistic visions in my head, one of the days of the week is always specified for breakfast-y things. I would make big batches of granola, bake up some healthy fruit and nut muffins, maybe even make some sausage egg breakfast burritos to keep in the fridge throughout the week. (Let’s ignore the fact that I have yet to even make this so-called breakfast burrito in my life. It’ll happen.) As of now, add these granola bars to that list. They’d be individually wrapped up in wax paper, just waiting to be snagged in the morning to eat as a quick breakfast or snack throughout the day. It would be perfect. Or should I say it will be perfect?

Of course, this is how the actual process of making these bars went: The morning after arriving home for my spring break, I mixed up all the ingredients, enough for a double batch, while my mom cleaned up the disaster-mess I was making as I went. Said double batch of granola bars exceeded the 8 x 11 glass dish I was putting them into and I had to divvy it up in another pan. Said double batch of granola bars was of course annihilated by my six-person family that seems to always compete for treats around the house when they are around. The  leftover granola bars that weren’t eaten in the first two hours of their existence (of said double batch) were packed up to send off to my spring-break-ending brother and sister in Seattle. There were none left for individual wax paper wrappings. None are sitting in the cupboards waiting for an early morning to-go breakfast.

So whatever to my so-called perfect plans for my future in the kitchen. I kind of have an inkling of a feeling that how the process of these granola bars went this time is probably how it will always go. But you know, I think I’m okay with that. Because after all, the whole objective of all this baking-prepping-cooking is met—and that’s to make nice things that make people happy. A little vague and wishy-washy maybe, but at least that part is true and real.

A note about these granola bars, though: I’m going to be straight-forward with you and tell you that these were pretty awesome. I do realize that most people say that when they present you with a recipe, so I’m going to be a little more specific: if you want granola bars that taste like healthy, (far) less sugary and fatty versions of soft and chewy oatmeal cookies, these are it. They have a chew to them, and the pockets of nuts and dried fruit keep you always biting for more. These are not, however, crunchy or crispy, so if that’s what makes you happy when it comes to breakfast bars, these probably aren’t for you.

Soft, Thick & Chewy Granola Bars
Adapted from Smitten Kitchen, who got it from King Arthur Flour

A few things — As mentioned above, I doubled the batch. However, due to the quirkiness of fitting it into baking sheets, as well as the honestly crazy amount of granola bars it made, I’m posting the single-batch version below. Also, the recipe calls for quick rolled oats, and I ended up just using the regular rolled oats. It was fine, but I think using the quick-version of the oats will lend to more cohesive bars with less tendency to crumble or break apart.

In terms of what to compose your granola bars of, this is really flexible. I’m posting below the combination of nuts and fruits that I used, but feel free to substitute any of them–the key is to try to get within 2-3 cups, or 10-15 ounces worth of goodies to add in. Other ideas than the combination below: dried cranberries, blueberries, apricots, almonds, seeds, chocolate chips, rice cereal, et cetera.

1 2/3 cups quick rolled oats
1/3 cup oat flour (or 1/3 cup oats, processed till finely ground in a food processor or blender)
1/4 cup granulated sugar (if using less dried fruit, add up to 1/4 cup more)
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
2 to 3 cups dried fruits and nuts (total of 10 to 15 ounces), I used:
3/4 cup (3.2ish ounces) dried cherries
1/3 cup (1.5 ounces) golden raisins
1/3 cup (1.5 ounces) pecans
1/2 cup (1.75 ounces) walnuts
1/2 cup (1.5 ounces) unsweetened, shredded coconut
1/4 cup wheat germ
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
6 tablespoons melted butter
1/4 cup honey
2 tablespoons light corn syrup
1 egg
1 tablespoon water

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Line an 8 x 8 pan in one direction with parchment paper, allowing it to go up the opposing sides in order to create a “sling” that will make it easy to get the bars out. Lightly butter the parchment paper and the exposed pan.

If your combination of fruits and nuts is pretty chunky, like mine were, pulse in a food processor a couple of times to break them down a little bit, or roughly chop to get the same effect. Combine the dry ingredients all together, including the oats, oat flour, sugar, salt, cinnamon, and dried fruits and nuts. Set aside.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the vanilla, melted butter or oil, and liquid sweeteners until smooth. Toss with the dry until the mixture is evenly crumbly and coated. In the now empty bowl of what held the wet ingredients, whisk together the egg and water until even, and add to the oat-sweetner mixture to coat. I found this part necessary to encourage the mixture being moist enough and to make it more glued together. Spread mixture in the prepared pan, pressing in firmly.

Bake the bars for 30 to 40 minutes, until they’re brown around the edges and a little golden on top.
Cool the bars in their pan completely on a cooling rack. Once cool, lift up the “sling” to take the bars out of the pan, and using a serrated knife, cut the bars into squares. Store bars, at room temperature, or in the fridge if it’s humid.